#i’m not sure i deserve that label

[parttimecosmichorror]

I do not understand the people who say that modern or abstract art takes no skill, who just look at the final result and say “even I could do that”. Sure, yeah, you could replicate all these same brushstrokes. You could splash some red paint on a canvas and smear it around. You can do that. But that’s not really the core of the piece though, is it? I deeply admire the skill of having an idea, and then simplifying it and reducing it to its barest parts, and then abstracting those into something visual and expressive. You can smudge some colors around and retroactively assign a meaning to it. But can you take a concept and condense it into shapes and colors? I wish I could. I really wish I could. I wish I had the skill and mental capacity to be truly creative in my art, to make something resonant and unique and abstract. Not enough people realize how difficult it is to have and deal with ideas

[explode-this]

.

[beastonallfours]

i remember when girlinred said lesbian was her “least favourite word in the entire world” but i can’t relate to that at all. lesbian can be a placeholder for words like “beautiful” and “tender” and “powerful” in my brain <3

[januaryembrs]

YOU'RE TOO SWEET FOR ME | Spencer Reid x Sunshine!Reader

Request: @avis-writeshq says -

HELLO HELLO jumping on your 2k celebration reqs because 2K OMG SO DESERVED ‼️🫶

may i perhaps request a spencer reid x fem!reader fic please 🥹 maybe him post prison w new reader and she follows him around everywhere because she’s just instantly enamoured to him 🤭

thank you so so much lovely and congrats again !!!

Description: thirteen years in the fbi and ten weeks in prison does a number on Spencer, only when he arrives back in the office he meets the sunshine rookie that seems rather taken with him.

word length: 2.6k (this really ran away from me)

warnings: post-prison Reid, slightest age gap, Spencer dealing with coming home from prison, gun shooting?

authors note: hozier’s new song 'Too Sweet' + post-prison reid is a need, not a want.

He smelled her french vanilla perfume before he even knew she was there. But then again, it was all he could smell the minute she waltzed into the office with a tray of coffee, like someone had stuck a sweet dessert in the oven and baked it on full. 

“Good morning!” She chirped, winding an arm over his shoulder and setting down a take out cup and a little chocolate donut on his desk, “Pen said you like chocolate, and I mean who doesn’t like chocolate, right?” 

She was potent when she was so close to him, and in one single breath he caught a whiff of her shampoo, before she had flitted over to her side of the desk that sat opposite his, where Morgan once sat. Noticing his hesitance, mistaking it for discontent she paused, almost spilling her own beverage over the potted plant she kept by her keyboard, scrambling to set it on the surface.

“Y-you do like chocolate right? I mean they had strawberry too, I can switch yours with JJ’s, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind-” She splurged, and her face was much too worried considering it was a matter of a donut, particularly considering he was already eying up the way the thick chocolate was melting in the pastry bag.

“Chocolate is great, I love…” He held up the bag to read the label with squinting hazel hues, “Cocoa Caramel delight,”

He had never heard of it.

He had never even seen this brand, but he wanted to quell her nerves even in the slightest. The BAU didn’t have the funds for a new keyboard, let alone time to send her to the ER if she ended up spilling her coffee over her hand. 

She seemed convinced, and he offered her a small smile, not exactly his most enthusiastic, but then again he hadn’t been much of a morning person since he’d come out of prison. He liked quiet, he liked a moment to himself before Penelope called them into the round table for briefing. But she was sweet, too sweet perhaps for the dark nature of their job. 

He could already see it chewing up her perky disposition and spitting her right back out within a year. It happened to the best of them.

But she smiled back at him, a million watt grin that made him think maybe he was being a little cruel. She was still brand new, still trying to make friends and he remembered how hard he tried when it had been his first few weeks on the team. He turned his gaze away from her in shame, reading the way she’d written his name on the cup in a pink sharpie, framing it with two doodle hearts. 

She all but skipped away, sensing he didn’t feel like talking much anymore, and he heard Emily exclaiming she was ‘A caffeine angel sent from the heavens,’ as she handed her the drink. He watched her braided hair disappear down the hall as she bounced over to Penelope’s lair. 

He picked at the cocoa caramel delight with a kind of self loathing he was familiar with, the french vanilla still a saccharine sugar in his nose. 

-

She caught him again; though this time he felt her bristle past his arm, watching the bullets pierce the target paper with an accuracy that only came from fourteen years of practice. 

“Do you reckon you could teach me how to do that?” Her cadence was light and airy, and he had to stop himself from jumping, from slamming the butt of the gun into her nose on reaction, because he knew she meant well, even though she had no idea how damaged he was.

He was still out of sorts from having to look over his shoulder at every second of the day, and he was surprised he was holding it together so far. He supposed shooting the shit out of a target helped.

Because it was just her, looking at him with soft eyes and a smile that could start wars, and he knew she had no idea the effect she had on the walls he’d tried so hard to build in prison. 

She must have mistook his look for annoyance, because she was quick to fumble with her own loaded gun, taking a step back in retreat, worried that she crossed some line she didn’t know he’d drawn.

“Or I could get Luke to show me, I didn’t mean to bother you, I just am really a shit shot and I know that’s pretty useless in the field-” It wasn’t until he flicked the safety on and took a step to follow her did she look at him again hopefully. 

“No, I’d be more than happy to show you,” He cleared his throat, setting his pistol in its holster and stepping behind her as she lined herself up for the fake body meant to resemble an unsub, “We all have to start somewhere. Show me your form,” 

She raised her arms up in front of her, aiming for a few seconds for the spot in the centre of the chest cavity, her finger reaching up for the trigger. 

She shot once, her face hardened for the first time he’d ever seen, and they both watched the paper rip about half a foot down the unsub’s leg. 

“See, in my head it’s hitting dead centre and then by the time I shoot it’s wiggling all over the place,” She explained, scratching her neck and frowning at the paper body, “I don’t suppose unsubs are willing to stand still and wait while the rookie figures out her shot,”

“Your hips are perfect, wide stance means you get more stability against the ricochet,” She tried not to simper at his words, or the way he sidled up behind her, his hands coming up to her shoulders as if he’d known her for years, as if JJ hadn’t told her how much he hated other people’s germs, “It’s in your shoulders you’re losing balance, try relaxing a little,”

But she couldn’t not when he was breathing down her neck, rubbing those long fingers over her shoulder blades trying to get her to straighten out her posture, hoping he couldn’t feel the way her chest rattled with nerves. 

“Relax,” He reminded, trying not to chuckle when he felt her shake her arms out as a means of hiding the way her skin had warmed under his rough touch, “You know, my unit chief taught me how to shoot. I wasn’t at all good at it when I first started,”

“Oh really?” She asked, her breaths feather light as he reached around her and adjusted her grip on the gun, “H-he must have been a good teacher,”

“He was the best,” Spencer agreed, brushing off the fact she was all but putty beneath his hands, “Three steps for the perfect shot; front sight, trigger press, follow through. Always keep your head forward, always keep your dominant finger ready, and wait until you’ve shot to drop your stance,” 

She looked up at him in admiration, and her soft smile was back as his own musk of laundry detergent and chamomile soap encompassed her as his arms did. 

He brought one of those big hands to the back of her head, moving her with gentle ease to look back at the target, a slight chuckle in his voice as he spoke: “Focus, what’s step number one?”

“Front sight,” She echoed him, fixing her shoulders with determination as he dropped his hands and stepped away from her. Taking a deep breath, she murmured to herself under her breath the next step as her forefinger rested over the trigger. She pulled it after a moment of courage, and froze in spot as she watched it hit where the stomach would sit. 

Not a perfect shot, but certainly a lot better than she had been doing. 

Her eyes widened behind the thick protective glasses, and her hands became fists above her head as she squealed in delight. 

“Did you see that- did you see!” She yelled over the sound proof ear muffs they both wore, and he was quick to grab the gun out of her swinging arms, clicking the safety on for her before she could end up blowing a hole in the ceiling. 

“Very good, give it a few months you’ll be a natural,” He complimented with a smile as she clapped her hands in glee, buzzing on the spot as if she’d chugged five energy drinks or doubled up on her coffee for the day. 

He tried ignoring the way his chest warmed seeing her so happy because of him, especially when she looked at him like that. 

--

“You said you needed those files, Dr Reid,” She’d appeared again, like she always did, and he had barely enough time to glance up from the paper he was already inspecting before he was hit by the perfume again, and he looked up to see two bright eyes watching him hopefully. Her arms were piled high with easily a box full of folders he had asked Anderson to find for him, and he saw the way she strained slightly to keep them held tight. 

“Jesus! Let me help you,” She prayed he couldn’t feel the way her heart thumping against the manilla folders as he leaned over to take them out of her grasp, the way her eyes fell to his light smattering of facial hair as his lips were little more than a few inches from hers. Even when his hands brushed hers, and he seemed to realise she was staring, watching her scramble to look somewhere else other than his amused eyes, embarrassed he’d caught her, “Thankyou. And just call me Spencer,” 

“Thankyou,” She echoed, shaking her head with a girlish smile on her face, her cheeks warm with humiliation, “I mean you’re welcome, any time,” 

For the sake of her self preservation he waited until she turned around to smile to himself, pretending he didn’t see the way she muttered under her breath, or that she almost walked straight into the filing cabinet on her hasty exit out of the office. 

“Seems like you have a shadow,” Emily’s voice met him as he heard her heeled footsteps approach, and they both watched their newest team mate almost bump right into JJ as she kept her head down, stroking her hair nervously, “She was super excited to meet you when you were away, said she went to one of your guest lectures you did with Hotch a couple years ago,”

His brows shot into his hairline, something warm flourishing in his chest when he saw her peek back to see the two of them watching her, and she immediately darted for her seat for an excuse to turn her back to them. 

Spencer smiled again, running a hand through his curled locks as if he was trying to think of something else other than the joy that had over come his features. 

She certainly was charming, in an incredibly girlish way, and he wasn’t the only one who thought it. He hadn’t heard Penelope giggling so much since Morgan had left, nor did he miss the way Rossi and Emily watched her darting around in the field, chasing after her as if she needed one of those leashes people had for toddlers.

Or the way Luke had had to talk her out of bringing a stray cat back to the BAU just two days ago because ‘it looked sad and lonely’. 

She was only eight years his junior, and yet he felt like the job had made him too hard, too mature, too tough against a softness like hers.

Girls had never really been interested in him, at least not for him as Spencer Reid, not as SSA Dr Reid. He had the occasional fling, even Maeve in the grand scheme of things had been a budding romance at best, and just the thought of Cat Adams viper-like eyes had him shuddering. 

He barely wanted anything to do with women at the moment, at least that was what he’d told himself every night he’d been fighting for his damn life in prison. 

But it was almost too easy to feel this way about her, like he couldn’t drink in her sweet smell or even sweeter voice fast enough, or bathe in her gaze that melted like rich chocolate when he took a glance her way. 

He didn’t bring it up with her until they were the last few people filing out of the office. 

“I can drive you,” She chirped, almost dropping the contents of her bag everywhere as she rooted for her car keys, and before he could protest, because it was like all he could see now was how eager to be around him she was and he wasn’t too sure he could keep himself from opening pandora’s box, she jingled her keys, that of course had crochet bluebells hanging from them and all but danced past him into the elevator. “Come on, you can have shotgun,” 

“I’ll be the only passenger, doesn’t that mean I automatically have shotgun?” He asked, following behind her as she stood in the elevator with a beaming smile, her finger clicking the ground floor button a bunch of times even though it made no difference how fast the doors closed. 

“Well, yeah, but it’s going to be the best shotgun you’ve ever had. I’m talking you can be Miss Daisy and I’ll be your Morgan Freeman,” And as if her spirit was infectious, he shook his head with a hidden chuckle.

There was a minute of silence between the two as she played with a loose thread on her cardigan, and it was then he took the chance to ask her the question that had been burning on his lips all day. 

“You didn’t by any chance go to University of Pennsylvania, did you?” Spencer asked, noting the way her eyes fell to the floor and how she licked her lips nervously.

“Yeah,” She replied cautiously, fingers clenched tightly around her keyring, “I know it’s not Caltech, but it was pretty good-”

“Didn't you see my lecture with Hotch?” He asked, and his smile widened tenfold when her hands slapped over her cheeks that burned with horror, moving quickly up to cover her eyes, “Little birdy told me you were quite excited to meet me-”

“Oh, Emily,” She groaned, burying her face in her palms, avoiding his teasing expression like the plague, “I knew, I knew she was going to tell you, I’m surprised she didn’t tell JJ first, unless she did and our whole team know I was some crazy girl who liked the FBI agents so much she switched her major,” 

“You switched your major for me?” He asked incredulously and he only laughed harder, one of the first times since he’d come home, when she groaned louder, turning away from him entirely. 

“Shut up, I did not swap my major for you,” She bit back, and she finally met his gaze, her expression an embarrassed wince, “I just… liked the material. You were very compelling,”

“Did you have a poster of us?” Spencer wanted to stop teasing, knew he was being a little cruel, but how could he resist when she shrieked in between laughter, shoving his shoulder with mortification.

“No,”

“Did you kiss Hotch’s picture before bed like an obsessive fangirl?” 

She gestured to him vulgarly as they left the elevator and headed for the car park, and it made a huge difference to the usual adoration she watched him with, but maybe, he thought, it made him like her even more. 

“No more shotgun for you, you’re going in the trunk like an old rug,” She snapped, though he could tell she was still horrified by the way she avoided his delighted hazelnut gaze. 

“Like an old rug?” He feigned hurt, but when they sat in her car, she finally looked over at him with something vulnerable and yet affectionate, like he’d seen her for all she was worth. He reached over the console to squeeze her hand gently, not missing the way her palm clammed beneath his and she struggled for words, so he continued for her, “That’s really no way to talk to your idol, you know,” 

Spencer swore his chest felt lighter than it had in months watching her laugh like that.

[intoxicated-chan]

angsty fight between miguel and wife!reader

and then they make up yayayayay

Give Me Reasons We Should Be Complete

✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader

✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel has been pushing you away for some time now. After a talk with a friend, you and Miguel try to sort things out.

✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “DANCING IN THE DARK” by Joji. Writing this made me think back on past crushes/lovers. But thank you for your request! I am also holding back on writing smut because it keeps getting labeled and it takes me longer to write.

✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1.4k

✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, angst-to-fluff, swearing, Miguel is kinda a dick head, mentions of sleep deprivation…

Want more Miguel content? Check out my MASTERLIST!

You stood in his cold and dark office. The best source of light was his laptop but his huge frame blocked most of the light. You managed around the crumbled paper and thrown desk objects with a plate in hand.

“Miguel?” You peer over his shoulder, “I made you dinner.”

He nods.

“You know you haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

He nods again.

“And you know that you’ve been here for a long time. I think it’s best for you to-”

“Take a break?” Miguel interrupts you, “I don’t have time for that.”

“Miguel, I’m sure whatever it is, it can wait a few minutes. All I’m asking is for you to eat something.” You try to set the plate down.

“I thought I made it clear that I do not want to be bothered. You’re distracting me. Leave.”

He didn’t mean it like that… He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that. He didn’t mean it like that…

“But Mig-”

“I said go.” He growls, his eyes turning its blood red from anger, “You’re becoming a nuisance.”

He didn’t mean it like that.

“Okay.” You tried not to let the crack in your voice show. You didn’t even bother to leave the plate behind because you knew it was going to be wasted.

“And don’t bother me again.” You heard him say as you left his office.

You took deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down before you burst into tears. But your hands shook, nearly dropping the plate.

You choked down your sobs and let your tears fall, the plate was left in the fridge, and you pushed yourself to your bedroom. It was basically yours now since Miguel was sleeping in his office.

The sheets no longer lingered on his cologne and any sign of his presence was gone, other than his clothing and a few photos. The room has become a mess of discarded clothing, old plates and cups, and candy wrappers.

How long has it been since Miguel showed affection? Or even looked at you?

This was normal behavior for Miguel, right? You should know, you’re married to him. You’re his wife. But he experienced loss, unlike you. You didn’t want to judge him for how he deals with his emotions, he’s emotionally distant. You knew that from the start.

And because of this, you felt like he deserved more than what you could give him. It’s what kept you going through the many times Miguel tore your heart, how it squeezed in pain at his actions and words. How you look the other way and ignore his hurtful words.

You couldn’t sleep. You left the still cold bed and dressed in something warm and headed up to the roof.

You sat on the edge, looking at Nueva York. How beautiful it looked during the night, which is one of the reasons why you liked sitting up here.

“Sitting all by yourself?” You tense up only to relax when you know that voice, “At this time? All alone?” Peter B. lands next to you, his daughter in his arms.

“I would ask my husband to join me but he’s too busy.” You respond truthfully.

“Again? He’s been at this all week.” He sits next to you.

“Yeah.” You huff.

“And… how are you holding up?”

“I’m fine.”

“Really? Because it doesn’t look like it.” He offers Mayday who reaches out to you.

You take her and set her down on your lap, “I just don’t know what to do, everything I do seems to bother Miguel. Checking up on him, bringing him food. It feels like he’s doing this on purpose.”

“Miguel’s always been difficult and from the time I spent with him… He’s different, not like the rest of us. He’s accepted his fate as Spider-Man and believes he’s destined for bad things 24/7. But good things do come along, like you. I think… I think he’s trying to come to terms that he can get it because he deserves it.”

Mayday coos, pulling at your hair, “And I think Miguel is scared. He puts on his tough act because he has to, yet he’s afraid to admit he’s scared. Normally, people would’ve given up on him. Why haven’t you?

“Till death do us part. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t give up on him because when you love someone, you love them every single day as who they are.”

“Talk about romantic.”

“Oh please.” You look down at Mayday, “Plus I think-”

“There you are.” You jump and this time, you remain tense, “I was looking for you.”

“Now you’re looking for me?” You respond, refusing to turn your head.

“It’s late, (Y/n). It’s dangerous.”

“I’m here, she’s alright.” Mayday jumps into her father’s arms.

“I’ve already had enough of you. Please, (Y/n).”

“It’s fine.” You tell him, following Miguel inside.

You head to the bedroom, “Where are you going?”

“Bed.”

“(Y/n)-”

“I’m tired and I do not want to be bothered. That includes you too, Miguel.”

“Excuse me?” He follows you into the bedroom.

“You heard me.”

“Please, (Y/n), talk to me.” Miguel begs.

“I’m sorry, did you just say talk? Like I have been trying to do for the past week?”

“(Y/n)-”

“You know what? No, no. You do not get to try to get me to talk after all of this. I have been trying, I have been all in. All I asked of you was to look after yourself.”

“I know.”

“You know? You KNOW?” You scoff rather loudly, “Did you know that Lyla has even talked to me about your behavior? I’m worried about you Miguel. All the damn time, even more when I see you not eating and staying up all night. All I ask is one minute, one bite of the damn food.”

“I’m… I’m so sorry.”

“Is sorry all you have to say? Not even a half assed excuse?” You see Miguel trying to form a sentence but nothing leaves his left and his head hangs low, “I need to be alone.”

You walk past him but he grabs your arm, “Please don’t leave.” He says, “Please don’t walk out that door.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch, you could have the bed.” You look up at him.

“I love you, (Y/n). I know I don’t say it as much but I fucking love you. He’s right, you know. I am scared. Scared of everything. Because at first, I didn’t think I could have that, have you. You let me hurt you and that is unforgivable.”

He’s crying. Looking right at you, letting himself be bare right in front of you. His grip on your arm loosens and his hands come up to your face, cupping your cheeks. You could hear his staggered breathing, trying to keep himself composed.

“But I wasn’t lying when I said I love you, I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted a family, and I wasn’t lying when I said that you make me believe in love.”

“I’m always here for you, Miguel. You don’t have to go through things alone, but when you want to, I’m here.” You take one of his hands into yours, pulling it away from your face but keeping a tight hold on it.

“It’s not that easy. I hurt you, I understand why you don’t want to.”

“I love you, Miguel. We’ll work on this. I promise you.” After a moment, Miguel practically tackles you, nearly falling to the ground. The hug is tight and warm, and you could feel your shirt become wet with Miguel’s tears.

“You’re okay, right?” His voice cracks as he speaks through his sobs, “Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I promise you, I am okay.” You whisper.

“I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“You can start by getting some rest. But you’ve got a lot of apologies O’Hara.”

You don’t know how long you and Miguel stayed like this, nor did you care. All you cared about was Miguel and he felt complete at last.

© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform with permission.

[dontsh0vethesun]

i’m hungry, i hope you feed me

masterlist

my username used to be just-a-torn-up-masterpiece

natasha romanoff x reader

summary: carol and valkyrie bring you a bottle of an asgardian aphrodisiac, you decide to put it to use

18+: sex potion?, smut; edging, fingering, face riding, oral, overstimulation, slight degradation, masturbation, underwear used as a gag, lots of biting nom nom

a/n: please let me know if you want a part two where valkarol join in too because i’m so tempted 🙏

word count: 2.4k | song for the vibes - ‘desire’ by meg myers

Carol and Valkyrie sat across from you, recounting their recent visit to Asgard whilst you leisurely sipped on drinks; the conversation was always easy and the four of you had made it a habit to spend your evenings together whenever you could. 

As the evening bled into the night, you were gulping the last mouthfuls of your drinks before you parted ways; Carol reached beneath her seat, pulling a bag into view. 

“So, we brought you a couple of gifts,” she spoke with a mischievous smile pulling at her lips. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” you returned, eyeing the bag she pushed across the table. 

“We know,” Valkyrie returned. “But we always do. Plus, we know you get sulky if you don’t get a souvenir.” 

“I do not,” you gasped, finding three pairs of questioning eyes peering back at you. “Okay, fine, I like gifts - is that so wrong?” 

“I, for one, think you deserve gifts every single day,” Natasha grinned, poking your side teasingly. 

“Open it then,” Carol groaned, growing impatient with her excitement. 

You eagerly took her command and reached in, grabbing something from the bottom of the paper bag and immediately smiling at the sight of it. 

“Is this what I think it is?” 

“If you think it’s a piece of rock from Aladna, then yes,” Carol laughed, leaning back in her chair as you marvelled at it. 

“You got me space rock - finally.” 

“Well, considering you ask me to bring you some every time I go to space, I figured I’d actually make good on my promise.” 

“The other gift was my idea,” Valkyrie smirked. Natasha reached in this time, wrapping her hand around the neck of a bottle. She peered at the label for a moment before laughing slightly. 

“I’m not sure we need this,” she cockily murmured, handing the glass bottle over to you to read. 

“Don’t knock it before you try it, Nat,” Carol grinned in return. 

“An Asgardian aphrodisiac?” you asked, feeling your cheeks heat up bashfully. You missed the way the three of them exchanged looks at how adorably shy you can get. 

“It’s strong stuff, have fun ladies,” Carol laughed. 

“And let us know how it goes.” 

— 

Despite agreeing you wouldn’t use it - not any time soon, at least - only a few days later, you were sat with two shot glasses in front of you. Natasha poured the pale pink liquid until they were full to the brim before sitting in front of you on the bed. 

“I have a wager for you,” she murmured, a playful smirk pulling at her lips. You looked at her curiously for her to continue. “A competition to see who can abstain the longest.”

“You’re setting yourself up for a loss already,” you grinned. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” she cooed, stroking the back of her fingers along your cheek to feel how easily they heat up with her attention. “You get pretty desperate. And you’ll be so pathetically eager for my attention - begging me to get you off.”

“Well, what does the winner get?” you huffed, looking away from her before you gave in before the game even began. 

“Total control,” she returned. “If you win, you can do whatever you want with me - I’ll do anything to you that you beg for. And, if I win,” she began, pretending to ponder on her response. “I think I’ll keep that to myself for now.” 

“Then let the best woman win,” you answered, passing her a glass whilst you lifted yours to your lips, waiting to drink the liquor down at the same time. 

— 

Twenty minutes later your back burned against the headboard of the bed; you’d built a wall of pillows between your bodies whilst you distracted yourselves with a movie. 

Every inch of your skin was on fire, your veins pulsed with need. Within thirty minutes, your shirt had been discarded with a petulant huff, hoping to cool off under the light breeze coming through the window. Your core throbbed and begged for some attention - some sort of release - but the smugness on Natasha’s face each time you squirmed in your seat only fuelled your competitive streak. 

The movie wasn’t even halfway through and you’d both stripped down to your underwear to combat the prickling heat the dreaded drink had caused. Natasha’s neck shone with beads of sweat, and you thought of dragging your tongue along her skin to taste it. She was so close that you could pull her into you with ease, pushing her hand between your legs; the desperation made you dizzy. 

She looked over at you when she felt you staring, her eyes dark and lust-blown, pupils wide and cheeks pink. Her breathing faltered beneath her desire and her fists grasped at the sheets to keep herself from touching you. 

“You giving up yet?” she rasped, desperately wishing you would so that this awful competition could be over. 

“No.” Your voice was breathy, it made her need you more. She could see your thighs clenching tightly together, your hips beginning to subtly buck upwards. 

“I can see you need me to touch you,” she mused, licking her lips. “I could make you feel so good, baby. I could give you what you need.”

You let her words linger. The way your cunt throbbed and ached was almost painful, your hand began its descent without any thought. You were so close to bypassing the waistband of your underwear until a hand wrapped itself around your wrist. 

“I don’t think so, sweetheart,” she mocked with a laugh. “Just admit defeat.”

You’d lasted 45 minutes. Surely, that was long enough to keep her from holding this victory over your head. You couldn’t wait a minute more. 

“Fine,” you grumbled, rushing over to plant your knees on either side of her, instantly pushing your clothed cunt against her thigh. You gasped at the mere contact and gave in to the kiss she dragged you into. Never have you felt a kiss so heated with passion, a newfound arousal made for sloppy kisses, teeth clashing and hands groping at anything they could reach. 

You felt as though you were on the brink of combustion, teetering on the edge with just a push against her; each nerve ending in your body was alight, frayed and ready to spark at a mere glimpse of heat. Natasha moaned into your mouth, grinding against your knee as best she could. You could feel the growing dampness of her underwear. 

She pulled you closer and closer to release; your body twitched and bucked with reckless abandon until she pulled away just at the precipice. You whined as she lifted you out of her lap, positioning you on the bed as she shuffled away to kneel before you. 

She kept her eyes on your panting form as she slipped her underwear away from her, putting her soaked cunt on display,

“Don’t think I forgot about our deal, honey,” she breathed, tossing her bra to one side, making a show of the soft pinching of her pert nipples. 

“But I-”

“Mm mm,” she tutted with a shake of her head. “No talking. And no touching.” To keep you silent, she forced her underwear past your lips, and you slackened your jaw to obey. “Patience is a virtue, little slut; good things come to those who wait, so sit back and look pretty, and I’ll fuck you when I’m done.” 

You fisted at the bedsheets to refrain yourself and, despite every muscle begging for the opposite, you kept as still as you could. She wasted no time before her fingers danced over her clit, swollen and sensitive, pulling a grunt of desperate arousal from her throat with the slightest pressure. Her hips rolled, her digits thrust into her core, and her head leaned backwards.  

It was the most desperate you’d ever seen her; a pure ravenous streak coursed through her and you could see it in the fervent movement of her digits. Each rub of her thumb against her made her gasp a moan, and her body flushed deep pink with need. 

You could hear how soaked she was - you could see it dripping to her knuckles - you wanted to wrap your lips around them. A choked moan fell from her lips as she came, you’d never heard her make such a cry of hunger before but it only made you need her more. 

“Fuck, I wanted to make you wait a little longer, but I can’t,” she sighed through heaving breaths. “I’ve never needed you so bad - I feel like I’m starving for you.” 

You couldn’t even utter a reply before her lips were claiming yours, hungry like she was parched and you were her only source of salvation. Your bra and underwear were soon discarded and your skin pressed against hers in a burning heat, the scent of sweat and sex filling the air. She knelt between your legs, trailing her fingers down to swipe through your folds; she smirked against you at how drenched you were and brought the shining digits to her mouth to lick them clean. 

Natasha’s eyes were primal when she looked at you, sparing no time before she shifted on the bed, licking a stripe through your cunt. It was messy and sloppy, each suck to your clit and flick of her tongue; the hand that wasn’t roughly digging into the flesh of your hip was buried between her legs; she practically whined against your sex whilst she humped her own hand with pathetic need.

She felt you near the edge of release and, for her amusement only, she pulled away. She left you hopelessly balancing on the precipice of relief whilst she came again, sinking her teeth into your inner thigh so roughly you’re sure they drew blood.

“Nat, I-“

“No. Just do as I say.”

You obeyed, of course, somehow enduring three more waves of relief being ripped away from your grasp. You ached and your eyes grew tearful with how much you just needed to be allowed to cum. Your jaw ached too from the way your teeth had been tightly clenched, biting into the underwear she decided to shove past your lips again when all you did was whimper and murmur unintelligible grumbles of disapproval. She’d allowed herself the freedom of rutting against her hand, soaking the duvet beneath her, whilst simultaneously leaving you in painful purgatory. She’d lapped at you for so long that your core burned with pain, clenching around nothing with tear-stained cheeks. 

After what felt like an eternity, she pulled away from you completely; her lips were plump and shining with your slick, stray hairs clung to her forehead and the rest was mussed up from the aimless tugging of your hands. 

“Such a pretty little slut,” she mused, panting almost animalistically as she cupped your jaw and pulled her underwear from your mouth. “Such an obedient girl.” The Asgardian elixir still had her pupils wide; both of you continued to thrum with desire, hearts thudding. 

Despite the want for attention between your legs, you couldn’t withhold your excitement when she crawled up your body, gripping onto the headboard as she lowered her cunt to your lips. The taste of her coated your lips immediately, soaked and hot and ready for you to devour. You moaned at the flavour, letting her grind onto your face with mindless pushes of her hips, burying your tongue deep within her. With the way you were so sex drunk, you ached to consume her entirely, dig into her as far as you could until the end of you and the beginning of her was too difficult to distinguish. 

She moaned at the feeling, pulsing around the muscle of your tongue, revelling in any feeling of friction applied to her sensitive bud that she could get. Your lips latched around her, messy and unbecoming and your nails clawed at her thighs whilst your own clenched as tightly as they could. 

“Fuck, you’re doing so good,” she grunted out above you. “Make me cum, baby - God ‘m so close.”

The eager, desirous pleas spurred you on until she came onto your lips. You swallowed down each drop she gave and pressed soft kisses against her as she came down from the high. 

“Nat, I need you, please,” you begged. “I feel like I’m gonna explode.” 

She laughed at your pouted mumbles, kissing along your jaw with bites into the flesh, stroking her fingers down your body until they slid through your folds. The pads of her fingers were instantly soaked, easily pushing into your wanting hole. 

“You’ve been so patient, honey,” she whispered, languidly moving her fingers with the heel of her palm nudging against you. You gasped at the sensitivity, twitching up into her touch. It was soft and gentle; she pampered your abused cunt with tender attention, letting you fall over the edge as soon as you needed to. 

Natasha knew you needed more - even she longed for more despite how many times she’d brought herself to climax - so she kept her attention on you. Your body was littered with marks, anywhere her teeth could reach had grooves and bruises from her bites. She thought of pleasing you forever; staying splayed on the sheets for as long as she lived until you were both worn out and spent. 

The air was filled with sounds of her fingers fucking into you, hoarse moans from the back of your throat and pants for breath like primal animals. The breeze didn’t cool your skin anymore but you were so wrapped up in one another that the sticky warmth didn’t matter.

You came again, and again until you had to push her hand away with a wince at just a ghost of a touch. You needed more but you couldn’t take it, she pulled away with a loving kiss to your lips. 

She crawled from the bed wordlessly, legs wobbling as she padded away, returning moments later with a glass of water for you to share. She took a sip before handing it to you, sitting next to you with kisses pressed against your shoulder as you drank. 

“Carol and Valkyrie are evil,” you grumbled between gulps. 

“I didn’t think I’d still be so horny after all that,” Natasha answered with a laugh. 

“I know,” you sighed with a mirrored chuckle. “How about I return the favour - we can take shifts until it wears off.” 

“Or until we pass out,” she smiled, already dropping the emptied glass to the floor to pull you on top of her.

[unkreativstermensch]

"Still super jealous as hell by the way.“

"Okay, now, can you…get outta my face?“ Steve annoyedly swats a hand at Eddie’s chest and ducks out of his space.

Eddie sighs and shakes his head. "Why are you-" He purses his lips, thinks. "You don’t…you still don’t like me very much, do you?"

At that Steve stops walking, huffs out an annoyed breath and presses his eyes closed. He turns to Eddie, looks at him with an expression Eddie can’t read and says, "No, Eddie. No, I don’t."

Eddie just watches him for a second, not sure what to do, studies his face, the furrow between his brows, the clear discomfort in his expression.

He scoffs. Getting a little angry. "Jesus, man,“ he says. "You just can’t get over it, huh? And here I was rambling on about how you were actually a good dude after all, but…no, turns out Steve Harrington is still just as much stuck in his stupid high school mindset as I would have thought.“

Steve just looks more annoyed now, a slight shift in his eyebrow and…he looks…frustrated? A little? How does that make sense?

"You,“ Steve says, voice low, but not because of the monsters, Eddie knows that much, "are unbelievable.“

Eddie blinks. "What?“

"Eddie, you’re the one who can’t get over it,“ Steve accuses him. "You always talk about that non-conformist shit and how people should just stop with the categories and drawers and labels but, dude, you’ve never judged people that way yourself! I have been saved in your brain as this dumb idiot jock ever since you’ve known me and…“ Steve huffs out an unbelieving breath. "And Eddie, I don’t know what to tell you…but you’ve never been nice to me. Ever. And when Lucas made the basketball team, which is amazing, by the way, you weren’t proud of him or supported him for that incredible achievement like you should have if he’s really one of your 'little sheep‘.“ He draws quotation marks in the air. "You punished him for it. You said you can’t make Hellfire? Fuck you. I’m just gonna have the most important part of the campaign without you, because you know what, you don’t deserve us anymore now that you’ve joined the dark side. Now that you’ve taken up a…a jock game. Because god forbid, somebody could actually ever enjoy playing sports.“

Eddie can’t follow. His mind’s lagging behind, still stuck on Steve apparently knowing DnD terms and saying he was never nice to him and-

Steve takes another step back.

"Eddie, for as long as I can remember you hated me. And yeah, sure, I was stupid and I did some stupid things, but…“ he shrugs one sided. "But I don’t think I deserve to be treated that way. I think I at least deserved a chance. And you never gave me one.“

Eddie blinks. "What do you mean I never gave you a chance, I-"

"Biology, sophomore year,“ Steve interrupts him. "We were assigned lab partners. I tried to really…put all of it aside, tried to get to know you, because actually, Eddie, you know what? I was sort of obsessed with you. Because you were so…loud and so unashamedly yourself, I admired you so much. You didn’t care about anything and you stood up for yourself and that’s something I’ve never been able to do, my whole life. I…“ Steve looks down, sighs a little. "I let people push me around because it’s the only way I feel like I can be of use. But you…you made me believe that maybe actually I…could do it, you know? Like, tell Tommy H. off or something…“ He looks so hurt. Eddie kind of wants to die. "But you…you acted like it was the worst thing ever, getting partnered with me. You didn’t even look at me. You…never gave me a chance, Eddie. So…sorry if one 'you’re actually a good dude, Harrington' doesn’t make me forget all of that, make up for it. Because I’m not so sure I believe you.“

Oh.

Oh no.

Eddie fucked up.

[favefandomimagines]

Daylight (r.c)

Summary: it takes Rafe some time to realize what he has

AN: this is very one tree hill code with JJ being very Lucas Scott esque lol and this was PURELY self indulgent, no one asked for this

Y/N Routledge sat on the edge of her bed, feeling like she could throw up at any second. The little plastic stick in her trembling hand bore the answer she had been dreading and hoping wasn’t true. The bold letters stared back at her like they were mocking her.

Pregnant.

Her mind raced. It felt as though the world had tilted off its axis. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think straight. What now? Who could she possibly confide in about this? How could she even begin to explain? The answer wasn’t simple, not when the father was Rafe Cameron.

For a year, their relationship—or whatever it was—had been a secret. Late-night meetings, whispered words in the dark, stolen moments when no one was looking. There had never been an official label on it. Rafe had made sure of that. “Labels complicate things,” he’d said, and Y/N, hopelessly drawn to him despite every red flag, had agreed.

But now? Things were complicated anyway.

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts. The door swung open, and there stood her brother, John B, looking confused and concerned.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked, leaning against the frame. “You’ve been in here for a while.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. She shoved the pregnancy test behind her back, but she wasn’t fast enough.

“What’s that?” His eyes narrowed, the easy-going brotherly demeanor replaced with something sharper.

“Nothing,” she blurted out, but John B wasn’t buying it.

He took a step closer. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

The lump in her throat grew too large to ignore, and before she knew it, the words came tumbling out. “I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

For a moment, John B just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then, with a long exhale, he sat down beside her.

“Okay,” he said carefully. “I’m not gonna ask who the father is. That’s your business. But whoever it is, he deserves to know.”

Y/N looked down at the floor, her chest tightening. “I don’t even know how to tell him,” she admitted. “What if he doesn’t want this?”

John B reached over, placing both hands on her shoulders. “Then you don’t need him. You’ve got me. And the rest of the Pogues. We’ll figure it out. This kid's gonna have a pretty cool life, Y/N. I promise.”

Y/N nodded her head. “I’m so scared, JB.” She whispered. John B nodded his own head before he pulled his sister in for a tight hug.

“I know you are. But you’re gonna be okay. I’m here.” He told her gently.

||

Later that evening, Y/N stood nervously outside Tannyhill. Her palms were clammy, her stomach a mess of nerves. She had rehearsed what she wanted to say a thousand times, but now that she was here, the words felt like they dried up in her throat.

When Rafe opened the door, his blue eyes scanned her face, immediately sensing something was wrong.

“What’s going on?” he asked, stepping aside to let her in.

Y/N fidgeted with the hem of her hoodie, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “I need to tell you something.”

Rafe’s brow furrowed. “Okay…”

“I’m pregnant,” she blurted out, her voice shaking.

For a moment, he just stared at her, his face unreadable. Then, as the realization sank in, his expression darkened.

“Pregnant?” he repeated, his tone laced with disbelief. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, Rafe. I’m serious.” Y/N replied.

He ran a hand over his buzzed his hair, pacing the room. “I… I can’t do this right now,” he said, his voice rising. “I’m trying to get my dad’s business back on track, and now you’re telling me you’re pregnant?”

Y/N felt the sting of his words like a physical blow. “I didn’t plan for this, Rafe! But it’s happening.”

He turned to face her, his eyes cold. “Maybe you should just do it alone. I’m not raising a kid with a Pogue.”

That cut deeper than anything else he’d said. Tears burned in her eyes as she stared at him, her heart breaking. “Really? That’s how you feel?” She asked, her voice unsteady. “Yeah, that’s how I feel. Did you really expect we were going to play big happy family?” He snapped.

Y/N let out a teary scoff before her impulsive thoughts took over. She stepped closer to Rafe, the palm of her hand connecting with his cheek, the sound of the slap echoing throughout the foyer. Without another word, Y/N turned and walked out the door.

||

One year later, and Y/N had given birth to a beautiful and healthy baby girl. It wasn’t an easy feat, but Y/N had John B and Sarah. Taking their roles as aunt and uncle way too seriously.

Now, Y/N cradled her one-year-old daughter, Isla, as the Pogues gathered on the beach. The little girl was the spitting image of her father—Rafe’s blonde hair, his piercing blue eyes. It was a constant reminder of the man who had walked away.

But Y/N wasn’t alone. John B, Sarah, JJ, Kiara, Cleo, and Pope had rallied around her, becoming Isla’s extended family. JJ, in particular, had taken to the role of honorary uncle with enthusiasm, and Isla adored him.

As JJ held Isla over the waves, her tiny giggles filled the air, and Y/N couldn’t help but smile.

“Look at you, kiddo,” JJ said, spinning her gently. “You’re a natural beach bum.”

From the corner of her eye, Y/N noticed a familiar figure further down the shore. Rafe was there, flanked by Topper and Kelce, his gaze locked on her. Then, his eyes then shifted to JJ and Isla.

He’d have to be an idiot to deny that that one year old was his. Y/N had kept the baby and now he was feeling an influx of emotions. Anger, regret, jealousy. Jealous that another man was raising his child, jealous that another man was in his place.

Y/N froze, unsure of what to do. JJ walked back to Y/N, handing Isla to her with a smile. Y/N couldn’t help but smile down at her daughter. But then she remembered who was watching them. When she whispered something to JJ, he turned and saw Rafe, his expression immediately hardening.

JJ said something else to her and Y/N walked back towards the rest of the Pogues. Rafe and JJ were now walking towards each other, JJ not messing around when it comes to Isla and Y/N.

“You need to leave her alone,” JJ said, his voice low and dangerous. “That’s my daughter,” Rafe snapped. “I have a right to know her.”

JJ scoffed. “You don’t get to decide that. Y/N does and you left her. You told her you weren’t raising a kid with a Pogue. You don’t deserve a second of her time.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched. “Just because you’re playing house with my girl and my kid doesn’t mean you can tell me what to do.” JJ laughed bitterly. “I’m not with Y/N. I’m just picking up the slack from the coward who abandoned them.”

Rafe stood there, seething with anger and regret, as JJ's words lingered in the air. But before he could say anything more, Topper yelled his name.

||

Later that night, Rafe pulled up to the old Maybank property that was now the Pogues sanctuary. He hadn’t prepared a single thing to say to Y/N. He knew there was a very high possibility that she would slam the door in his face.

What he said to her that night was harsh. He knew that and he knew he couldn’t take it back. He knocked on the door and waited for someone to answer the door. Rafe could hear the laughter and the music playing from the other side.

John B was the one to pull the door open, Isla in his arms. Rafe’s breath caught in his throat upon the sight of the little girl. “What are you doing here?” John B asked. “I’m uh, c-can I talk to Y/N?” He stammered.

Y/N’s brother looked at the man with furrowed brows, not used to seeing him in such an insecure, uncertain state. John B hated Rafe for what he did to Y/N, but Isla deserves a father. No matter how that happens.

“Y/N!” John B called. He turned away and walked back down the hall and soon Y/N appeared in the doorway.

“Can we talk?” Rafe asked. Y/N was hesitant; their last conversation did not go well obviously. “Um, sure. We can talk down at the store.” She answered.

The two walked silently down the dock to the bait shop where Y/N knew no one would be eavesdropping on them.

“Rafe, before you say anything, I didn’t want this to be how you found out. I didn’t want it to come to this,” she said quietly, her voice trembling but steady. “But you can’t just expect me to pretend like you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t want this baby. You walked away. You made your choice.”

Rafe flinched, her words cutting deep. He opened his mouth to argue, but something stopped him. The way she held Isla, the way Isla smiled at her mother, the warmth between them—it hit him all at once. What he had lost, what he could have had, and how foolish he’d been to let pride and fear dictate his actions.

“I—” He paused, swallowing hard. “I screwed up. I was scared, and I didn’t know how to handle it. I didn’t know how to be the kind of man you needed.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, but she didn’t look away. “You had a choice, Rafe. We both did. You made yours. I made mine.”

He took a step forward, his gaze falling to the water, as if he were gathering the courage to say what needed to be said. “I was wrong. And I know it. I’ve been trying to fix everything else, but I didn’t even try with you… with Isla. I was too damn proud. Too scared. But I don’t want to be that man anymore. I want to be a part of her life. I want to be a part of your life.”

Y/N blinked, the warmth in her chest slowly spreading, though the ache of everything that had happened still lingered. “It’s not going to be easy. We can’t just pick up where we left off.”

���I don’t want to,” he said softly. “I want to start fresh. As a father. As someone you can count on.”

A long silence passed between them, the weight of the past still hanging in the air. Then, slowly, Y/N nodded. “Okay. But you need to prove it. You need to show me you’re in this. All in. For her. For me.”

Rafe’s heart pounded, but he could see the flicker of hope in her eyes. Hope he thought he’d lost. “I will. I swear I will.”

||

The sun was shining brightly over the beach house, casting a golden glow over the yard where Isla’s second birthday party was in full swing.

The Pogues, along with Rafe, were scattered across the yard, setting up and getting ready to celebrate the little girl who had brought so much joy into their lives.

John B and Pope were hanging colorful decorations from the trees and the porch, adding the final touches to a vibrant banner that read, “Happy Birthday, Isla!”

Sarah and Kie were carefully bringing out a pile of birthday gifts, wrapping paper and bows sparkling in the sunlight.

Meanwhile, Isla was darting around the yard, laughing as JJ ran after her, pretending to be a superhero.

JJ scooped her up in his arms, making jet engine noises as he spun her around, keeping her distracted so she wouldn’t see the presents waiting inside.

Rafe stood off to the side, leaning against the window frame of the house, his gaze fixed on the scene unfolding before him. His heart swelled as he watched Isla giggle, her little feet kicking in the air as JJ swung her around like a plane.

Her laugh was like music to his ears, a reminder of how much he’d missed and how far he’d come since that day on the beach.

Y/N, who had just finished setting the cake down on the table, noticed Rafe standing there, his eyes soft and full of affection. She smiled to herself and walked over to him, sliding her arm around his bicep as she leaned her head on his shoulder.

“What’s got you all smiley?” she asked softly, her voice gentle but teasing.

Rafe looked down at her, a look of gratitude and tenderness crossing his features. “You,” he said simply. “Isla. You letting me back into your life and into hers.”

Y/N’s heart melted, and she lifted her chin to look up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips. Without a word, she leaned in and kissed him softly, the kind of kiss that spoke of everything they’d been through and everything they’d built together.

As they pulled apart, John B appeared at the doorway with a grin. “Alright, JJ, it’s time for cake and presents!”

JJ, who had been in the middle of a game of "airplane" with Isla, immediately scooped her up again, making exaggerated flying noises as he carried her inside. Isla squealed with laughter, her little arms flailing in the air as JJ pretended she was a plane about to take off.

As they entered the living room, JJ passed Isla off to Rafe with a grin. “Special delivery!”

Rafe smiled and crouched down to gently set Isla in her chair. He pressed a soft kiss on the top of her head, a tender moment of fatherly affection. Isla beamed up at him, her tiny hands reaching up to grab his face, a look of adoration in her eyes.

Y/N stood beside them, watching with a heart full of love as Rafe straightened up and looked at her with a smile. This moment was everything they’d fought for—a family, together, stronger than ever.

As Isla sat at the table, her little hands covered in frosting as she tried to grab a slice of cake, Rafe took a seat next to her, helping her scoop up a piece. Y/N joined them, wrapping an arm around Rafe’s shoulder as she placed a kiss on Isla’s cheek.

The room was filled with the sounds of laughter, chatter, and joy as everyone gathered around, ready to celebrate Isla’s special day. It was simple, but perfect. They were a family now, not just by blood, but by choice. And in this moment, surrounded by love and happiness, they all knew they’d found something rare and precious.

John B raised his glass, a grin on his face as he toasted, “To my niece Isla, the brightest light in all of our lives.”

Everyone joined in, lifting their glasses in unison, as Isla clapped her little hands, excited by the attention.

“Cheers!” Rafe said, glancing over at Y/N with a smile that said it all.

Y/N smiled back, squeezing his hand. “Cheers.”

As the cake was passed around, Isla sat contentedly on Rafe’s lap, covered in frosting and giggling with pure joy. And in that moment, as they all looked on at the little girl they had all come to love, Rafe and Y/N knew this was exactly where they were meant to be—together, as a family.

[eleganzadellarosa]

Can’t Do It Like Me

pairing: jealous ex!choi san x fem!reader

genre: Smut (you already know)

warnings: MDNI (rough sex, jealous sex, cheating (don’t condone it but it fits the plot), choking, manhandling, slight spit play, oral (m and f receiving), mirror sex, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), squirting, daddy kink, degradation, honestly some toxic shit happens)

word count: 4.1K+

A/N: As soon as I think of it, I come straight to Tumblr. Also San if you see this, I’m sorry 😔 Anyways, enjoy and thanks for reading :)

Every year like clockwork you had to be reminded of a past relationship that could’ve been something special. The notification popping up on your phone “Remember this day?” Yes. You did remember and you wish you could forget but you also couldn’t find the strength to delete the pictures.

Choi San. The man you described as “husband material” at some point in time, only to recall the many moments of toxicity that lead to the breakup. From the distrust to watching your location like a movie, he was possessive and sometimes even that was an understatement. He made sure everyone knew you were his and almost got into a few fights over it.

Eventually, you opened your eyes to how you always excused his behavior and finally put your foot down. You deserved a healthy relationship with a person who strives for the same thing. You were glad San wasn’t in your life anymore, he made it too stressful.

But at the same time, you missed him. Sometimes at night when your hands were between your legs, you'd think about him. You loved your current boyfriend, he was just what you were looking for. But with the recent growing distance in your relationship, maybe all good things in your life were destined to come to an end. He was always away for work, only coming home to see you maybe once every two months or so. A year into the relationship is when things started to change and now that it’s going on two years, you constantly felt alone and your vibrator wasn’t strong enough to keep you sane.

Your phone was ringing; a facetime call.

“Omg hey babe, to what do I owe this spontaneous phone call?”

He chuckled before answering, “Hey baby, I’m just calling to ask you a quick question.” He proceeded when you nodded your head. “Are you busy this weekend? The company’s having a joint event with another company and I may need a plus one.” The tone of his voice inflected upwards as he neared the end of his sentence.

Your heart jumped with excitement. Of course it wasn't a logical comparison to how much he loved you, but you felt the need to be paraded around; labeled as "his girlfriend". You haven't been feeling special recently, so a public event would hopefully be the perfect remedy.

“Oh my gosh babe of course I'm not busy! I’ll go choose my outfit right now!” He let out a hearty laugh on the other end when you squealed, jumping off the bed, leaving him to listen to you rustle around in your closet.

You quickly retrieve your phone when you remember and say your “I love yous” and goodbyes before hanging up. Saturday was only two days away so you’d need to put together the perfect outfit within that time frame. Luckily for you, you owned the perfect dress in his favorite color and your only goal was to make him want to completely ruin you wherever he pleases.

It was disappointing to say the least. Everything about this ride felt expensive. The limo itself, the sparking Swarovski detailing on the interior, the bottles of champagne. You felt wined and dined, but the thing you craved the most was missing. He seemed distant in a way. Maybe it was his body language; sitting with his legs turned away from you, dazing into the space behind you as you spoke. Or perhaps, it was the way his hand gripped his phone and peeked at it every time it'd buzz with a notification.

"Maybe he's always been like this" you tell yourself, blaming it on having not been around each other in a while. The thought of the both of you drifting away, tearing at the seams, was saddening. But you definitely weren't the one to blame and neither was he; maybe his determination and drive. As much as you wanted to be here with him right now, your mind kept drifting to San. He would be giving you his undivided attention. A hand or your knee, or knowing San, a seat in his lap. But enough about him, he was too toxic of a person for you to only recall his good traits.

buzz buzz

You looked at your boyfriend from a peripheral view, a bright smile across his face. It made your stomach churn, it just didn't sit right with you.

"Oh who's that?" you ask, leaning over toward him slightly.

He quickly shut it off and put it in his pocket. "Sorry babe, I was just answering a few texts from the guys. We have this group chat with all of us just so we can talk shit about my boss."

"Oh is he an asshole or something?"

"Yes but enough about my job baby, I wanna hear more about you. I missed you so much." He cupped your chin in his hand and planted a kiss on your lips.

You felt bad for thinking so ill of him when nothing was going on. Maybe that was something you never let go of with your relationship with San. He taught you what real anxiety was and you could never forgive him for that. The limo came to a stop and you peeked out the window to your right to see the destination. You felt like a movie star as you gazed at the long staircase in front of the building. You imagined each side lined with paparazzi, ready to take pictures of the beautiful couple exiting their limo.

Your door opened before you realized you had been daydreaming. Your boyfriend extended his hand for you to grab hold and finally walk up into the venue for the night. The inside was just as gorgeous as the outside. Chandeliers, marble flooring, expensive art lining the walls; the whole nine yards. When everyone comes into view, his arm is immediately around your waist. He introduced you to his colleagues and even to his boss which made you chuckle thinking back on the secret he told you about earlier. Everything was going well for you, yet for someone else, things were moving in a terrible direction.

San spotted you from across the large space, the conversation he was having fading completely the more he watched you. His jaw shifted and clenched seeing your boyfriend with his arm around your waist and hand on your ass. He didn’t deserve you. Sure San knew he wasn’t always the best boyfriend to you, but he could do so much better than whatever your boyfriend was attempting. Based on how giddy you looked, you probably haven’t seen him or spent much time with him lately, or so San thinks.

He remembers like yesterday hearing you tell him that you couldn’t be with him if he didn’t change, and at the time he couldn’t understand what that meant. He thinks he’s matured since then, at least in the way you wanted him to but seeing another man touch you made him realize maybe he has a lot more growing to do if he wanted to stay true to his claims.

He excused himself and made his way over to you. There was nothing wrong with going to talk to his absolutely beautiful ex girlfriend right? Your eyes widened seeing the broad shoulders clad in white approaching you. Your stomach twisted in knots, from both anxiety and flashbacks of your last encounter with him.

“Fancy seeing you here gorgeous.” San reached his point of interest, staring down the man at your side.

“San…how wonderful it is to see you.” You spoke with a forced smiled, trying your best to slow your heart rate. “How’s life treating you?”

It really was quite the surprise seeing him here, as this was the last place you thought to be bumping into him. It got you thinking what this event was for and how the hell he was even invited. Maybe, as you were, he was just someone's plus one. Although, that didn’t take away from the fact that you didn’t want to see him right now, especially knowing how weak you were for him still.

“Hmm it could be better if a certain someone was still in it.”

At that, your boyfriend turned to San, lip turned up in annoyance, “Do you know this guy babe?”

He and San exchanged fighting glances and you stepped in before things could get heated. “Yeah he's…an old friend. This is San.” You weren't sure why you lied, but it felt better to not reveal too much.

Your boyfriend extends his hand out to San reluctantly and San rolls his eyes before finishing the handshake. Things went well for the most part, although you would catch San staring at you, even throwing in a wink one of the times. Luckily your boyfriend caught none of it, knowing it definitely would have engaged his fight or flight response.

After a while, your boyfriend received a call on his phone and he excused himself saying it was important. You dismissed it and he gave you a kiss on the cheek before he walked away. San caught glimpse of the interaction and sneakily followed behind him through the heavy back doors. You stood by yourself at the table, taking small sips of your champagne. A hand slides across the small of your back and rests on your left hip. You turned expecting your boyfriend, only to see San with an unreadable expression. You tried to sidestep out of his hold but he tightened his grip on you.

“Hey don’t leave yet, we haven’t even gotten the chance to really talk beautiful.”

“Yeeeah…San we can’t be doing this right now.” You put a hand up to his chest and he backs away slightly.

“Doing what? Talking? He won’t let you talk to your friends?”

You scoffed, “No, he’s not controlling. And we’re not friends. It’s just I don’t know how comfortable I am talking to my ex who just put his arm around me.”

He rolled his eyes again, shifting his stance to prop a hand on the table, leaning against it to look at you. “Hmm well part of me thinks he doesn’t care.”

If only he wasn't starting to piss you off, you could finish admiring how good he looked. Wider shoulders, more defined arms and even his pecs were bigger. But you knew San and how he was when it came to you. He was possessive, sometimes it was for your own good but most times it just felt like he needed control over you in every way or he wouldn’t survive.

But you had to admit, that was his only flaw. Everything else about him was absolutely mind blowing, especially when it came to satisfying your needs. Your mind ran wild with thoughts. Thoughts of things you shouldn’t be thinking of as a taken woman. Yet, San making eye contact and the firmness of his chest under your hand earlier flooded you with memories of every time he’s fucked you into the mattress.

This was starting to get a bit out of hand and you weren't sure what else San had up his sleeve.

"You look good in your dress." He said looking you up and down, practically eating you with his eyes.

Come to think of it, he was the first to comment on your dress, your boyfriend hadn't mentioned it at all tonight. "Thank you, you also look very nice." You averted your eyes as you took another sip from the glass.

He stood up straight and stood a bit closer to you and rubbed a hand down your back as he leaned in to whisper in your ear, catching you off guard. It made it ten times worse with your dress being backless and the fabric dipping dangerously close to the waistband of your lace panties.

"If I were him, I'd take you somewhere to fuck you in it. Makes me wonder who he could be on the phone with right now. Think about it, if it were me, I would have my hands all over you.”

He was right. It was a fear that seeped into your subconscious every time he would miss one of your calls and blame it on work and how he acted in the limo earlier. He was starting to feel more than an arm's reach but you knew his job was demanding. So when he asked you to come out with him tonight, you decided to forget it all and allow yourself to have a great time and hope you would end your night moaning his name.

You hated San for bringing the thought back to you and you hated that his possessive personality was also a turn on at times but you knew better than to let yourself fall in his traps. A blush grew on your cheeks feeling the warmth of his breath tickle your ear. This was bad, you needed to stop him in his tracks before your boyfriend came back and questioned you. This had to end right here right now.

You pushed him into the nearest room, one you didn’t expect to be a bathroom, but anywhere was fine as long as no one saw where you went and with who. You carefully locked the door and turned to face him; he already had that arrogant smirk on his face.

“San what the hell?!” You shoved him on the chest. “I was hoping you weren’t going to cause any trouble, but I guess I was wrong. Why do you want to fuck up everything for me?”

He rolled his eyes and scoffed, “Are you even happy? You melted right into my touch earlier.” He walked closer to you, pinning you between him and the sink. “I didn’t say anything wrong either, he's a joke of a boyfriend whether you want to admit it or not.”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed, "Oh what? you think you can do better?"

He stared down at you, face contort in a stern expression. “I know I messed things up for us, but I think we can both agree that he doesn’t deserve you.” He grabs your hand and slides it down his chest, all the way down to his crotch.

“Feel that? You miss it don’t you? He must not fuck you good enough. He must not fuck you how I used to.”

“San…” he put a finger to your lips.

“Oh baby…I can see it written all over your face. Just ask me and I’ll give you what you want.” He steps even closer to you and tilts your chin up with his finger. “Say you’re my slut and I’ll fuck you better than he ever could.” He lifted you and sat you on the edge of the sink.

So much for not falling into his traps. You looked up at him with doe eyes and he looked down waiting for your answer. “I’m your slut…San please…” you were damn near out of breath and your head was spinning with how badly you wanted it; wanted him.

A pleased smile spread on his face. “My good girl, I knew you could do it.” His fingers tapped onto your lips and you happily sucked on two while he kept eye contact. He took them from your mouth and used them to rub slow circles on your clit. “Good girls kiss daddy.”

He lowered his lips onto yours, immediately slipping his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues danced together as he slipped his fingers into you. He wasted no time pumping them quickly against your sensitive spot, earning whines and whimpers.

“You need to forget him for a while and let me make up for all the shit he can’t do.” He spread your thighs and kneeled down between them. “I want you to remember this next time he even thinks he can do better than me.”

He kept eye contact while he licked along the slit of your still clothed pussy, stopping to suck harshly on the clit. You were holding your breath, your last resort for trying to keep in your moans. He hasn’t done much and your toes were already curling. He finally pushed your panties to the side and circled his tongue over your bundle of nerves.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pushing him closer to you, bucking your hips slightly against his face. He grabbed your legs and made them rest against his broad shoulders, your heels digging into his back. He added a finger into the mix, breaching your walls in an attempt to get you louder. Surely it was working more than you'd have liked.

Your head leaned back almost hitting the mirror as your chest heaved. Your toes curled and you pulled harshly at his dark locks making him groan against your skin. He sat up and roughly rid you of your panties before shoving them in his pocket.

“You don’t need these anymore. On your knees.” The way he said it gave you no room to disobey, so you shakily hopped off the sink and he pushed you down onto your knees. He unzipped his pants, letting his dick pop free. Thick and heavy looking as always and now you wanted nothing more than to wrap your lips around it. He grabbed your chin in his hand, “Open.”

You opened your mouth to let him spit in it, he loved messy head and he knew you did it best. He wasted no time in shoving his dick into your mouth and almost down your throat. He gathered your hair in his fist and bobbed your head at a quick pace.

“Go ahead, touch that pussy while I fuck your throat. Don’t stop until I tell you to.”

He knew how much you loved to be dominated, it was easy for him. The look of you on your knees gagging on his dick only made him harder and want to fuck your throat faster, but he wouldn’t be satisfied if you left this bathroom before he got to bend you over.

He pulled you off of him admiring the tears brimming your eyes and the puffiness of your lips. It was crazy to think that your boyfriend was the one sleeping next to you every night and San’s bed was empty. He deserved you more than some man who he found saying “I love you” on the phone with another woman. He deserved to fuck all your worries away. If you gave him a second chance, he would do better. Better than anyone else ever could. You were his forever and you seemed to have forgotten that, but he didn’t mind reminding you.

“Bend over the sink.” He kissed along your spine when you did, your eyes closing in ecstasy. “You ready for this dick?” He was so close, lips ghosting over your ear sending shudders down your back.

As soon as the word “yes” left your mouth, you felt the head of his dick rub harshly between your folds. Your chest felt tight, your heart was beating fast and you could barely keep your eyes open. He kissed in the crook of your neck making you look at him through the mirror as he slid in until he bottomed out. You could cum just from that small movement alone but you’d much rather wait until he fucks you right.

“You missed this didn’t you?” He pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in causing you to yelp from the sudden action. “I missed this pussy…I missed you.” His thrusts sped up to a demonic pace, the wet noises from the constant slapping of skin filled the bathroom effortlessly.

“S-san it feels so good~” you said through moans.

“I know baby, but I’m sad because you’re not using my name.” He used his other hand to wrap around your neck. He squeezed and made you even more lightheaded; It was perfect. “You didn’t forget it did you?”

“N-no Daddy n-never.” It was true and it was why you were never able to use it for your boyfriend. As much as you tried to forget San and how much he consumed your life, it was hard.

He tightened his grip on your hips and rolled his into yours. Of course it was wrong, but this is the most pleasure you’ve felt in a long time; admittedly since the last time you were with San. He had a way of handling you that set your senses on fire. He was exactly what you wanted and with the expectation of getting fucked tonight, you didn’t want to foil your own plans.

“Look how I fit right in. This pussy is mine forever."

He raised one of your legs onto the sink and grabbed a fistful of your hair, continuously plunging into you. Your eyes were rolling back and he patted your cheek, bringing your attention back to him.

“Mm mm, look at you. Look how pretty you look fucked out on my dick. Watch me fuck you just how you like.”

You didn’t want to see yourself in this state, it only made it feel more real. Your tongue lolled out slightly, one strap of your dress draped low on your shoulder and he held one of your breasts roughly. It was a lewd sight to say the least and the sounds that were coming from the speed San was fucking you made it no better.

There was a knock on the door and your head tried to whip in that direction but San tugged harder on your hair. He quickly told the person on the other side of the door that it was occupied, not expecting for them to say anything back.

“Y/N are you in there?” The voice of your boyfriend grated against your ears like nails on a chalkboard. You were guilty and moaning like you were unable to produce any other sound.

San’s eyes darkened and he smiled wickedly. “Oh yes she is and she’s busy.” He leaned forward and whispered in your ear, “Let’s put on a show for him, let him know who owns this pussy.”

He sped up his thrusts and quickly rubbed on your clit. You squirmed in his hold, trying to do everything you could to not scream from the pleasure. Nothing worked and now your boyfriend and maybe several other people could hear what you and San were doing.

“This pussy all for me?” He was an expert with how he rolled his hips into you; he was so deep and repeatedly hitting your sweet spot.

“Fuck Daddy, yes! It feels so good!” Your legs were like jelly and your orgasm was a few more thrusts away.

“You’ll never find someone who can fuck you like this? Who can make you beg for it?”

You whimpered loudly in response. You thought it wasn’t possible but he fucked you harder, fucked you faster and with the abuse on your clit there was no more delaying your bliss. You came hard, squirting onto the floor and partially on the man behind you. Your walls were squeezing him so tightly and he loved every single second.

"You gonna let me cum inside so you can take me home with you, hmm?" His thrusts were getting sloppier but he never slowed down and never stopped rubbing your clit.

The overstimulation and the way he spoke to you was driving you mad, you didn't think about anything else in this moment besides making this a night to remember.

"Yes Daddy fill me up, please please please!" You knew he loved it when you begged, especially for him to empty all his cum in you. Tonight was no different and he came in a few more thrusts.

"You did so well baby, took it so well." He gave you more kisses to your shoulder as he gently pulled out and let go of your leg.

By this time your boyfriend was already banging on the door, demanding that you let him in. San made sure to clean the both of you up before he let you out of his sight. You walked to the door, taking a deep breath as you unlocked it; San close behind. Your boyfriend looked like he could pop at any second with how red his face was.

"Are you fucking kidding me?! You see one old friend and you let him fuck you in the bathroom? IN PUBLIC?!"

He almost shoved at your arm, but San does it to him first. "I don't suggest you follow through with that. And maybe next time you should make sure your girlfriend is happy before you start running your mouth."

"That IS my girlfriend, back the fuck off!"

"Oh her?" San points and quickly glances in your direction. "No, she's mine, I was referring to the one you were on the phone with, but maybe you're already forgetting about her too."

And with that, your now ex-boyfriend had nothing left to say but apologize to you as you walked away with San. Maybe all things did come to an end, but perhaps for good reason.

[nymphoheretic]

˜”*°•.˜”*°• Plaything •°*”˜.•°*”˜

Synopsis: You've been caught in his trap. And now you're his little plaything. The Upper Moon 4, Hantengu, more so you belong to the 4 clones.

Warnings : smut, gangbang with Hantengu clones, oral(male and female receiving), anal, Double Penetration , degradation, biting, marking, Electroplay, Spit as lube Rough sex , cervix fucking, Monsterfucking , wing play, praise, Blood Kink, creampie, finger sucking, squirting (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word count : 4.6k

Pairing : Hantengu (all four clones) x fem!slayer!reader

A/N: I have no words for this. It's basically straight porn and I know tumblr is gonna slap a label on it. So, check it out on my AO3(same name). I'll link it in my bio/pinned post.

Special thanks to @bleuboyfriend for beta reading it for me! You're amazing Luke!!

Tags: @bakugosbratx (cause I'd get yelled at if I didn't) @herohibiscus (karaku brainrot partner in crime) @linpunny (monsterfucker bestie) @fushisslut (have your lawyer call mine) @sirenspider @unknownspecies @sailewhoremoon @potofstewie @medusashima @sweetblueworm @gh0stfac3-w1f3y @zoroarkstar @potatoboiasta @rav3enmuse @gingerspicelattemix @redsharksimp @shadowvessel172 @hiitogata @iamthepaninpanic @yandere-wishes @tommyinnit-kinnie @maddyybtw @rani-02 @hulahoopingpro @justsomereaderwholikesanime @dedukiddu @shockinglysubmissive @cherryblossomsenpai @cherry1hearts @violxtbxbyy @jeschalynn @jazzthatonewriterchick @comatosebunny09 @ilovetwodmen @cockadodalcuck @nightimewalk-chan @enchantedforest-network

You're not sure how it even happened. You were summoned to slay a demon that had been spotted in a village; only to find a cowardly little imp like Demon that was scared of its own shadow. Cutting its head off wasn't too difficult, but the result was devastating for you. The demon split into four clones of itself. Each one with a different demon blood art. 

They cornered you and the green one, Karaku found you to be so very interesting. His clawed hand reached out and caressed your cheek before tipping your chin back. His tongue – marked with the Kanji "pleasure" – slipped past his lips and touched your lips, tasting them. A deep purr like growl rumbled in his chest as he speaks to his counterparts.

"It's been so long since we've been separated and had a little plaything. We deserve to have some fun, right, Sekido?"

His green Kanji branded eyes flickering down to your torn top – the swell of your breasts inviting him as his mouth watered when he could hear your heart pounding beneath your ribcage. Your eyes dart from him to his three other counterparts. His fingers tilt your gaze back to his as he tilts his head down towards yours. “Ne, Sekido, can we have some fun with this pretty little slayer? Please?”

Sekido grits his fangs, his red Kanji branded eyes narrowing as he taps his staff on the ground, bolts of lightning sparking from underneath. His gaze cuts to your eyes and he can smell the fear that emits from you – saturating the air around them in its scent. He growls out, voice guttural and deep. “Only if Aizetsu and Urogi agree.”

Karaku grabs you in his claws and sits you down in his lap, easily pinning you against his chest  as he spreads your legs. One hand cupped your breasts, pinching your nipples as the other dug its palm into your core, eliciting a moan from you. The sound was like heaven to his ears. Karaku’s tongue touches the shell of your ear before his fangs nip at it playfully. “Aizestu, Urogi, c’mon say yes. I wanna play with our new toy.”

“Get your hands off of m–” Your words die off in a moan when he rubbed two sharp clawed fingers over the damp spot forming over your panties.

“Hmmm, little plaything. You were saying?” He ground his fingers harder against the clothed little pearl of nerves, making you squeal out. “Just look at my counterparts. Hard just from watching us. You all should join. If not, I’m still going to have fun.”

Urogi’s control finally snapped as a feral grin spreads over his lips when your musky scent permeates his senses. His own tongue – marked with the Kanji “Joy" – flicks out of his mouth as he drops to his knees in front of you. “Fuck, she’s sexy. And we get to have fun with her. Don’t mind if I do.” When Karaku ripped your panties off and tossed them to the side, Urogi wasted no time diving his face between your thighs, his tongue curling through your sticky folds.

You arched your back, pressing your ass back against the other demon’s crotch, involuntarily grinding against his hard cock as the one with golden eyes feasts upon your center. It was ironic that the one with “pleasure” on his tongue was not the one between your thighs. You whimpered when Urogi’s tongue curled through your cunt, slurping messily as he sucked on your clit.

Aizetsu whimpered softly as his cock twitched against his thigh, rising to attention. He watched as his two more confident counterparts have their fun with the pretty slayer. “Karaku.” He said finally, his voice soft almost timid. “I think you should be the one eating her while Urogi fucks her throat.” His face flushed as he palmed himself through his pants. “And Sekido should use his blood demon art to shock her into submission as she takes his cock first.” 

Karaku grinned. “That’s a great idea, Aizetsu!” He laid down on the ground, relaxing against the cool floor as his hair fanned out underneath him. “But I think I’d rather her ride my face while Urogi fucks hers.” Easily holding down your hips, he grabbed you and pulled you away from Urogi’s tongue, a string of slick mixed saliva connecting you to the avian-like demon.

Urogi pouted at having his fun ruined, but grinned at Aizetsu’s words. The little shy bastard has some good ideas in that sorrowful mind. He cackled as he fumbled with the tie that held his pants together as Karaku settled you over his awaiting mouth. His talons caressed your face, thumb wiping at the tear that threatened to fall. “You’re going to be a good little cocksleeve for us, right?”

Sekido growled at the softer, more timid counterpart as he tapped his staff against the ground once more. “What utter foolishness. Like I want to stick my cock in that little whore’s body.” But his hard cock betrayed his angry words as he listened to your saccharine moans while his counterparts had their way with you. His narrowed red eyes watched as your throat bulged as Urogi slid his cock in deep, the yellow-eyed demon giggling as you tapped his thigh.

Growling once more, he dropped to his knees, pulling his dick out of his pants and fisted it roughly. His fangs grit as his claws of his other hand found your hair and yanked your head back to force you to meet his eyes. “You should feel lucky that I’m willing to fuck a needy bitch like you.” His palm smacked against the meat of your ass, making your hips buck against Karaku’s eager tongue and forcing more of Urogi’s cock down your throat.

You let out a whimper around the thick girth on your tongue as you feel Karaku dig his claws in your hips, pulling you even further down onto his mouth. He slurped so noisily at your pussy as his tongue dug orgasm after orgasm out of you. You lost count. Your moans were muffled by Urogi as he thrust into your mouth without abandon. Another pathetic sounding moan vibrated in your chest when you feel Sekido’s claws dig into the fat of your ass and spread your cheeks.

Shame filled your body as your eyes darted around, searching for someone to help you, but they only found Aizetsu, who was calmly stroking his cock, pre leaking – oozing from the tip as his face flushed with a blush. 

Aizetsu covered his face with his hand as he watched his counterparts. His voice was soft as he directed them on what to do. “Urogi, wrap your hand around her throat, choke her until she’s able to take all of your cock down her slutty little mouth. She doesn't get th breath if she doesn't. Kakaru suck on her clit more while using your tongue to fuck her hole. Sekido...” He pauses, his eyes darkening with desire as he works his hand over his cock faster. “Prep her ass for your cock.”

Your eyes widened when Aizetsu told the red-eyed demon what to do. You try to shake your head, but Urogi had wrapped his talon around your neck, his hips snapping faster as he fucks more of his cock down your throat.

“Now, pretty little plaything. It's not nice to be distracted. Eyes on me.” He grins as he tightens his hand around your neck, relishing in the choke-like moans that vibrated around his length. When you shift those big teary eyes back to his, his tongue fell from his mouth as he curled it in the air. “That’s the fucking look! Cry more, slayer!”

You could feel Sekido’s sharp claws dig into your flesh as he lowered his face between your thighs, his tongue slipping out to trace the ring of your puckered little hole. You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped. Sekido’s tongue was hot – hotter than Karaku’s. It felt like currents of electricity were shooking up and down your spine. 

Karaku flicks your clit, scraping it with his fangs as his fingers slip over your clenching hole. He lifts you off his face for a moment to stare up at your face. “Aww, is the pretty little slayer crying?” He cooed condescendingly, “Such a good girl you are.” His praise sounded fake as he pushed his fingers past the first ring of muscles of your dripping pussy. “Oh? Maybe I should call you a slut? Or our little cocksleeve whose only purpose is to be fucked by four demon cocks?”

Moaning around Urogi’s cock at Karaku’s filthy words, words that sounded like they were dipped in honey to your hazy mind. His fingers thrust up into you twisting and turning until they found that spot that made your body twitch and wreath above him. “That's the spot. Come on, let go for me. Cum on my tongue. I take pleasure in it.” Karaku mocked as he licks your cunt with the flat of his tattooed tongue.

“Shit, Karaku. Her throat tightened up when you did that.” Urogi’s cock twitches on your tongue as his talons tangle in your hair, pulling you even further down on his girth. “Fuck, gonna cum down this nasty throat. That what you want? My cum painting that greedy mouth of yours?” His smile was beyond feral as the talon around your neck tightens to the point where you couldn’t breathe.

Sekido growled as you ignored him in favor of his counterparts. His tongue circled the flesh of your asshole before pushing past that tight ring and wiggling inside. “Don’t fucking forget about me, nasty bitch.” He used his blood demon art to send streaks of lightning through your body, making you convulse and shake – the feeling making your body release your juices on Karaku’s tongue.

“Did I fucking say you could cum, dirty slut?” Sekido removed his tongue, fangs biting deeply into the roundness of your cheeks, nails digging into your flesh. He relishes in the fact that you had to pull away from Urogi to scream out from the painful pleasure of his abuse of your ass. Your blood trickled down his throat and he moaned a little at the taste of it. It was sweet – a potent elixir that coats his tongue. “Fucking delicious.” 

Aizetsu whimpered as he stroked his cock, his hand still covering his blushing face. His balls felt heavy as his length twitched against his palm, precum dribbling down the leaky tip. He was trying his best to remain calm, telling them how to please you. Aizetsu was shy, but even he had a limit on how much he could take – and he was approaching it. “Karaku, fuck her pussy hard, but don’t cum inside. Sekido, stop teasing her and give her your cock too. Spread her ass and spit in it. Urogi, have her suck your balls.”

Urogi eagerly did as Aizetsu told him, fisting his cock as he tilted your chin to stare deeply into your teary eyes. “Fuck, I love that you're being such a fucking crybaby and we haven’t even fucked you yet.” His thumb slipped into your mouth, talon scraping over your tongue. “You heard Aizetsu. Open up.” Urogi grinned as he placed his balls on your tongue and tossed his head back and lets out a mewl when your lips closed over them to suckle. “Such a good fucking whore you are.”

Karaku licked his lips clean of your sweet essence as he slid you down his chest, a trail of your slick coating his skin until his throbbing cock nudged at your hole. He shuddered at the feeling of your warm pussy gliding over his length. “Gonna fuck you so good. You gonna be a good little toy and take my cock all the way, yeah?” He lined the sticky tip up with your dripping hole and pushed inside with a low moan.

Sekido spread your ass cheeks, his eyes narrowing at the sight of your twitching little hole. Gathering a fat glob of saliva on his tongue, he lets it slide down past his lips to drip down into the crack. He used his thumb to smear it around and slowly pushed it inside to lubricate it more. Sekido lined his cock up with your tight hole and slowly pushes past the ring of muscle. “Tight ass bitch. Let me inside.” He growled as he gripped your hips tightly, claws threatening to rip your skin again.

You stiffened at the pain of being stretched so full by two cocks, the burn almost unbearable. Your moans were muffled by Urogi’s balls still suckled between your lips as he stroked his cock above your face. You whimpered as you felt them taking alternating thrusts inside you, touching the deepest part of you. Tears burned at the corners of your eyes as you could feel your body reacting to them, clenching down on them.

Karaku grinned as he felt your walls flutter and hug his dick tightly, sucking him in deeper. His finger squeezed in between your bodies to toy with the sensitive pearl of flesh. He watched as your back arched against him, shoving more of your ass back onto Sekido’s cock Laughing when he felt your nails dig into his chest like that would make him stop. “You’re so cute, slayer, but Aizetsu said to fuck you hard...” Karaku planted his feet on the ground more firmly, his claws digging into your thighs as he grabbed you tightly. “So, that’s what I’m gonna do.”

Sekido grunted as he snapped his hips roughly, bullying his fat cock deeper into your tight ass. A growl left him as your warm heat wrapped around him, hugging him so tightly. “F-fuck...” He whined softly, his face scrunching up from the pleasure. “Squeezing my dick like this. You must want me to fucking cum in your ass. You’re such a filthy little cumslut.” He grabs your hips so tightly, nails digging into your flesh and causing fresh blood to drip down onto Karaku’s waist.

Urogi’s tongue slipped out of his mouth and curled into the air as he laughed loudly, his cock throbbing at the sight of your tears. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum if you keep looking up at me with that face. Those fucking tears make me so hard. You want that? For me to cum on your face like the needy whore you are?” His voice shudders as his hand speeds up. “Or you’d rather I cum down the fucking throat, plugging up your nose so that you have no choice but to swallow?”

Before you could even answer, Aizetsu made the decision for you. “Make her swallow it, Urogi.”

“You heard him! Open up!” The yellow-eyed clone giggled as he pushed his cock back between your lips, dragging the throbbing hot flesh across your tongue. The tip hit the back of your throat and Urogi howls with pleasure as he grabbed the sides of your head to hold you steady as he fucked into your mouth.

Aizetsu’s face was flushed even as his blue eyes darkened – his control was wearing thin as his cock throbbed with the need for release. His hand wasn’t enough. He wanted to be inside your snug little pussy. He wanted to be the one to fill you so full of cum that it caused a bulge in her belly. Aizetsu bit his lip, fangs piercing the plump flesh and blood dribbled down his chin – which he quickly licked away. Soon. He’d let his counterparts finish first. 

Karaku’s hips meet yours as his cock bullied your insides, his tongue out to show the kanji etched on it as his eyes zero in on the way Urogi’s dick bulged in your pretty throat. “Fuck you’re taking all three of us so well.” His fingers tighten around your thighs – they were sure to leave bruises behind, marking you as his. Karaku grit his fangs as his balls slap against your cunt, cock tingling with the tale-tell signs of his release.

He had half an inkling to ignore Aiztesu’s command and cream this drippy little pussy of yours with his cum, paint your deepest parts in his color. But he was kinder than that. Aizetsu has been telling them just how to pleasure you, all while edging himself. “Go ahead.” He leaned up and nipped at your collarbone, sucking at the skin to leave more of his marks behind. “Cum on my cock. Soak it. Y’know you want to.”

Sekido threw his head back, hair fanning out as sweat dripped down the side of his face. Your tight little ass was giving him so much pleasure. His balls tightened as his dick throbbed and swelled inside. “Fucking bitch. Gonna cum in this filthy ass of yours. You’re just a fucking cumdump for me, got it?”

“Fuck, I’m about to cum.” Urogi grins as his talons pinched into the skin of your cheeks as he thrust in and out of your drooling mouth. “Take it! And don’t waste a drop!” With a few more deep thrusts, his hot milky seed filled your throat at such rapid speed that you had no choice but to swallow or choke.

Karaku moans loudly as his hands leave your thighs to squeeze your breasts as he felt you tighten and clench down on his cock as he found that sweet spot, pressing on his repeatedly until he felt you shaking and trembling. “Give it to me, pretty little plaything. Soak me in your juices. Let me see you make a mess like the good little slut we’re training you to be.”

You tossed your head back as you let out a loud cry. “Oh fuck!” You screamed as you came hard on Karaku’s dick, rings of cream frothing around the base as he continues to fuck you through your high. “I...I can’t. Please stop.”

Sekido grunted as he slid his cock out and pushed it in deep – stretching the tight muscles into his shape. “Shit.” He grit his fangs tightly as his claws cut into your skin once more. “Tch.” The red-eyed clone scoffs at the feeling of your blood coating his fingers. Taking his hand, he grabbed your cheek and forced your lips to part. “Suck your filthy blood off my fingers, bitch.”

The metallic taste that covered his fingertips coats your tongue as Sekido fucks into your tight hole with fast deep thrusts as Karaku’s mouth sucked on your nipples, his fang scrapping over the swell of them as his own thrust began to grow more and more sporadic.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Karaku moaned as he slammed into you once, twice, three more times before he pulled out and fists his slick covered cock. “Shit...” Cum paints your lower stomach and thighs as he finished and breathes heavily as your slick pussy lips grind over his half mast dick because of Sekido’s brutal thrusting.

Sekido grabbed one of your arms and pinned it to the small of your back, forcing you into a deeper arch for him as he fucked your ass with fast, hard snaps of his hips. His cock tingled and swelled inside you as he felt his end nearing. “Slutty ass bitch. You gonna cum from me fucking and filling your ass with my seed? I bet you are.” His teeth grit from the feeling of your tongue swirling around his fingers as you clean the blood off of them. “Fucking...I’m cumming. Cumming...!” He snarled as he came hard, spraying your insides with his hot cum.

You moaned like a cat in heat from the feeling of Sekido filling your tight, puckered hole – it creamed around his cock because it was so much. You collapsed on top of Karaku, chest heaving. “No...” you swallowed. “No, more.”

Karaku runs his claws soothingly over your back, his grin never leaving his face as he heard Aizetsu slowly making his way over to where you were. “But you only took three of us. There are four of us.” He reminded you as the shy blue-eyed clone pulled you up and into his arms.

Aizetsu cupped your cheek as he lifted you up against him and wrapped your legs around his waist. His lips found yours as his tongue seeks out yours. He swallowed your muffled cries and ignored your fists as they pound against his chest. He lined his weeping cock up with your hole, lifting your hips easily.

“Wait a second, Aizetsu. I ain't get a turn to fuck her.” Urogi said as he flew over to the two of you. “Lemme have her ass.”

Hands spread your ass cheeks, cum still dripping out of the tight hole of your ass. “This ass?” Aizetsu whispered as he slid inside your pussy with one fluid movement, your arms automatically wrapped around his neck as you moaned so beautifully for him. “G-go a-fuck-ahead.”

You let out a shocked gasp when the yellow-eyed avian-like demon let out a cackle as his talons wrapped around your shoulders as he lined his cock up with your still twitching hole as Aizetsu slowly thrust up into you. “No, please. I can’t take it anymore.”

Aizetsu turns your face back to his, his tongue – the Kanji “sorrow” etched into the pink muscle – sliding out to lick at the tears that gathered in your eyes. “You can, pretty slayer. Aren’t we making you feel so good? Tell me I’m making you feel good, please?”

Urogi ignored your pleas and pushed the fat tip of his cock past the tight ring of muscles, his knees buckling a bit. “Fuck, you’re so god damn tight. Such a horny thing.” He licked a line up your back, tasting the sweat that covered it. “You love having two cocks in your tight ass and cunt, right?”

Karaku felt left out and walked over to where his counterparts were and grabbed your hand. “C’mon pretty slayer, touch me too.” Wrapping your fingers around his cock, he used the movements from the other two thrusting up onto you to fuck your fist. 

You wrapped your other arm around Urogi’s neck, nails digging into his back as he and Aizetsu pound into you. You could tell the difference between the two by the pace. Aizetsu was slow, methodical and careful – building up an orgasm out of you. While Urogi fucked into you at an animalistic pace, his balls smacking against the curve of your ass. Your mouth dropped open into a series of drawn out curses, nails digging into Urogi’s back as the other squeezed Karaku’s cock.

“Oi, human!” Sekido growled out, not liking that he was the one left out now. “You got one more hole, let me–” He started to take a step towards them, his cock bobbing as he moved when all three of his counterparts glared at him.

“We wanna hear her.” They growled. The sounds of your moans were like the sweetest of sounds to their ears and they wanted to hear it more and more.

Aizetsu angled his hips so that his thrusts were deep, the thick tip fucking against your cervix with each precise thrust. His mouth drops open in a whimper as his eyes teared up from the feeling of your pussy quivering around him. “Please. Need for you to tell me that I’m making you feel good, slayer. I need to hear it.”

Each word of his last sentence was punctuated by a deep thrust and your head fell back against Urogi’s shoulder. “Fuck! You’re making me feel so fucking good.” You gave into the hypnotic spell Aizetsu was lulling you into with his gentle and tender touches.

Urogi laughed as he picked up speed, his balls starting to tighten with the threat of his release. “You’re damn right we are.” His feathers ruffled when your nails dig into the skin between them. “H-hey...” He mewled. “Not the wings.” The avian-like demon lets out a screen when your hand grabs the downy feathers near the base of his wings. A shudder goes down his spine as his dick swelled inside you as it began to paint your walls with his thick cum. “Fucking dammit...” 

Karaku watched as Urogi fell to his knees, his cock popping out of you as he did so. Aizetsu took that time to turn you around, hands wrapping under your thighs so that he could easily lift you up and down on his cock. “Don’t mind if I do.” He shoved the yellow-eyed clone out of the way as his lips attached to your clit.

The scream you let out was like music to them as Sekido begrudgingly walked over to use your hand to stroke his cock to completion. Your other hand wrapped around Aizetsu’s neck as you moaned those sweet sounding cries in his ear, encouraging him that he was still making you feel good. His lips nuzzled your ear as his voice rumbled, “Cum for me. Let me feel you soak my cock. That way I really know I’m making you feel good.”

“Yeah, our pretty plaything. Cum for Aizetsu and let me taste it. You can squirt, right?” His tongue swirled on your clit, teasing it with the tip as the blue-eyed clone thrust into you so deeply that your body jerked, hand tightening around Sekido’s cock.

“Fucking shit, bitch.” Sekido cursed, the tip drooling with pre as he felt his balls draw up, the telltale sign that he was about to cum. He fucked your fist faster, the slick sounds of it echoing in his ear. Sekido lets out another grunt before he spilt his seed, coating the top of your fist with it. “Making me cum like that...you’re such a whore...” he panted.

Aizetsu bounced you on his cock, determined to make you cum – to make you squirt so hard you passed out from the pleasure. His fangs grazed over the shell of your ear before he stuck his tongue in your ear as he felt you tighten up on his length. “Just let go and be our plaything.” He whispered.

Your back arched like a cat as you felt your thighs tremble, clit throbbing on Karaku's greedy tongue. Your chest heaved as your body convulsed, cumming hard, squirting – the hot clear liquid drenching Karaku’s face and dripping down Aizetsu’s thighs.

“Good fucking girl.” The green-eyed clone praised after he swallowed what he was able to catch on his tongue.

Aizetsu let out a whine as he trailed his tongue down the length of your neck before biting down gently on your pulse point. His thrust sped up until he was pounding into your soaked pussy. “Oh fuck. Oh shit...” He whimpered, tongue lapping at your pulse as he felt his cock twitching. He wasn’t to last much longer. “Gonna cum. Gonna cream this pussy. Say that’s what you want. Please tell me you want my cum.”

In your hazy fucked out mind, anything he said sounded heavenly. You mewled out weakly, “Want your cum. Give it to me.”

No sooner than those words left your throat, Aizetsu gave you a few more deep, cervix kissing thrusts before his hot cum spilled over inside your needy cunt. “Take it. Take it all.” He whined out as he fucked it deeper into you. “You’re our plaything now.”

Even you had to agree, You’ve become the plaything of the Upper Moon 4, Hantengu – no, the four clones, Sekido, Urogi, Karaku, and Aizetsu.

©️2022-23 nymphoheretic - I do not give permission to copy, edit, alter, or distribute my work. Do not adverse on tiktok. Do not repost on any other platform.

[reidsbabyhoney]

second chances | s.r.

the one where Spence regrets everything that’s happened in the past six months.

pairing: spencer reid x bau!reader category: angst, fluff cw: none wc: 3.3k a/n: this took forever to write because every time i tried writing it i absolutely hated how it came out. i’m hoping i gave them the ending they deserved and that you all love it! also please let me know if there's any warnings I should add.

pt.1 masterlist spencer reid masterlist

The entire car ride home was a blur, and you mean that literally. The tears that coated your eyes never seemed to stop even after you arrived back home. The dull hum of the engine couldn't seem to drown out the noise-deafening pounding in your chest.

You couldn't help but replay every moment from tonight on a loop, the gut wrenching realization that Spencer moved on so quickly, so easily. It felt as if your entire world had been tilted on its axis and you were left to live in a reality that didn't make any sense.

Maya. You hadn't been able to look at her without a sharp pang of jealousy making its way though your chest. The way she spoke to Spencer, so casually, so possessively like you were going to take her from him at any second. But in reality that's what she did to you.

You told yourself that you were fine, that you had enough time to move on and get over that relationship, but its clear you were lying to yourself. Every moment you were in his presence were the few moments of bliss where you could pretend everything with him was normal.

You had loved him. You still did. The harsh truth of that might've hurt worse than tonight's events.

Once you finally arrived home you didn't bother to go inside right away. Turning off the car you sit staring at the dashboard, trying to ground yourself in something, anything but the whirlwind of emotions going on in your mind right now.

As your about to open the door, your phone buzzes in the passenger seat. Picking it up you see it's a message from Penelope.

From: Penny

Are you okay, sweetheart? If you need anything I'm just a phone call away. Please don't let his stupidity ruin your night, we all know how much of an amazing person you are!

A small smile painted its way across your features, though drained and not very genuine.

You quickly texted her back letting her know you were okay and just needed some time to process everything. With that you finally got out of the car making your way inside, preparing for another sleepless night.

-

You had taken the day off. Well technically you didn't request it, it was given to you by Hotch. The team had just gotten back from a long gruesome case and he decided that everyone needed some time to decompress.

It had been a couple weeks since 'The Incident' as Emily has so kindly labeled it. Since then the unkind thoughts hadn't left your mind.

You spent most of the day curled up on the couch barely able to focus on the movies playing on the TV. Your mind was a storm of thoughts that blossomed from that night, though not into flowers, more so like weeds that didn't want to fully be pulled from the ground.

You replayed every word he said that night. Every glance, subtle expression. There was no warmth in his tone, nothing that suggested the gentle, awkward genius who had found solace in your presence.

You knew it hurt, but what hurt more was the realization that Spencer wasn't the only thing you lost that night. You were mourning the loss of what had been,  what could've been.

-

The next morning, you showed up at the office. The decision half-hearted, debating on requesting for another day out of the crowded space. You're not sure what you were expecting, for something to just change overnight, or if you needed to prove to yourself that you could handle it.

You walked in to see the team gathered around the bullpen. Derek was leaning against the counter, talking animatedly to JJ, while Penelope was chattering away in her usual high-energy manner. They all seemed fine, but you knew they could feel your emotions. You had always worn them on your sleeve, and the team was nothing if not perceptive.

And Spencer? He was nowhere to be found.

Your heart dropped, but you quickly masked the disappointment with a neutral expression. You couldn’t allow yourself to think about him right now, not with everything else going on.

As you slid into your chair, you could feel their eyes on you every now and then, but none of them dared to speak up. It was only when the elevator doors opened that you saw Spencer walking toward the bullpen. His usual awkward stride was missing, replaced by something… hesitant. His eyes briefly met yours, but instead of the usual spark of familiarity, there was something different. Something strained.

He was carrying a large coffee cup in his hand, but it seemed like he was just holding it for the sake of holding it.

“y/n,” he said softly, his voice laced with the same uncertainty that had been present in his eyes. You barely met his gaze, your stomach doing somersaults at the sight of him.

“Spence,” you said, offering a forced smile. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of longing, but you couldn’t let yourself show it.

“I, uh, can we talk?” he asked, his words tumbling out in that way that was so quintessentially Spencer.

Your gaze flickered around the room, but you didn’t want to make a scene. “Now’s not the best time.”

He nodded, but you could see the disappointment in his face. He hesitated for a moment before turning away and heading to his own desk. You didn’t watch him go, how could you?

-

Hours passed, and the tension between you and Spencer lingered like a heavy fog. Every now and then, you caught his eyes lingering on you when he thought you weren’t looking, but every time you met his gaze, he looked away.

You were exhausted. Your mind was scattered. And when you finally gathered the courage to step away from your desk to grab a coffee, it was then that Spencer decided to approach you.

“y/n,” he called out gently, his voice softer now, less urgent.

You paused mid-step, not sure how to respond. His presence was overwhelming, and even though you wanted to retreat, you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding him forever.

Turning around slowly, you nodded. “Spencer.”

“Can we talk?” he asked again, this time with more sincerity in his voice.

You studied him carefully, unsure whether you could trust yourself to keep calm. “Do we really need to? I think we’ve said everything we need to say.”

“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “I don’t think we have. At least not yet.” He paused, looking down at his feet. “Please.”

You could hear the desperation in his voice, and for the first time since that night, you allowed yourself to truly look at him. You didn’t know what had changed, but you knew it was something important. You had loved Spencer for so long, and maybe it was time to let him explain himself.

“Alright,” you finally said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s talk.”

-

The conference room door clicked shut behind you, and for a brief moment, you felt like you were trapped. The silence was thick, oppressive. Spencer stood by the window, facing away from you, his shoulders tense, his hands hanging stiffly at his sides. He didn’t move, didn’t speak. The space between you felt impossibly wide, like an ocean stretching between two distant shores.

You wanted to scream. To demand answers. To ask why. But you couldn’t, because the truth was, you were too scared of what might come next. The flood of emotions coursing through you felt like too much to bear. And the pain? The pain was undying.

Finally, Spencer spoke, but his voice was soft, almost trembling. “I never meant to hurt you,” he said, his words breaking the stillness in the room, but they did little to ease the ache in your chest.

He turned slowly, his eyes dropping to the floor as if he couldn’t bear to look at you. “I’m so sorry. For the way I ended things... for pushing you away.”

His gaze finally met yours, but there was no spark there, no warmth. Just an empty, hollow ache, the same one you felt. The distance between you both was palpable.

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought I was giving you space to breathe… to move on. To get away from the chaos that’s always been a part of my life.”

The words struck you like a punch to the gut. Protecting you? Was that what this was? Did he think he was being noble by choosing to shut you out?

“You pushed me away, Spencer,” you said, your voice trembling with the rawness of everything you were holding in. “I didn’t ask for space. I didn’t ask for you to shut me out. I was here… I've always been here.” The anger, the hurt, it all poured out of you, and you couldn’t stop it even if you tried. “I just needed you to be honest with me. To tell me the truth, not hide behind your fears.”

His face faltered at your words, and for a moment, he looked like he might crumble under the weight of your pain. “I was scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking as if he hadn’t even meant to say it. “I was scared that if I kept you close, I would ruin everything. That I’d hurt you more. I thought if I pulled away, you’d be better off without me. But all I’ve done is hurt you even more.”

The truth of his words hit you like a wave, but it didn’t bring relief. Instead, it left you feeling raw, exposed. How could he think that? How could he think leaving was the solution? You had been through so much together. But the thought of him choosing to walk away, of him choosing her, it crushed you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you, Spencer,” you whispered, the tears you had been holding back threatening to spill over. Your heart was breaking, the weight of everything that had happened too much to carry anymore.

“You didn’t just break my heart… you broke me. I was waiting for you. I thought... I thought we could work through this. But you didn’t give me a chance. And now you’re asking me to just… what? To just forget?”

Spencer’s face crumpled as if your words were a physical blow, but he didn’t look away. He couldn’t. He was broken too, and for the first time, he looked vulnerable, scared even. “I don’t want you to forget,” he said, his voice shaking with emotion.

“I just want a chance. A chance to prove that I’m not that guy anymore. That I’m not the one who left you… that I’m the one who’s ready to fight for us.”

You shook your head, a sob escaping before you could stop it. “I don’t know if I can believe you anymore, Spencer. I don’t know if I can trust you after everything.”

He stepped forward, his hands trembling as they reached out toward you. “Please,” he whispered, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ve spent every second of the last six months thinking about how much I screwed up, wishing I could go back and do things differently. I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you could feel your heart pounding in your chest, erratic, unsure whether it was breaking or yearning for something—anything that might bring you peace. You knew Spencer had made mistakes, but he wasn’t the only one at fault. You had kept yourself at a distance too, not because you wanted to, but because you were terrified of what this might mean. Of what letting him back in might cost you.

“I’m scared, Spencer,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I’m scared that if I let you back in, you’ll leave again. That you’ll hurt me again.”

He closed the distance between you, standing just inches away now. You could see the unshed tears in his eyes, the way his face was etched with guilt and regret. He reached for your hand, but instead of pulling away, you let him. You let him hold you, as fragile as it felt, as broken as you both were in that moment.

“I won’t leave again,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I swear. I’ll fight for you. For us. I’ll fight for as long as it takes.”

The raw honesty in his voice, his words full of pain, of hope. It made something inside you snap. The walls you had built around your heart were crumbling, piece by piece. You didn’t know if you could ever go back to the way things were, but maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for something new. Something better.

“I’m not asking for things to be perfect,” Spencer continued, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand, the small touch making your pulse race. “I just need you to know that I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

You met his gaze then, your eyes brimming with unshed tears, but this time they weren’t just born from hurt. There was something else there. Something like hope. “I’m not ready to forgive you yet, Spencer,” you said softly, your voice trembling. “But I’m willing to try. I’m willing to see where this goes. If you really mean it.”

His face softened, the tension easing just a fraction. “I do,” he whispered, his hand still gently holding yours. “I mean it. More than anything.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, you let yourself hold on, just for a moment. You weren’t sure where this would lead, or if you could ever truly forget the pain. But for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone. And maybe that was enough.

-

It was one of those quiet mornings that felt like a small slice of heaven. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft glow through the windows, and the only sound in the apartment was the rhythmic hum of the coffee maker.

The air was still cool from the night before, but the warmth of the morning sun slowly crept in, filling the room with a gentle golden light.

You were sitting at the kitchen table, your bare feet tucked under you, a mug of coffee warming your hands. Your hair was messy from sleep, but you didn’t mind.

You had gotten used to waking up next to Spencer every morning, and the sight of him, still half-asleep, a little rumpled, and incredibly endearing, was one of the small things you’d grown to cherish.

Spencer was at the counter, his glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he flipped through a pile of paperwork. The clutter of his case files and textbooks was a normal part of your life now, but the way he had rearranged things over the past few months, more neatly than ever before, was a quiet testament to how much he had changed. He wasn’t perfect, but he was working on it. He was trying, and that was all that mattered.

“Y/n?” Spencer’s voice broke the quiet, pulling your attention away from your thoughts.

You looked up from your coffee, meeting his soft brown eyes. He was still wearing his sleep-filled smile, the one that only appeared after a good night’s sleep, when he wasn’t overthinking or buried under a pile of cases.

“I was wondering… would you mind helping me with something later?” His voice was tentative, but there was something else there now, something more confident. He wasn’t afraid to ask for help anymore.

You’d noticed that shift in him over the past few months, the way he wasn’t afraid to lean on you, to let you in when before he would have kept his distance. It had taken time, but now, when he needed you, he knew how to reach for you without hesitation.

“Of course,” you said with a smile, your heart swelling at how far you’d come since that difficult conversation. “What do you need help with?”

Spencer hesitated for just a moment, glancing down at the paperwork. His fingers hovered over the pile, as though unsure how to ask. “I’m working on this case… and I just need to go over the details. I know you’ve got that… special way of seeing things,” he said with a playful grin, using the affectionate nickname you’d earned after countless cases where your instincts had been spot on. “You’re better at spotting the details than I am.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, playfully teasing. “Oh, so now I’m the expert, huh? I thought you were the genius here.”

Spencer’s smile widened, and he shook his head, walking over to the table and taking a seat across from you. He didn’t even try to hide the fondness in his gaze as he looked at you. “You are the expert,” he said softly. “And I’m just the guy who gets to learn from you every day.”

The words lingered between you, warm and comfortable. You reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his hand in a simple, affectionate gesture. A small smile played on your lips as you felt his fingers intertwine with yours, and for the first time, you didn’t feel like you had to hold anything back. There was no fear of losing each other, no worry that the cracks would reopen. Everything—every single piece of you—had found a place next to him, and for once, it felt right.

“I’ll help you,” you said softly, squeezing his hand. “Just like I always do.”

Spencer’s expression softened, his eyes reflecting a quiet sense of gratitude. You knew, deep down, that he wasn’t just thankful for your help with the case. He was thankful for everything—for your patience, for your trust, for the fact that despite all the mistakes and misunderstandings, you were still here. You had come through the storm together, stronger than before, and you could feel it in every touch, in every glance. There was an unspoken understanding between you now. A promise that no matter what came your way, you would face it as a team.

“You know,” Spencer said, his voice low, “I never thought I’d have something like this. Something so... real. So comfortable.”

You laughed softly, the sound light and free, a stark contrast to the uncertainty that had plagued your earlier months together. “I think we’ve finally figured out how to make it work,” you said, your voice steady and full of warmth. “No more pushing each other away. No more running. Just… us.”

Spencer nodded, his gaze softening as his thumb gently traced the back of your hand. “I’m not running anymore,” he whispered, the sincerity in his voice bringing a warmth to your chest. “I’m staying. For good.”

There was no need for more words. You leaned across the table, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slow and full of meaning. It wasn’t a kiss filled with urgency or desperation, but one of quiet comfort. One of trust and affection. One that said we’re here, and that was enough.

As you pulled away, you saw the same sense of contentment reflected in his eyes, a peacefulness that had taken months to build but was finally here. You didn’t need anything else, because with Spencer, you had everything you’d ever wanted.

The coffee and case files were long forgotten as the two of you sat there, simply enjoying each other’s company. There was no rush to get to the day, no lingering doubt or fear. Just the warmth of his presence beside you, and the certainty that no matter what the future held, you’d face it together.

all notes and reposts are appreciated!! loving you always xx

divider: @fairytopea

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[lovedrruunk]

'Forget her

In which you get played by your situationship. Jinx thinks you deserve better anyway. (drabble!!!)

You sat on the couch in Jinx’s hideout staring blankly at the sky, your fingers tracing over the ripped leather of the furniture. The bitter pit in your stomach hadn’t left since you heard it. Those carefully chosen words that meant everything and nothing at the same time, but you weren’t even sure why you were surprised. It wasn’t like you hadn’t known deep down that things wouldn’t work out with her.

But it still stung.

The situation had been complicated from the start. No labels, no promises, just two people who occasionally crossed the line into something that felt almost like more. You thought it was heading somewhere, but apparently she didn’t. And today, with a few short sentences, she made that clear.

“I’m not looking for anything serious.”

Classic.

You clenched your jaw, sinking back into the cushions. The room felt heavy and you hated that you’d let yourself get invested. You weren’t even sure why you had told Jinx you’d come over. You didn’t want to be a downer, but the idea of sitting alone with your thoughts had been worse. So now you were just sitting here, feeling like a total idiot for ever thinking she was serious about you.

“Ya know, if you keep sulking like that I might start thinking you forgot I exist,” Jinx’s voice cut through your mental spiral, drawing your eyes towards her. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed looking at you with a raised brow. “Not a good look for you by the way.”

You snorted, rubbing a hand over your face. “Yeah, well, it’s been a day.”

Jinx pushed off the door, walking over to flop down next to you on the couch. “A ‘day,’ huh?" One look at your face and she already knew. "Lemme guess. Her?”

You hesitated, not really wanting to dive into the whole mess, but the look she gave you made it clear she wasn’t about to let this go, she never does. Wasn't necessarily a bad thing you figured, you liked that about her. “Yeah… her. She finally dropped the ‘let’s keep things casual’ bomb. As if I didn’t already know that’s where it was going.”

Jinx let out a long whistle, pretending to look thoughtful. “Wow, shocking. Who could’ve ever seen that coming? Definitely not me, noooo,” she said with obvious sarcasm.

You shot her a look. “I know, okay? I knew it wasn’t serious, I just… I don’t know, I guess I hoped maybe it’d turn into something more.” The bitterness in your voice was hard to hide, even if you were trying to downplay how much it bothered you.

Jinx didn’t say anything right away, but you could feel her watching you, her usual smirk faltering a bit. “Look, I’m not saying I hate the girl—”

You raised an eyebrow. “You definitely hate her.”

“—I’m not saying I hate her,” she repeated, this time with a little more emphasis. “But, y’know, she’s kind of… what’s the word?" She tapped her chin pretending to be in thought. "Trash.”

“Jinx.”

“What? I said I don’t hate her!” She threw up her hands, giving you an exaggerated innocent look before settling back against the couch, her tone becoming more serious. “But... seriously. You deserve better. You know that, right?”

You huffed, sinking further into the cushions. “Yeah, well, better isn’t exactly lining up around the block.”

Jinx’s brows furrowed, her lips twisting in that way she did when she was trying to keep something secret. “If it were me…” she started, then hesitated, glancing away like she was debating whether or not to continue.

You sat up a little, noticing the shift in her tone.

She cleared her throat, her voice a little quieter. “I’m just saying… If it were me, I wouldn’t make you guess all the time. You wouldn’t have to wonder where we stood, y’know? ‘Cause I’d make it pretty darn obvious.” She said with a light chuckle, her eyes glued to the floor.

You blinked, caught off guard by the shift in Jinx's tone. Her usual bravado had faded, leaving something raw in its place. You sat up a little straighter, turning to face her. “What are you saying?”

Her eyes flicked up to meet yours, and there was no teasing in them now. Just something deep, something real. She hesitated for a moment, like she was debating whether to push it further. And then she did.

“I’m saying…” She leaned in slowly, her voice barely a whisper “...I wouldn’t waste your time.”

You froze as she closed the distance between you, her hand brushing the back of your neck. For a second, neither of you moved. Her thumb grazed the skin just below your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

And then, before you could even process it, her lips were on yours.

The kiss was soft at first, tentative, like she was waiting for you to pull away. When you didn’t, she deepened it, her fingers threading through your hair, pulling you closer. Her lips were warm, and the way she kissed you made it clear, this wasn’t some spur-of-the-moment thing. She had thought about this. Wanted this.

After the initial shock you kissed her back, your hands finding their way to her shoulders, pulling her closer. The frustration and hurt that had been swirling in your chest moments ago melted away, replaced by a new kind of warmth.

Finally pulling away you stared at her breathless, heart still racing trying to process what just happened.

She pulled back slightly, still grinning but this time it was softer, less playful. “What?” she asked, her voice lighter, teasing. “Not what you expected?”

You let out a small laugh, looking away feeling your face get hot. “Not exactly.”

“Well, I like surprising you.” She leaned in again, her lips ghosting over yours, but this time, she didn’t kiss you, just hovered close enough that you could feel her smirk widen. “So, you wanna sit here and keep sulking?...

Or do you wanna graffiti the bitch’s house?”

. . .

;p !!! this was super fast paced and unrealistic but its just practice! plus my first one shot in months! and tbf in what realistic world would jinx be in a relationship anyway lol... hope u liked!

[lordprettyflackotara]

noise || the bloody painter || maid!reader || 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝓵𝔂pasta au ||

SMUT MINORS DNI 18+. tw: hella exhibitionism

You thought over your numerous sexual encounters with the members of the Slenderman mansion. You recalled the roughness, the various positions. You catered to their every need. As you sat awkwardly in the center of an art room, a frail white sheet covering your exposed body, you couldn’t help but remember it all. You had been instructed by a man with bright yellow eyes that floated to sit on the stool and wait. You didn’t bother glancing at him twice, you were sure you’d become well acquainted with him after your interaction with Helen. Apparently, Helen was an artist according to the endless art supplies that sat around the room. They were all labeled and arranged neatly, not a single paint brush out of place. You had been blindfolded up until this point, the rest of the Trenderman mansion being hidden from you.

The cover up of you being a maid was stripped away from the moment you stepped into this mansion, considering the mansion smelled like cleaning supplies. The rays of sunshine came through the open windows, a breeze causing your nipples to perk up. You had been informed by Jeff it was Helen’s birthday and that you were the gift from the Slenderman mansion.

So you sat on the stool patiently, wrapped like a birthday present in all its glory.

The door opened slowly, a clean cut man presenting himself before you. He shut the door behind him, locking the old fashioned door with a key. His crisp blue eyes landed on you, examining you. “I must say you’re a sight for sore eyes. I’m a bit envious that Trender didn’t find you first,” He admitted. He walked up to you slowly, his loafers clicking against the floor with every stride. “I’m Helen. I’ve been told by Jeffrey you’re my birthday present,” He said. Helen then stood before you, grabbing your chin with his gloved hand. His gloves were a borderline silk material and a pearly white, the material gentle against your skin. “I suppose I am,” You agreed. He tilted your head to the side, noting the faint hickies that stained your neck. “I see you get around,” Helen commented. If you weren’t aware he was a cold blooded killer, you would’ve rolled your eyes.

“Thats one way to put it,” You replied. Helen was truly studying you, soaking in every inch of your body he could see. “I must say Jeffrey spoiled me this year. You are quite the work of art,” He complimented. Helen guided your head to the other side, his eyes narrowing at the sight of finger shaped bruises wrapped around your throat. “I’ll tell you what. You seem to have quite a bit of fun. I won’t keep you. I’d rather have you kept on a canvas forever,” He concluded. The name ‘Bloody Painter’ was running through your head. Your face must’ve gone pale, a chuckle escaping Helen’s lips. “Relax my dear, all I want to do is watch and paint a portrait of you for my private viewing,” He said, releasing your chin. He could see your perky nipples poking through the sheet. Truthfully Helen was aching to touch you, but he did not believe he deserved the privilege of doing so. However, you putting on a show for him was the next best thing he could ask for.

“Take the sheet off for me and spread your legs darling,” Helen ordered. Although his tone was kind, his words sent an ominous chill down your spine. He may have presented himself as friendly and gentleman like, but you knew he lived here for a reason. You were a lot of things, but naive is not one of them. You allowed the sheet to fall to the ground, leaving you completely exposed in the sunlight. You spread your thighs, the man before you silently craving to fall to his knees and crawl towards you like a stray dog. Instead he straightened out his suit, walking over to his canvas. “Wonderful. Now i’ll give you specific instructions. If you follow them this transaction will be quite easy,” He said. He picked up a paint brush, dabbing it in a fresh cup of water to dampen the bristles. “Start touching yourself like you usually would,” Helen told you. You felt your face flush red. This was quite different than anything else you had done. Usually the men were apart of the action, but not Helen.

He wanted to memorize you. He watched as you licked the pad of your index and middle fingers, before bringing it down to your clit. Helen would’ve assumed it would be hard for you to become aroused, not having any source of pornography or physical touch. Yet you seemed as wet as a river, your cunt glistening in the sunlight. All from his observation. He began to paint you slightly, a choked groan escaping your throat as you swirled your clit. “Doesn’t this kinda ruin the painting?” You asked. Helen chuckled, painting your plump thighs first. “Quite the opposite. Your ethereal features deserve to be deserve to be praised again and again. What’s a better way to do so?” He countered. You whimpered at his words. His praise and will to let you have freedom, to control your orgasm. It was liberating. You began to draw faster circles around your clit, watching his eyebrows furrow as he painted your thigh crease. “Be a lamb and finger yourself for me,” He said mindlessly, as if he was commenting on the weather. You leaned back on one hand, the other dipping down between your folds and sliding into your entrance. You curled your fingers inside of you, your gummy walls clinging to your own digits.

You let out a moan, your eyes threatening to flutter shut. “Nuh uh, look at me. Need to paint your eyes darling,” Helen ordered calmly, rinsing his paintbrush in the glass jar full of water. You whimpered as you maintained eye contact with his icy blue gaze. You tried to reach further into yourself to hit your g spot, your smaller fingers failing to do so. “Not deep enough,” You admitted, biting your bottom lip as he curiously peered over his canvas at you. “Not deep enough?” Helen repeated. You nodded, your fingers just grazing right before your g spot. Helen hummed to himself, before strolling over to one of his art shelves. He grabbed a paint brush with a thicker handle, walking back over to you. “Try this,” He suggested. His cock was aching against his black slacks, your doe eyes looking up at him. “W-what? But I don’t know where that’s been,” You say meekly. Helen grinned, handing it to you. “Everything in here is clean and pristine. I prepared for your arrival. Jeffrey spared me no details of his interaction with you. You can handle this. After all, it’s my birthday,” Helen mused. You took the paint brush, the dark green handle looking back at you. Helen whisked himself away back to his canvas, resuming what he was doing.

You removed your fingers, slowly lining the end of the paintbrush handle with your entrance. It felt cool and unusual, the sight making Helen’s pupils expand. “Thats it. You know what to do,” Helen grinned, flicking his wrist as he painted on his canvas. Your walls clung around the paintbrush handle, the handle just thick enough to feel satisfying. You groaned as it brushed against your g spot, your face burning from embarrassment. Helen didn’t understand your embarrassment, but he did soak in the red tint of your cheeks and begin to paint it onto the canvas. “Make as much noise as you’d like, the residents here have been expecting your arrival,” He cooed. You began to fuck the paint brush into you, your other hand gripping the wooden stool. You were so desperate to cum, it felt like you had been edging yourself for an eternity now, all for a painters amusement. “You can fuck yourself harder dear. You have no idea how badly I want to hear you cum for me,” Helen told you. You bit your bottom lip, fucking yourself faster. You could feel the knot inside of your stomach tighten, your body hooked on the feeling.

“Such a beautiful piece of art,” Helen mumbled to himself. His cock was straining against his slacks, dying for attention. He knew he shouldn’t touch you, but it becoming increasingly harder as your eyebrows scrunched together from your pending orgasm. You tilted your head back, sputtering a moan as you came around the paint brush. Admittedly you felt humiliated, but the wave of euphoria overrode the embarrassment. Helen was a gentleman if nothing else, allowing you to catch your breath before striding over to you. “Please get on your knees and stick out your tongue,” He ordered. Shakily you tossed the paint brush aside, gathering to your knees. The polished wooden floor was rough against your bare knees, but you were silently glad it didn’t prick at your skin and threaten to leave splinters. Helen began undoing his belt, the sight mouth watering. “Good dear, now just sit there and look pretty. You don’t have to do a thing,” He purred. You watched as he took out his cock, a little bead of precum decorating his tip. You went to touch it, Helen pushing your hand away. “Nuh uh. Stay still. Flatten out that tongue of yours,” He ordered firmly.

Obediently you set your hands on your knees, staring up at Helen. He took off his gloves with his teeth, tossing them aside before stroking his cock. He began to jack off in front of you, small grunts escaping his lips as he peered down at you. You were such a beautiful specimen, he couldn’t help but envy that Slenderman had found you first. In a different universe he was sure your body would’ve been used for far better, including becoming one of his works of art. Surely, he could make that happen in this one, right? All he needed to do was let go. You were dying to suck his cock, your wetness ever growing as he jacked off before you. He could feel himself growing closer to the edge. “When I release, you need to stay absolutely still, understand?” He questioned. You nodded, your tongue still flattened. Helen released with a groan, his seed releasing and splattering across your lips, tongue, and both cheeks. He peered down at you with his blue eyes, admiring his work. You truly were a masterpiece and perhaps the best birthday gift he had ever received.

[steddieas-shegoes]

a stranger's advice

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event 'Good Fortune'

using prompt 7: a single kind word can keep one warm for years + mouth + 48, 13, 46, 27, 31, 18

rated m | 1408 words | cw: implied sexual content kinda | tags: modern au, different first meeting, flirting, eventual famous corroded coffin, eventual rock star eddie munson, sound mixer steve harrington, strangers to lovers

🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️🎚️

Eddie’s giving up.

They’ve done all they can do.

Jeff’s dad is threatening to cut him off entirely if he doesn’t go to college and Gareth’s mom calls him crying twice a week, worried he’s gonna end up homeless or in rehab. Gareth’s never touched a drug or more than a single beer in his life and works harder than any of them, but he’s tired of telling her that. Frankie doesn’t have the same passion they have; He’s just there as the guy who answered an ad for a bassist.

No record label wants them, most larger venues don’t want to pay what it would cost for them to get there, and the smaller venues are getting less crowded as more people flock to arenas and stadiums to see big name bands. They aren’t as good as they thought they were and Eddie has to accept that.

He’s feeling sorry for himself in the hallway of this record company first, though.

The other guys already shook hands with everyone, patted Eddie on the shoulder, and left. He’s alone now, and he’ll be alone for the rest of his life.

“Waiting for a ride?” A man asks from in front of him.

Eddie looks up and sees someone he vaguely recognizes as the assistant who sat in on their unsuccessful meeting 18 whole minutes ago. He’s stunning in the way that someone way outside of Eddie’s league usually is, but damn if he doesn’t get stuck looking anyways.

The man raises a brow and crosses his arms.

“Uh, no. Sorry. I have one. Just needed a minute.”

The man nods and then uncrosses his arms, sighing.

“You want some advice?”

“Not sure if it’ll do me any good. My band’s done. I’m nothing without them,” Eddie lets himself sound as pitiful as he feels.

“A 13 track demo is too much. Most places aren’t listening to more than five songs at all, and that’s only if they’re impressed by the first two. You guys sound great, and clearly have passion, but it’s not heard by the people who need to hear it,” the man says despite Eddie’s warning.

Eddie is a bit distracted by the way his mouth forms words, like he’s trying to hide an accent. This is LA. A lot of transplants from the south and Midwest don’t like people to know.

“And you know this as the assistant?” Eddie asks and wishes he didn’t.

“I’m the sound mixer. The assistant is out and they asked me to fill in. But I’ve seen how this goes enough to see that you guys have everything right except the part you need,” he gives a small smile. “Cut down the tracks and you’ll be set. You’ve got an amazing voice. Don’t give up yet.”

The man walks away before Eddie can say thank you or ask any follow up questions like ‘do you want to come home with me?’ or ‘does your hair naturally swoop like that or is there product doing the job?’

Eddie decides to head out, waits nearly 31 minutes for an Uber, which is ridiculous when he’s staying in a hotel less than 10 minutes from the building. The guys are at the hotel bar when he arrives, sipping on sodas instead of mixed drinks like they deserve.

“Give me one more shot,” he begs.

They look at each other. They look back at him.

“One more,” Jeff agrees as they all nod.

~~~~~

“Can’t believe there’s 46,000 people here!” Eddie yells as he’s running off the stage.

There aren’t exactly 46,000 people watching them; That number is closer to 27,000. But there are 46,000 tickets sold for this particular event, which means that 46,000 people have seen Corroded Coffin’s name on a ticket stub or event guide. It’s more than he ever expected to know about them.

He’s so excited about the set they just played, he nearly runs right into a guy in nice jeans and a sweater. It’s too fucking hot for a sweater.

The guy grabs Eddie’s arms to steady both of them and Eddie looks up and his jaw drops.

“Holy shit, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” the man replies, smirking at Eddie’s surprise. “Had to see what our label missed out on in person.”

The other guys are rushing past him, probably to get to the green room for drinks and snacks. They never eat before a show, and when they’re done, they’re ravenous.

The man hasn’t let him go yet. He could. Eddie’s balance is fine, his initial adrenaline is crawling to a normal level, and he isn’t gonna suddenly run into anyone else.

“Your advice worked,” Eddie says.

The man nods, knowing smile on his face. “I’m glad you listened to me.”

“It wasn’t just your advice though,” Eddie admits. “I mean, it definitely helped! But you actually saw talent. We were feeling kinda down about how good we were and you made me realize that it’s probably not our talent that’s the problem. We’re good. We’ve been good. We just didn’t know how to show that to the right people.”

“There’s 48 bands here this weekend, you know?” The man asks, as if that’s a normal response to anything Eddie just said.

“Um, yeah. I know.”

“We represent 47 of them.”

Eddie’s brows practically leave his forehead. “But…”

“I insisted they get you guys on the lineup when I saw the options available. And I couldn’t pass up another opportunity to talk to you.”

Eddie feels like he might pass out, which could definitely be from dehydration or overheating, but could also be the very hot man in front of him kind of flirting with him?

“Sorry, I think I’m having a stroke. I don’t even remember your name. You’ve just been Hot Man in my head for four years,” Eddie manages to get out, feeling his cheeks heat up at the embarrassment of his outburst.

Hot Man laughs, throws his head back and everything, like this is the funniest thing he’s ever heard.

“Steve. I’m Steve,” he says when he’s calmed down.

“Steve.” Eddie likes the way his name sounds coming from his own lips. “I’m Eddie.”

“I know,” he laughs again, quieter, more fondness sneaking in.

“Well, Steve, would you like to join me for a drink in the green room? I hear the lead singer of Corroded Coffin requested only the finest PBR,” Eddie gestures towards the steps leading off the stage. “Or perhaps you’d enjoy a vodka soda.”

“I’d love to,” Steve giggles. Eddie feels like he’s won something. “But I am technically working for a few more hours.”

“Oh,” Eddie swallows around the disappointment. “Right. Okay.”

“But I’m staying at the Marriott down the road. If you wanted to meet for dinner later?”

“Yeah, absolutely. Definitely. For sure.” Eddie groans at his awkward excitement, but Steve is giggling again. Hearing a hot man giggle like this just does something to his brain.

“Great. Here’s my number. Text me so I have yours,” Steve hands over a business card and Eddie ignores his dick twitching in his too-tight pants. “See you tonight.”

Eddie’s mouth feels dry as he nods.

Steve is already gone when he finally thinks of something to say, so he groans and makes his way to the green room, where the guys are all spread out across the couches placed haphazardly around.

“Where’d you go?” Gareth asks him before he takes a sip of his water. He’s still a one and done drinker and Eddie loves him for it.

“Got a date,” Eddie shrugs like it’s no big deal.

“A date?!” Frankie asks, nearly spilling his beer.

“Don’t act so surprised, man. I date!”

“You haven’t ‘dated’ anyone since high school.”

“Haven’t felt like I needed to. I was busy getting us famous,” Eddie smirks, finds a beer in the fridge, and settles on a chair. “It might just be one date anyway. He’s probably a busy guy and I’m not sure I’m really his type.”

“Yeah, right. If he’s here, you’re his type,” Jeff laughs.

Everyone moves on quickly, which is a blessing for Eddie because he gets lost in thoughts about Steve pretty much immediately.

In the years they spent trying to make it, only one person ever gave him helpful advice. Only one person spoke of his talent and made him feel like they could still make it.

And now he had a date with him.

[theemporium]

SAW THE OCTOBER PROMPTS AND KNEW I HAD TO SUBMIT ONE IN

could i do 💰 with my fav boyfriend max verstappen who has just slowly creating a list of everything reader has looked at a little too long or talked about for a couple of minutes. It ranges from tiffany jewelry to chanel dresses to la perla lingerie to gucci perfume to louboutin red bottoms, he knows everything that the reader wants and just one day surprises reader with everything

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

.

“What…the…fuck.”

Max stood in the middle of your living room—your once empty living room that was now flooded with boxes and bags everywhere you looked—with his hands on his hips and a proud look on his face. And he looked completely unashamed with the scene around him.

“Surprise!” He said it so simply like he had just placed a home cooked meal in front of you, or maybe ran a few errands for you that he knew were a hassle. He was acting like the designer brand labels littering the living room of your apartment were normal, like an everyday occurrence. Though, maybe for Max Verstappen, they were.

“You…what….huh?” You looked at him, confused and baffled and desperate for answers. “What is all this?”

“It’s for you,” he said as he picked up a random bag nearby and handed it towards you, the Chanel logo making you feel a little nauseous. “Though I think people usually call them gifts.”

“This is too much,” you breathed out, your head spinning at the idea of just how much he could have possibly spent on you. At the mere idea of how much money was technically sitting in your far-too-small living room. “This is way too much, Max. I can’t.”

His brows furrowed together. “Why not?”

Your eyes widened. “Is that really a question you’re asking?” 

“But it’s all stuff you want,” he pointed out to you. 

“You can’t possibly—” Except the boy cut you off as he reached into the Chanel bag he was still holding, taking out a shoe box. And before you could even say anything, he was opening it to show you a pair of black platform heels you remembered vaguely showing him a few weeks back. “Max.”

“You said you wanted them.” 

“I said I liked the look of them.”

“Same thing.”

It seemed like every possible object or item you had spent longer than three seconds staring at were currently sitting in your living room at that moment, and Max didn’t see an issue with it. And you knew you shouldn’t be mad at him. Even before everything changed between you and Max, you had made the deal to be the person he splurged on. You agreed to it. You accepted the terms.

But you thought things would change once your relationship changed, when it went from financially beneficial to an actual romance. You thought he knew he didn’t need to do any of this anymore.

“Max,” you started as you tried to step over a pile of boxes, your foot getting caught in the handle of a bag. But before you could stumble, he was reaching out to grab your arms. “Babe, you don’t have to do this.”

“You are making it seem like someone is making me do it against my will,” Max mused, a hint of amusement on his face as his arms wound around your waist.

“I’m your girlfriend, you don’t have to spend money on me like this,” you said to him, your hands interlocking behind his head. 

“It’s exactly why I should,” Max scoffed. “You’re my girl. Mine to take care of and spoil and keep happy.” 

“Max—”

“Stop saying my name like that, you sound like a school teacher scolding me,” he groaned as he rested his head against your shoulder. Though, something in his chest tightened when he heard you laugh. 

“It’s just a lot,” you admitted in a whisper. 

“It’s everything you deserve and everything I want to give you,” Max retorted before he slowly lifted his head, his nose brushing against yours. “I’ll calm down but don’t make me give any of it back.”

You sighed, smiling. “Fine.”

“Good, because I don’t know where the receipts are and I’m pretty sure half of it wouldn’t even fit in my car.” 

His grin widened as your laugh bounced off the walls of your far-too-small living room.

.

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART SEVEN ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 6.8k

A/N: Here's a cute little fun fluffy chapter for the holiday's, I couldn't do any angsty with Christmas spirit around 😭. Please let me know what you think and if you have any ideas of where you'd like to see things go. I'm not sure how much longer it'll be because I don't know if I have anymore routes to explore for them in this one.

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

New Years Eve 

It was currently New Year’s Eve, and Azzi sat at the vanity in Caroline’s room applying her makeup. The soft glow of the mirror lights highlighted her steady hand as she blended the edges of her liner with ease. Behind her, Caroline shuffled around, pulling clothes from her closet as she got dressed.

The tension in the room was a little thick, but it definitely wasn’t from Azzi’s end and she barely acknowledged it. Caroline had brought this up before, and Azzi wasn’t particularly interested in having the same conversation again.

"You know," Caroline started, her tone slightly sharp, "this whole thing with you and Paige is starting to get... noticeable."

Azzi hummed noncommittally, her focus fixed on the mirror as she added a final touch of mascara. "Noticed that, did you?" she said lightly, not bothering to turn around.

Caroline huffed, pulling a shirt over her head. "I’m serious, Azzi. Since your date, you two have been practically inseparable, and yet—" She waved her hand vaguely. "Still no label. So what…you guys are just friends with benefits now?”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head without pausing her work. "No, Car," she said easily, "we’re not."

"Then what are you?" Caroline pressed, her tone sharper than before.

Azzi’s hand stilled briefly as she traced the edge of her eyeliner, then resumed as she answered smoothly, "We’re us."

Caroline groaned, turning to lean against the edge of the vanity. "That’s not a title, Azzi. It’s not enough."

Azzi paused, her hand hovering mid-air as she paused applying her makeup. She turned slightly to glance at Caroline, her lips a faint smirk. "And that bothers you…why exactly?" she asked, her tone light but with an unmistakable edge.

Caroline rolled her eyes, undeterred. "I just don’t want you settling for something undefined because it feels good right now," she said, her tone more frustrated than before. "I know Paige. She’s not committing because she can’t. That’s just how she is."

Azzi’s jaw tightened, the irritation finally breaking through her calm demeanor at Caroline mentioning Paige. "Well, good thing I know Paige better than you do, Caroline," she shot back, her voice low but firm.

Caroline straightened, a spark of frustration flaring in her expression. "Do you? Because from where I’m standing, it looks like she’s just dragging you along while she figures herself out."

Azzi set her brush down with a little more force than necessary, her patience clearly wearing thin. "She’s not dragging me along," she said matter of factly. "You’ve brought this up like, what? Three times now? I keep telling you we’re fine and that I’m more than fine."

Caroline raised an eyebrow. "Are you? Because I remember the first time you argued, she immediately started sleeping around to 'cope.' That didn’t exactly scream 'fine Azzi.'"

Azzi turned to face Caroline fully, her voice cooler now. "You know that was different. We were in a different situation then and you trying to throw it in my face is fucked up."

"How?" Caroline challenged, stepping closer. "What makes it different now?"

Azzi let out a short, exasperated breath, her fingers gripping the edge of the vanity. "Because we hadn’t discussed anything. We didn’t know where the other one stood and we do now. 

Caroline’s expression softened for a moment.  Azzi," she said, stepping closer, "you still deserve better than just sleeping around."

Azzi’s smile faltered, her grip tightening slightly on the makeup brush in her hand, exhaling as she turned fully to face Caroline. "Excuse me?" she asked, her voice sharp now. "Caroline, do you even have any idea what Paige does for me? I’ll answer that for you actually. No, you don’t. So please stop."

Caroline opened her mouth to reply, but Azzi didn’t give her the chance. "She’s so much better than everyone thinks and it kind of sucks that you’re our teammate and don’t see it. She checks in on me constantly, even when she’s buried with her own pressure and stress. She’s Paige fucking Bueckers but she treats me like I’m the biggest star on earth. She looks at me like I put the stars in the sky. She makes sure I eat, that I take care of myself, that I don’t push myself too hard because she knows how I get. She surprises me with stupid little things she knows will make me smile even if it makes no sense to her. She knows exactly how to calm me down when I’m spiraling, she got me this damn necklace when we weren’t even speaking Caroline." Azzi’s voice softened slightly, but her conviction remained. “She’s so thoughtful and present. She treats me like I matter to her more than anything."

Azzi continues, shaking her head at the acquisition of deserving ‘better.’ "A title doesn’t affect how she treats me, Car. I promise you, I wouldn’t be with someone who only wanted me for sex if that’s what you're thinking."

Caroline hesitated, but Azzi wasn’t finished. She leaned back against the vanity, crossing her arms with a smile as she settled down. "It just so happens that it’s amazing," she said, her voice dropping into a teasing tone hoping this will end Caroline’s inquiry, "so we do it…often."

Caroline groaned, rolling her eyes and muttering under her breath as she turned away to grab her shoes. "That’s not the point," she grumbled.

Azzi let out a short laugh, returning her attention to the mirror. "You’re right," she said lightly, "it’s not. Because the point is, we’re fine. More than fine."

"But you’re still not official," Caroline pressed, her voice edging toward frustration again.

Azzi shrugged, her tone cool. "A title really doesn’t change anything so please just drop it. It’ll happen naturally.” 

Caroline sighed, her expression shifting to one of genuine concern. "I just don’t want you to get hurt, Azzi," she said softly, sitting on the edge of the bed now.

Azzi finished applying her lip gloss, capping the tube before standing and turning to face Caroline. "And I thank you for that, Car," she said, her voice calm but firm. "But really—we’re great. So please, stop worrying about it."

Caroline gave her a long, searching look before finally nodding, though her concern hadn’t entirely dissipated. "Just don’t say I didn’t warn you," she murmured as she stood to finish getting dressed.

Azzi rolled her eyes slightly, grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair. "Duly noted," she said dryly as she moved toward the door.

Caroline watched her go, her lips pressed into a thin line. "Just at least think about what I said, Azzi it’s important to have clear expectations," she called after her.

Azzi didn’t respond, instead stepping into the hallway and shutting the door behind her. She walked toward the common area, where Paige was lounging on the couch, scrolling absentmindedly on her phone. As Azzi approached, a goofy smile immediately spread across Paige’s face, her eyes lighting up.

Paige sat up straighter, her gaze sweeping over Azzi from head to toe. She licked her lips, standing as Azzi drew closer. "You look amazing," Paige said, her voice low and sincere.

Azzi smiled, her dimples showing, leaning in to give Paige a quick kiss. As she pulled back, she adjusted Paige’s collar playfully, smoothing it down. "Have I ever told you how much I love you in all black?"

Paige smirked, her eyes twinkling. "Yeah a few times," she teased.

For a moment, they simply stood there, soft smiles on their faces as they gazed at each other. The quiet moment between them felt private as the rest of the world faded away.

Paige eventually tilted her head toward the door Azzi had just come from. "You two good?" she asked, her voice casual but laced with curiosity. "You looked a little upset coming out."

Azzi glanced back briefly, then shrugged as she turned her attention back to Paige. "Yeah, we’ll be fine. She’s just being Caroline."

Paige hummed softly, her brows knitting together for a moment, but she didn’t press further knowing Azzi would’ve told her if she wanted her to know. Instead, she stepped aside, gesturing for Azzi to sit with her as she sat back down. Azzi flopped onto the couch, stretching out and draping her legs across Paige’s lap. Paige instinctively rested her hand on Azzi’s knee, her thumb brushing lightly over the fabric as they waited for the others to finish getting ready.

The quiet murmur of their conversation was soon interrupted by the loud arrival of Ice, KK, and Aubrey, who burst into the suite with their usual energy.

KK and Ice immediately broke into exaggerated cheers, clapping their hands and whooping loudly. "Look at ‘Mom’ and ‘Dad,’ holding it down on the couch!" KK teased, grinning as she made her way over.

Ice joined in, pointing dramatically at Paige and Azzi. "Such a cute family moment! We love to see it!"

Paige groaned, rolling her eyes but unable to hide her amused smile. "You two are the worst," she said as Ice plopped down on one side of her and KK wedged herself onto the other, forcing Azzi’s legs off Paige’s lap in the process.

Azzi huffed in protest, crossing her arms as she scooted to the edge of the couch. "Do you mind?" she asked, her tone half-serious, though the corner of her mouth twitched with a smile.

"Nope, not at all!" KK said cheerfully, leaning back and putting her feet up on the coffee table.

"So," KK continued, glancing around the room, "who are we waiting on?"

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get a word out, Caroline stepped out of her room, adjusting her earrings. "I’m ready," she announced, her tone brisk as she glanced at the group.

"Finally," Ice quipped, standing up and stretching dramatically. "I was starting to think we’d never leave."

Caroline shot her a look but didn’t respond, instead grabbing her jacket and heading toward the door.

The group followed, making their way downstairs to where the rest of the team was already gathered. The energy was lively, with everyone chatting and laughing as they debated who would ride in which car.

…

By the time the team arrived at Ted’s, the place was already alive with the buzz of other UConn students. Laughter and music spilled out of the bar onto the sidewalk, and the energy was contagious. Inside, the familiar space was packed, but the team’s usual table in the corner remained empty—most likely thanks to the bartender, who always seemed to have them in mind.

As they walked in, the group naturally began to disperse. Ice, Aubrey, Ines, and Ashlynn peeled off first, making a beeline toward a group of familiar faces by the jukebox. KK, Caroline, and Aaliyah veered toward the table, where they could set up shop and claim their space. While everyone else including Paige and Azzi wove through the crowd toward the bar. 

“You drinking?” Paige asked, glancing at Azzi who nodded.

“Definitely,” Azzi said. “I need something to get through another night of Ice’s awful karaoke if it happens.”

Paige laughed, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s happening. She’s been hyping herself up for it all day. I heard her warming up in the bathroom this morning.” 

As they reached the bar, Paige leaned casually against the counter, immediately going into a story about something random that had happened at practice earlier in the week with her group. Azzi chuckled, listening with a fond smile as Paige animatedly recounted every detail, as if Azzi wasn’t there. 

“I’m just saying, who even thinks to do a behind-the-back pass in a half-court drill? It’s wild, right?” Paige said, her voice rising slightly over the noise of the bar.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching in amusement. “I mean, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Barely!” Paige shot back, gesturing emphatically. “KK almost lost it in the bleachers. But you should’ve seen her face—she acted like she just pulled off the play of the year.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “Sounds about right for KK.”

As Paige continued, her voice full of excitement, Azzi found herself leaning closer, her eyes fixed on Paige’s face. It wasn’t the story that captivated her—it was the way Paige told it, her energy so infectious that it made Azzi forget the rest of the room entirely.

“...and then Geno was just standing there, looking at her like, ‘You done?’” Paige finished, snorting as she imitated his deadpan expression.

Azzi chuckled, shaking her head as the bartender approached. She ordered their drinks quickly, her attention still on Paige.

“You know,” Azzi said once the bartender moved off to make their drinks, “you have a way of making even the most random stuff sound important.”

Paige grinned, leaning against the bar. “That’s because it is important. You just don’t appreciate the art of storytelling.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, her smile softening. “Right. That’s totally it.”

Before Paige could respond, their drinks were placed in front of them. Azzi handed Paige hers, brushing her fingers against Paige’s briefly.

“Thanks,” Paige said, her grin never fading. “And for the record, I know you appreciate it. You just won’t admit it.”

Azzi smirked, picking up her drink. “Maybe I do,” she said, her tone teasing. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Paige just laughed, taking a sip of her drink as they turned to head back toward their table. 

…

The team had been at Ted’s for about an hour waiting for midnight, passing the time with a round of god-awful karaoke, just as Azzi had dreaded. Laughter filled the bar as they cheered for each other, the air filled with the light buzz of alcohol and their natural competitive energy. Ice was up next unfortunately.

Azzi, Paige, and the rest of the team were seated around the long table, some with drinks in hand, others snacking on appetizers. The table was alive with conversation, laughter, and the occasional groan as another off-key rendition of “I Will Survive” from Ice echoed across the bar.

“Okay, this is torture,” Azzi said, rolling her eyes playfully as Ice launched into her second verse.

“I think she actually sounds worse than she did this morning in the shower if that’s possible” Paige joked. 

Azzi smirked and turned her attention back to the room, her eyes scanning the crowd for anything that might interest her—or at least distract her from the chaos of karaoke. But as her gaze wandered, it landed on someone she hadn’t expected to see: the girl who always seemed to make an appearance at the most inconvenient times. What the hell even was her name? 

Her jaw tightened slightly, the easygoing smirk fading for a fraction of a second.

Paige, always attuned to Azzi’s shifts, noticed immediately. She followed Azzi’s eyeline and spotted the girl across the room who currently seemed blissfully unaware of them, laughing with a group of friends at the bar. Still, Paige recognized the subtle shift in Azzi’s posture, 

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice low enough to be lost in the noise of the bar but perfectly clear to Azzi. She lightly touched Azzi’s wrist, bringing her focus back. “You good?”

Azzi blinked, her features relaxing as she looked back at Paige. “Yeah,” she said, her voice calm but not entirely convincing. “I’m fine. Just… caught off guard, that’s all.”

Paige studied her for a moment, her lips pressing together in thought. Then, with a quiet confidence, she set her drink down on the table and reached out, gently pulling Azzi towards her by her waist.

“Don’t worry about her,” Paige said, her voice laced with reassurance. She positioned Azzi between her legs as she sat on the barstool, her hands resting lightly on Azzi’s hips. “You got better things to focus on pretty girl.”

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at Paige’s effortless way of grounding her. “Like you?” she teased, her smirk returning.

Paige raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a grin. “Obviously.”

Meanwhile while the two of them were in their own little world, the rest of the team was caught up in their own chaos. Aubrey was yanking the karaoke mic from Ice, asking the group, "Who's next?"

"Well, I vote for Paige," Ice said with a mischievous grin. "You were judging me way too much this morning—your turn!"

Everyone erupted into playful cheers, and even though Paige groaned and shook her head, Azzi could see the challenge in her eyes. Paige was never going to back down from Ice, the two of them probably the most competitive on the team.

“Yeah, come on, P boogers, show us your moves!” KK shouted, her voice carrying through the room.

Paige shot Azzi a look. “Fine, fine, I’ll do it. But only because I can’t let Ice win.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back in her chair as Paige stood up, finishing off her Dirty Shirley in one smooth motion before confidently striding toward the stage area. The rest of the team burst into cheers, egging her on with shouts of encouragement. “Let’s go, Paige!” Ice hollered, clapping her hands.

As Paige grabbed the mic, her grin widened, the thrill of the moment already lighting up her face. She glanced back at the table, her teammates watching eagerly, and locked eyes with Azzi, who was sitting comfortably, her brow raised in amusement. Paige’s gaze lingered on her for just a beat before she turned to the karaoke screen and scrolled through the selections.

“Oh no,” Ice said with a laugh, leaning toward Azzi. “She’s scheming. You can see it.”

Paige finally settled on her song and stepped back, the opening beats of I Invented Sex by Trey Songz featuring Drake blasting through the speakers. A collective groan and cheer erupted from her teammates. “She’s not serious,” KK laughed, shaking her head.

“Hey girl, hey girl, hey girl… This goes out to the beautiful girls,” she sang, her voice smooth and sultry. The bar erupted in cheers, her teammates the loudest of them all.

“Which one of y’all goin’ home with Trigga?” Paige teased, pointing to a group of strangers near the bar. They whooped, leaning into the attention, but Paige’s smirk showed she was just warming up.

Her energy was infectious as she worked the room. She stepped off the stage, weaving between tables, her eyes gleaming with amusement. Paige locked onto Nika first, throwing an arm around her neck as she sang, “Bottles of the Ace got me with a lil’ buzz… You leaned over and said you want me.”

Nika burst out laughing, raising her hair off her neck and fanning herself dramatically as Paige winked and moved on.

Next, Paige made her way to Aubrey, leaning in close as she sang, “Girl, can we take it upstairs… My bed’s waitin’ there.” Aubrey’s jaw dropped as the rest of the team howled with laughter.

But Paige wasn’t done yet. She circled back to Ice, tapping her shoulder to the beat of the song. “You know I live a magnum lifestyle,” Paige sang, flashing her trademark grin. Ice tossed her head back, raising her drink in mock surrender.

Paige’s playful teasing reached Aaliyah and KK, both getting their own share of her attention as she danced between them, her moves deliberately over the top. The bar ate it up, cheering louder with every step she took.

But when Paige turned to Azzi, her energy shifted.

Her teasing smile softened into something more deliberate, her steps slow and purposeful as she approached. Paige’s voice dipped lower, her eyes locking on Azzi with a bit more intensity.

“Girl, when I pull back them sheets… And you climb on top of me,” Paige sang, standing in front of Azzi now.

Azzi tried to hold her ground, smirking up at Paige with her arms crossed, but her resolve cracked when Paige reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her to her feet.

The crowd roared as Paige sang directly to Azzi, her free hand lightly brushing Azzi’s jaw. “You gon’ think I invented sex,” Paige crooned, her voice dripping with intention and playfulness.

Azzi’s smirk faltered, a deep blush creeping up her neck. Paige wasn’t letting her off the hook, though. As the music swelled, Paige spun around, standing behind Azzi now, her hand lightly resting on Azzi’s hips. She leaned in close, her voice soft in Azzi’s ear.

“It’s a celebration clap, clap, bravo…” Paige sang, her words carrying just enough heat to send Azzi’s blush into overdrive.

Azzi laughed, shaking her head, but her flushed cheeks gave her away. 

By the time the song ended, the whole bar was on its feet, clapping and cheering. Paige bowed with exaggerated flair before walking back to the table, her eyes still locked on Azzi.

"Wow, I'm impressed," Azzi said, her tone amused as she sipped her drink.

“What can I say? I’m a natural,” Paige replied, sitting down beside her. The two of them quickly fell into their usual rhythm of playful banter, Azzi teasing Paige about her exaggerated performance and Paige pretending to be offended as the rest of the team chimed in with their own commentary.

The table was buzzing with laughter and conversation when the same girl from earlier—the one Azzi had clocked near the bar—made her move. She approached confidently, a drink in hand and a smile that suggested she had more than casual conversation in mind.

Paige spotted her from the corner of her eye, her instinct telling her to ignore the interruption. But then she glanced at Azzi, who gave the subtlest tilt of her head, signaling she had it covered. Paige leaned back in her seat, her posture relaxed as she let Azzi take the lead.

The girl stopped in front of Paige, setting the drink down on the table with an audible clink. “I couldn’t help but enjoy your performance tonight,” she said with a coy smile, her eyes lingering on Paige. “Thought you deserved a little something for the effort.”

Before Paige could respond, Azzi reached for the drink, her movements deliberate as she plucked it off the table and took a slow sip through the straw. Her gaze never left the girl, her smirk growing as she set the glass back down. “Thanks,” Azzi said casually, leaning back in her chair.

The girl blinked, clearly thrown. “Uh, that was for Paige,” she said, her tone faltering.

Azzi glanced at Paige through her lashes, her voice dropping into a playful purr. “Baby,” she said, her tone laced with teasing affection, “do you mind?”

Paige tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a small smirk. She licked her lips slowly, her eyes locking with Azzi’s. “Of course not,” she murmured, her voice low and easy.

Azzi’s smirk deepened as her fingers brushed Paige’s neck, her attention returning to the girl, who was now visibly unsettled. The girl shifted her weight, attempting to regain her footing.

“You know,” the girl started, her tone taking on an edge at Azzi’s constant presence, “I’m surprised Paige has stuck with one person for so long. That’s not exactly her reputation.” Her eyes flicked to Azzi, testing for a reaction like last time.

But she didn't get one, Azzi just chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Reputation?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. “You mean that phase when she was keeping herself entertained when I wasn’t here yet?” Her gaze flicked to Paige for a moment, her smirk sharpening. “Everyone experiments in college, right, baby?”

Paige, leaning back and watching the exchange with thinly veiled amusement, nodded slightly. “Something like that,” she murmured, letting Azzi steer the conversation.

The girl narrowed her eyes slightly, sensing Azzi wasn’t fazed. She straightened up, doubling down. “I wouldn’t call it a phase. Some of us,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, “leave a lasting impression.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, clearly unimpressed. “Ahh yes, I remember you now,” she said, snapping her fingers as if the memory had just clicked. “You were the one that threw yourself at Paige at a basketball party on campus right? I think she’s told me this story. You kinda just invited yourself to her room. Didn’t she ghost you after though? I remember you asking about it when we were on the way to dinner.” Her tone was light, teasing, but her words landed with precision.

The girl’s face reddened slightly, but she forced a smile. “Maybe,” she said, her voice tight, “but we had fun. She couldn’t keep her hands off me that night.”

Azzi’s grin only grew as she tapped Paige lightly on the shoulder, interrupting her conversation she started with Nika. Paige turned, her brows lifting slightly in question. “What’s up Az?”

Azzi gestured toward the girl with a casual tilt of her head, her amusement clear. “Do you remember her name?” she asked, her tone sweet but undeniably teasing.

Paige frowned slightly, genuinely trying to recall. Her gaze flicked toward Jade for a moment, her lips pressing together in thought. “Um...” She hesitated, searching her memory. “Jessica? Jasmine? No, wait... Jade?” She glanced at Azzi for confirmation, her expression apologetic as she didn’t know what was going on.

Paige’s lips curled into a sheepish smile. “Yeah, sorry,” she admitted, leaning back against her chair. “I used to get things mixed up a little.” She shrugged lightly, her tone casual but not unkind, as if this was just another awkward interaction to brush past like she used to.

The girl blinked, her confidence visibly cracking. “It’s Jade,” she muttered, her tone defensive.

Azzi chuckled softly, clearly enjoying how effortlessly Paige had diffused the moment. She leaned in closer, her fingers trailing lightly down Paige’s arm before stopping to give her hand a gentle squeeze. Azzi’s voice dropped, just loud enough for Paige to hear. “Go on, don't let me keep you from your chat with Nika.”

Paige’s lips quirked in a subtle smile as she glanced at Azzi. “Oh wow, thanks for the permission,” she teased lightly, her tone playful.

Azzi’s eyes sparkled with humor as she looked back at Jade. “So…now that we have that figured out Jade.” She leaned back, casually resting her hand on Paige’s thigh. “It was nice of you to stop by. I always love a good chat with one of Paige’s old friends.”

Jade looked between them, clearly unsure how to proceed. Paige, finally chiming in as Azzi’s fingers squeezed her thigh, glanced at Azzi. “You having fun, huh?” she asked, her tone warm and teasing.

Azzi grinned, brushing her lips against Paige’s temple. “Always, baby.” She turned her gaze back to Jade. “Thank you for the drink,” Azzi added with a dismissive smile.

Jade hesitated for a moment longer before stepping back. “Well… maybe I’ll see you around,” she said, her tone hollow as she directed a few last words at Paige.

“Maybe,” Azzi replied smoothly, her attention already shifting back to Paige as Jade walked away.

Paige watched her go before breaking into a soft laugh, shaking her head as she leaned into Azzi’s space. “You really are a little crazy,” she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

Azzi’s lips curved into a slow, confident smile as she tilted her head, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I think you like when I do that,” she said, her tone low and teasing. “You like seeing me put girls in their place.”

Paige bit her lip, her cheeks warming as she let out a breathy chuckle. “I mean,” she started, leaning closer so only Azzi could hear, her voice dropping. “I can’t disagree. It’s definitely sexy.”

Azzi’s grin widened, satisfaction evident in her expression. She leaned in just enough to brush her nose against Paige’s cheek before whispering, “Good. Because I don’t plan on stopping.”

Paige shook her head with a smile, her gaze lingering on Azzi before finally settling back into their conversation with the team. 

…

The final moments of the year started to tick away and the energy in the room was electric. The entire team had moved into the crowd, drawn by the anticipation of the New Year's Eve countdown. Laughter and excitement filled the air as everyone squeezed in together, ready to welcome the new year. Paige and Azzi, of course, were right next to each other, their fingers intertwined and their hands resting comfortably against each other’s bodies. The closeness between them felt natural, effortless, as if the countdown itself was a part of the rhythm they'd already established together.

The countdown began, the voices of friends and strangers alike filling the bar as everyone joined in. “Ten! Nine! Eight…” The cheers grew louder with each passing second, but Paige’s focus was entirely on Azzi. The way the dim lights glinted off her hair, the way Azzi’s eyes shone when they met Paige’s, everything about her pulled Paige in deeper.

“Three! Two! One!” The room erupted in cheers, the sound of laughter and shouts filling the air as fireworks erupted outside. But for Paige and Azzi, time seemed to slow as the world around them disappeared. Azzi’s hands found their way to Paige’s neck, her fingers lightly tracing the skin as she pulled her in close. Paige wrapped her arms around Azzi’s hips, drawing her in, as the two of them shared a long, slow kiss.

The kiss lasted for what felt like an eternity, neither of them willing to let go. The taste of Azzi lingered on Paige’s lips as their bodies pressed closer, as though the kiss itself was a promise—one they had already made and couldn’t break.

When they finally broke apart, both of them breathless, Paige’s heart pounded in her chest. She blinked rapidly as her hand found Azzi’s cheek, still feeling the heat from their kiss. And before she could stop herself, the words slipped out—soft, breathless, and entirely unintentional.

“God, I love you.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Paige froze, her eyes wide in shock. Her stomach dropped in a mix of panic and realization, as if she’d just said something irreversible. She felt the air in her lungs stutter, unsure whether she should take the words back or let them linger. Her chest tightened with nervousness, the sound of the countdown still echoing in her mind as she waited for Azzi’s response.

But when Paige met Azzi’s gaze, the look on her face was pure awe, like the words she’d just said were the most precious thing she’d ever heard. Azzi’s lips parted slightly, her eyes softening, drinking in every second of the moment.

Azzi didn’t say anything right away. She simply stared at Paige, almost as if she were taking in the weight of those words, letting them settle into the space between them. But Paige, still reeling from her own confession, began to pull away, her nerves getting the better of her. She couldn’t believe she’d said it—couldn’t believe she’d just admitted it out loud. She fucked everything up.

But before she could pull too far back, Azzi’s hands found her again, one gently cupping her face, the other sliding around her back. “Don’t run,” Azzi whispered softly. “You don’t have to run from me Paige.”

Paige met Azzi’s gaze, her heart hammering in her chest, her voice caught in her throat. She tried to breathe deeply, to steady herself, but Azzi’s words were like a soft balm to her panic.

“Be my girlfriend,” Azzi said, her voice steady but full of warmth and tenderness. “Please. So I can tell you every day how much I love you.”

Paige blinked, caught completely off guard by the question. She wasn’t sure how to respond, her thoughts swirling, but Azzi’s eyes were filled with sincerity, and there was no question in the way Azzi was looking at her—only the desire to make her feel safe, loved, and wanted.

“Huh?” Paige managed to say, her voice soft, surprised, and a little nervous. She hadn’t expected this—not like this, not yet.

Azzi laughed gently, her laughter soothing Paige’s nerves. “I said,” she repeated, her voice dripping with affection. “Be my girlfriend. I want to be with you. I want to love you. Let me do that.”

And that was it. In that moment, everything else fell away. There was no more hesitation. No more fear. Paige’s heart swelled, her mind quieting, and she smiled, finally, with a soft, relieved laugh. “Yeah,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, but clear as day. “I will.”

Azzi’s smile stretched across her face as she pulled Paige back in, kissing her again. This time, it was softer, gentler, but no less full of emotion. Their kiss lingered, the pressure of it tender as if they were committing the moment to memory, holding it close for the future. When they finally pulled apart, neither of them wanted to speak, but both knew that everything was different now.

Paige, her heart still racing, looked into Azzi’s eyes and whispered, “Let’s get out of here.”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. She nodded with a soft smile, her fingers lacing effortlessly with Paige’s as she let her lead the way. Together, they wove through the crowd, their hands tightly clasped. Paige caught Nika’s eye from across the room and gave her a small nod, signaling that they were leaving. Nika smirked knowingly, nodding her approval as Paige and Azzi slipped out the door.

The crisp night air hit them as they stepped outside, a sharp contrast to the warmth and noise of the bar. The snow-dusted streets sparkled under the streetlights, and the faint hum of the city surrounded them. Paige’s hand stayed firmly in Azzi’s, her thumb brushing lightly over Azzi’s knuckles here and there, an unspoken gesture of reassurance.

They walked in companionable silence, the warmth of their drinks still lingering in their systems, though it was quickly overshadowed by the buzz of simply being together. The streets were quiet, save for the occasional car passing by or laughter echoing faintly from another nearby bar.

As they strolled, they passed a brightly lit Dairy Queen. Azzi’s steps faltered slightly, her gaze lingering on the building. Paige noticed immediately, a small laugh escaping her lips.

“You want ice cream, don’t you?” Paige asked, her voice filled with playful amusement.

Azzi tried to feign innocence, but the glint in her eyes betrayed her. “Who says I want ice cream?” she teased, a smile tugging at her lips.

Paige shook her head, already tugging Azzi toward the entrance. “You don’t have to say it, Fudd. I know you too well.”

The bell above the door jingled softly as they stepped inside, greeted by the warmth of the shop and the sweet smell of waffle cones. Azzi’s eyes lit up as she scanned the menu, her focus shifting to the options in front of her. Paige leaned against the counter, her gaze fixed on Azzi with a fond smile.

“What’re you thinking?” Paige asked, her voice soft, almost teasing.

Azzi didn’t look away from the menu. “Chocolate fudge brownie,” she said with mock seriousness, as if it were a life-changing decision.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Solid choice. I’ll get mint chocolate chip, but fair warning—I’m stealing some of yours.”

Azzi shot her a playful glare. “You’re the worst.”

“And yet, here you are, my girlfriend now” Paige countered, smirking.

Once they had their ice cream, they continued their walk through the quiet streets. The faint crunch of snow underfoot accompanied the occasional bump of their shoulders as they strolled side by side, their breaths visible in the cold air. Paige glanced at Azzi, her lips quirking into a small smile.

“You’re the only person I know who’d want ice cream when there’s snow on the ground,” Paige said, her tone teasing.

Azzi turned to her, raising an eyebrow. “You’re literally eating ice cream right now.”

Paige laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Yeah, because if I didn’t, you would’ve refused to get any.”

“That’s not true,” Azzi argued, though her expression betrayed her.

Paige gave her a knowing look, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “Both of us know better.”

Azzi shook her head, a chuckle slipping from her lips as they fell into a comfortable silence. The streets were deserted, the only sounds coming from their footsteps and the faint hum of the city in the distance. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, adding to the quiet beauty of the night.

For a moment, Paige just enjoyed the simplicity of being with Azzi, the warmth of her presence cutting through the chill in the air. But as they continued walking, her thoughts began to spill out.

Paige began, her voice softer now, “I really love you, you know I meant it when I said that right?”

Azzi glanced over at her, a small, dimpled smile breaking across her face as she took another bite of her ice cream. “I do know that,” she said warmly.

Paige’s cheeks reddened slightly, but she pressed on, her words tumbling out like a confession she couldn’t hold onto anymore. “I just..I want you to know that I want this…I want us to be more than just something we look back on from college Az. I want a future with you. I was daydreaming about you walking down the aisle the other day, and I thought I was insane. She paused, glancing at Azzi, who was watching her intently as she talked. “I just…I don’t know what I’d do without you anymore. You’re it for me.”

Azzi slowed her pace, turning to look fully at Paige. Her expression was filled with awe, her eyes shining under the soft glow of the streetlights. “Paige–” she began, her voice full of emotion, “I want a future with you too…I want nothing more than to come home to you everyday for the rest of my life.” 

Paige blinked, her heart swelling as Azzi continued.

“I’ll admit, it scared the hell out of me at first,” Azzi said, her voice quieter now. “We’ve only known each other for half a year and I would do anything for you. It feels like I’ve known you my whole life. Like…a part of me was waiting for you, and I’m discovering so much about myself the more I get to know you.”

Paige’s steps faltered slightly as she processed Azzi’s words, her chest tightening in the best way. She stopped, turning fully toward Azzi and searching her eyes for any hint of doubt—but all she saw was warmth and certainty.

“You mean that?” Paige whispered, her voice barely audible over the gentle hush of the falling snow.

Azzi nodded, her dimples deepening as she gave Paige a soft smile. “Every word,” she said.

Paige’s breath hitched, and she reached out, her fingers brushing Azzi’s cheek. “You make me feel like I can do anything, like I’m finally where I’m supposed to be.”

Azzi leaned into Paige’s touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. “That’s because you are,” she replied.. “And if I have anything to say about it, you always will be.”

Paige’s lips quirked into a small smile as she stepped closer, the space between them vanishing. “How did I get so lucky?” she asked, her thumb gently tracing along Azzi’s cheekbone.

Azzi’s eyes sparkled as she tilted her head, closing the remaining distance between them. “I think we both got lucky,” she murmured before pressing her lips to Paige’s in a kiss that was soft. 

The world around them seemed to fade as they melted into each other, the warmth of the kiss cutting through the cold air. Paige’s free hand settled on Azzi’s waist, pulling her closer, while Azzi’s fingers threaded through Paige’s hair, anchoring her in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads pressed together, their breaths visible in the chill of the night.

“I used to think I didn’t have time for this. That I didn’t want anything like this,” Paige admitted, her voice low.

Azzi smiled, her hand sliding down to rest on Paige’s shoulders. “And now?” she asked, her tone gentle.

Paige let out a quiet laugh, her heart feeling impossibly full. “Now I can’t imagine my life without you. I don’t want to imagine it.”

They stood there for a moment longer, wrapped in each other’s arms, the snow continuing to fall around them. The quiet streets felt like their own little world, one where nothing existed but the love they shared.

Finally, Paige broke the silence with a playful grin. “Come on, we’re going to freeze out here.”

Azzi laughed, her dimples reappearing as she reluctantly stepped back. “Okay, but only because I don’t want you blaming me if you catch a cold. You’re a nightmare when you’re sick.”

Paige laced her fingers with Azzi’s, her grip firm and reassuring as they resumed their walk. Their shoulders bumped again, but this time it was intentional, a silent exchange of affection that needed no words.