#other than all that I'm doing fine lol. My brain's always been like this; But I usually only get like this during the winter season

[manasurge]

Just a bit of lore relevant vent art (with terrible proportions bc apparently I mess that up horribly when I'm tired ugh. Watch me regret posting this tomorrow. The head size is already driving me mad bc it's too big, and I can feel myself wanting to abort this mission already) of Mourynn just, lying down on top of one of those large elevated Pale Tree roots far above the Grove (and far away from everyone else), and during the time between the early years and before the Personal story. Caithe is gone (Destiny's Edge), Wynne is gone (bc well, y'know...), even Faolain is gone (bc of Caithe in DE), and she's just feeling miserable, lost, and alone. (Her hair is in between her sapling hair and the Zhaitan hair, so it's grown out a bit bc she's depressed, and she's meant to be in the new outfit she designed, but I'm in the process of redesigning it a bit, so I've made a few tentative changes for now. Her collar is now just an extension of her clavicle leaves which can be put up like a collar, or can be draped down over her shoulders or back)

[acid-ixx]

gets fucking stabbed by damian and my last breath still be like "it's not his fault ! he is ten and was raised to be murderous since he was born ! kid entered a household where everyone ignores my existence, i don't blame him for assuming that to be the norm and acting evil to me so that he assimilates to his new environment ! bro literally went through the worst all his life so of course the way he expresses himself is harmful to others !"

and then i get stabbed again lol

— masterlist !

OH MY GOD PLEASE 😭 the gaslighting yourself is real, i'm telling you.

unfortunately, the reader's toxic mindset of justifying everything your family does is a common scenario for every time one of them fucks up; only in the past though. the present chapters will have you slowly realize just nothing really is ever your fault. that you've never once been in the blame for the actions of your youngest brother.

but right now, i want to focus on why you just seem to let damian go about his own crazy path of targeting you. and it's either it's because you have nothing, nobody else to fight back with you, or it's purely because you allow him to.

to destroy you, to make you suffer, to make you learn that you have no place, or standing in the family. and if you do have a place, it is at the rock bottom.

this is what damian is taught: the weak should be eliminated before they fester into some type of unnecessary cancer.

you're weak, when he first saw you, when you first approached him with your tail tucked behind your legs and an invitation to hang out together with the scent of cookies wafting in the air— he knows that it is you who will make him weak.

you give him temptations to be a child, he's raised to fight against it. he ignores the unwelcomed feeling of wamth that blooms in his chest, those are feelings that gets you killed.

so it's how the story goes: he brings his sword up to your neck, and sways his hands swift enough to make a small cut to ensure that the first thing you associate him with is fear. and for someone vulnerable like you, it doesn't take much before you quickly submit to the prospect of your place beneath a trained assassin like him.

he ignores the sudden pang of his heart and the aching, gnawing dread that chews at his mind at the memory of your widening eyes and the wobble in your steps.

it's already damaging enough to have the youngest be introduced and immediately accepted into the family, but it's worse when he's significantly younger than you, a boy nearly half your age; someone you've always wanted to have, to care for, to help raise and cherish... despises you from the start, before you two even formed a connection.

someone you once called your younger brother, now became an enemy in opposing lines in a place called home.

what would've been fine-tuned jealousy towards him because he was given everything in a silver platter turned into shame that you couldn't even face him, not right after he threatened to kill you, no... and especially not after you've convinced yourself that if you couldn't even prove your worth for a young boy like him, then you really have nothing good to offer.

you give him the autonomy to think it's alright, that due to his upbringing, alongside your naive brain always justifying that your other siblings are right, and you are in the wrong— he was given every opportunity to torment you when you even go as far as being in the same room as him.

and i have my receipts on why you're just like that; all in the grace of low self-worth and self-esteem. past you reasons out that it's because it's always your fault.

you couldn't even find a way to save your mother, you couldn't even establish your place in the manor, you couldn't comfort bruce when he was still not over jason, what more could you be when all you see damian as is a young, broken child like you? that behind that veil of threats and weapons ready to attack you, is someone you knew could've been different, if he was raised right...

if he'd given you a chance to help nurture the softer, more humane part of him.

you've always wanted a younger sibling, not only from back when you were just with your mother, but also when you were introduced to the manor. because not only did it mean that you'll know how your mother felt when she raised you, but because you thought you'd have somebody by your side throughout the silent torment you've went through.

and when you're graced with one, who doesn't even consider you his older sibling; you let it be.

you let him be himself.

damian wayne, demon's granson, the son of the bat.

so many titles he's called, but never one where he's your younger brother.

it doesn't help that you justify his past, because the man you idolize, dick, does so too whenever you try to complain. his excuses are never out of malicious intent to have you suffer further— it's just that he never once actually considered you as important enough to bat an eye on, like how the rest of them treat you.

because you know that even dick has his limit towards the youngest member of the family; he just never reaches it when it comes to you.

so if you have a person allow another to act terribly towards you, but have another, a friend or family, who teaches you that it's not right, who fights by your side; it wouldn't take long for you to also learn how to defend yourself then. you'll gain confidence that you're at least not alone, that your actions are completely valid.

... but if you have an entire family that couldn't even scold the boy for leaving a scar on your neck, who brushes his mean comments about you aside, who isolates you even further with malicious words that you know becomes crueler when targeted at you—

then you have no basis for what is right, and what is wrong.

and that makes your authority, your trust in yourself dwindle like your already crumbling relationship with all the others the further you try to fight back.

that's when you learn what it's like to give up, all over again. if you accept his vidictive insults, if you know your place to turn back if you see him in the same room, if you knew from the start that sometimes trying doesn't equate to succeeding; then it'll at least numb the pain that comes after.

for the entirety of your life from when damian was introduced, that was how you coped—

but your life after the manor, after damian matures and learns softness, about empathy (that he's buried long ago during his training from when he was all but a toddler) on your situation; reading your journal entries because he still felt entitled to due to some hidden, twisted trait of possessiveness... that's an entirely different story.

would you still be as understanding as you were back in the past towards him? would you still force yourself to love the demon you saw as just a little boy? or would damian finally understand that it's too late to turn back time, to correct all his mistakes?

either way, if you were capable enough to change (at least, in his eyes), becoming an independent person (you think, huh? your place is at the manor), then maybe you could give him a chance too, to fix your relationship and build a bridge to an even stronger one.

one where you could finally baby him, like what you've desired. one where he could feel vulnerable, when he learned that it's valid to feel weak— it cuts back to the previous points: you make him weak.

and when he's out to find you after going through every single diary, every entry, after deducing that there's still a small spark in your that'll forgive him if he tries; he refuses give up any sooner if it meant replicating the same warmth he felt when he stood by your presence.

so... you wouldn't want to leave your youngest brother waiting for you, don't you?

after all, it's just like what your entries told him, right? this is what you always wanted, right?

a/n: everyone is entitled to their own feelings about how i portray damian and mc's relationship!!! i love how all of you guys have different conflicting reactions to this. it's all so complex for me, how damian sees you as someone who's weak and makes him weak (he's just a stubborn little guy), and you, who sees yourself in damian, alongside the added desire to just have someone to care for (because you want to so badly honor your mother's memory), and that person also caring for you is ARGH!!?!

i apologize for my long rambles (if anyone wants me to cut back on posts like this, just tell me), i'm sure everyone is anticipating chapter 5 and possibly (soon) chapter 6 (since the drafts, not the final work is becoming too long). but right now, all i could provide are my depictions of the reader's relationship with every member of the family. i love to churn scenarios where it feels like you're actually part of the family so i'm actually manipulating all of you guys to become attached to the characters too, just to add an extra layer of angst, hehe...

[theyluvlyss]

age gap😃? NOTHING CRAZY, CHILL, but yk, like,,, just a little young thing in her 20s or sumn being scooped up by one (or two🤭) of these older, more mature, aged like fine wine, and experienced men,,, that's all🥰.

I am thirsting so hard for remy after watching the movie… with this I can just imagine a young yet powerful mutant coming to the void and she never got the experience in sex in her timeline. So remy takes it upon himself to teach her the ways of the bedroom… first time may have involved a mistake with her powers when she cums for the first time but he’s so understandable and says like “you need to practice your control mon cherie” so he just dives back in for more (he makes her cum like 5-7 times from head alone cause he makes his woman feel amazing I bet) this is so long sorry hope you like this 😅🩷

𝐇𝐅𝐉𝐒𝐊𝐂𝐈𝐉𝐆𝐊𝐆𝐏𝐋𝐆𝐈𝐄𝐊𝐆𝐎𝐄𝐈𝐈𝐅𝐊𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐉𝐆 !!!!!

first of all,,, never apologize for length, especially to me who makes everything way longer than need be, we (I, it's just me, idk who "we" is lol) love and appreciate that shit over here. ppl who love absurdly long fics, requests, and other media unite✊🏽 !!!

second of all,,, *ugly sobbing* I'm always the writer and never (how does one actually say this properly🤔?) the writee, so for someone to have actually dropped this for me in my inbox is SO flattering and sweet and ughghfhf, you guys, I HIGHLY encourage more of this, I love it, I truly do.

third of all,,, THIS IS SO GOOD omg literally giggling and kicking my feet (I do that a lot on this app) !!! I am the same way, I saw gambit and just... idk what happened to me, something in my organic chemistry just altered forever and while I'm not and will probably never be a channing tatum girly, he did his goddamn JOB in that role, ATE IT TF UP👏🏽 (and I knew he would, it's about damn time like c'mon, he'd been promised the role for idk a decade or so like, again I say, about damn time) so while I might not be all over tatum, I am all over his portrayal of remy lebeau and I need more fics/content NEOOOWW😾 (plz😽) from y'all's little writer brains of yours.

anyways, onto what you've sent in specifically lmao, you said "young yet powerful mutant" and "mistake with her powers" and "...practice your control..." and for whatever reason, my brain conjured up a mutant reader with wings or just a power that involves maybe floating/telekinesis...😃✋🏽hear me out...

so, remy's getting busy, right, and he's making reader feel so good and, like you mentioned, she ain't got much control over her powers yet cuz she's younger than him, so she cvms and boom, her wings (whether they be feathered or fairy) just pop out without her realizing😻. or with telekinesis, the better she's feeling/closer she's getting, the more stuff/higher she's causing things around them to float because again, little and/or loss of control because he's making her feel that good (we all know he's got the tongue work of a god, I mean, just listen to the man speak for fuck's sake lmao🥴).

I think it'd definitely be a cute touch and fs something she'd get teased about from remy lmao.

[jambalaya-enthusiast]

dude- i keep thinking about how the crew would react to reader just flirting with them randomly then cutting themselves off and just saying “WHAT WHO SAID THAT”

MAN THESE GEN Z PEOPLE—Crew Members x Reader who flirts with them and randomly yells WHO SAID THAT???

a/n: sorry guys, ik I've been late on this, especially sorry anon, this ask has been in there for WEEKS now. long story short, life happened. Im not graduating this year, my brain made me do not fun stuff which ended in me getting a concussion and being put on new meds. I chose the meds cuz it was either this or a trip down to the psych ward. tmi sorry lol. dw I'm back to writing tho.

warnings: none, goofy ahh fic

CURLY

He is one those himbos who is also kind of a country bumpkin so he's just confused above all else.

Whenever you flirt with him he is always smiling ear to ear.

"damn curly you're so hot, but i could still eat you without breaking a sweat–,

"awh y/n that's—

"WHO SAID THAT?????"

curly 404 has stopped working

he doesn't understand any gen z memes so he'll just stare at u like this: 😀?

JIMMY

annoyed. plain simple annoyed.

he is no better than curly, "memes are for people who have time for enjoyment". Ahh

He'll be grinning, being proud how you're skirting with him and then you go with that fuckass loud yell.

"jimmy you should let me borrow a kiss ;)".

"you know damn right, c'mere-

"WHO SAID THAT..WHO SAID THATTTTT?????".

Y/N WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK

Is annoyed for the rest of the day,

"this is why you don't get kisses you dork ass moron".

ANYA

Her heart just drops in her stomach whenever you yell that in her face😭

You've done it so many times yet she always somehow falls for it.

"Anya you're so sweet i could eat you up anytime".

"hehe y/n you're so–

"WHO SAID THATTTTT????"

she'll just drop on the spot 😭

SWANSEA

He has made you sign a literal written agreement that you will not be pulling off that stupid stunt any further.

Gets extremely fucking annoyed like you can see it on his face.

"lookin' damn fine swanbae ;)– WHO SAID THAT??????

"I am going to SMACK you kid".

Doesn't talk to you for the rest of the day

DAISUKE

You both compete with each other in order to see who can catch the other off guard the most in a day.

So the other crew members basically hear the disembodied yells of WHO SAID THAT throughout the day.

Swansea sometimes has to put you both on timeout when it gets out of control.

[httpsserene]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʀᴛᴜᴀʟ ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ ʙᴏᴏᴛᴄᴀᴍᴘ ᴡ/ᴍᴠ33

📖ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: you start showing interest in sim racing. max's only option is to turn you into the best virtual-racer there ever was--well besides himself, of course. 📖ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: fluff. brain vomit. formatting (done on mobile💀). tiniest explicit reference. not edited. 📖ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2k words 📖ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: max verstappen x fem!black!reader 📖ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: headcanons & smau 📖ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ: word on the streets • key glock

ᴘʀᴇꜰᴀᴄᴇ: thought about this the whole time i was working. and then some man had the exact same voice as max and i genuinely almost dissolved into thin air because i felt like max was punishing me for thinking about this on the clock :) anyways, hope u enjoy the brainrot, loves !!!

wanna be on my taglist ? send me an ask !

and yes, i did make a masterlist !

*whispers* next f1 kinktober fic this weekend

you were probably unaware that sim racing was even a thing until you started dating max

like you’ve seen the funny little twitch clips of people playing driving simulators and being absolute menaces on the road, but you never knew actual virtual racing was a thing

anyways, whether or not you consider yourself a gamer in this scenario, you’ve always been pretty down to play videogames with max.

he absolutely annihilates you in FIFA, and no matter how much he tries to help you, you’re a lost cause

in return, you embarrass him in COD; he should’ve looked at your kd-ratio before he tried to play with you

but, sim racing 🧐

i mean, like, you never even fully considered that you could sim race at all, like not for leisure at least

max takes that shit seriously, he’s a part-time f1 driver full time simracing twitch streamer 😤

you are always around watching him practice on the sim, playing the f1 games, and even tuning in for his iracing competitions

at first, whenever max would stream you would probably be doing other things with your time

your hair, cleaning, self-care, cooking, etc.

eventually, you started migrating to sitting on the couch off-camera and watching him drive irl instead of having the stream on in the background

you were originally like, “oh it’s just because i wanna drool over his massive veiny hands” 🤤

but now it’s like “oh i wonder what each button he presses with his nicely proportioned fingers on the steering wheel does?”

and slowly it transforms from “wow my boyfriend is so cool” to “wait…this sim-racing thing is kinda cool”😵‍💫

now imagine you being like “lol wait a minute now” and being like i'm only interested in because my boyfriend loves it 🤥

in order to disprove this theory you start to ask max questions about virtual racing

not that you wouldn’t before, but they were fairly surface level; now you’re asking him about tactics, strategies, and track conditions etc.

and max is fucking thrilled 🫨🫨🫨 !!!

he eagerly answers all your questions (maxplaning 🥱), going way more into depth than you were expecting, but what did you think was going to happen

max is always happy to ramble about any small facet of virtual racing (doesn’t matter if it’s the sim, or iracing, or f1 2023) but

it makes him really pleased that you’re showing a genuine interest in it because most people don’t

you support him in anything he wants to do wholeheartedly, and listening and answering your well thought out questions has him falling head over heels for you again

so, he thinks nothing of it other than you being the best girlfriend he’s ever had and trying to learn more about what he loves

his previous girlfriends didn’t really care to understand how important vr racing was to him

they all just saw it as him playing a “game” and him wasting time when they could’ve been on dates or smth

anyways

everything is going fine and dandier, max continues to answer all of your vr racing questions, and you continue to watch him pilot the sim

until, he catches you watching a beginner’s guide on f1 2023 and get’s so jealous 😒

bro is all like “wtf, you’re watching some lame ass unranked gamer when i’m your professional driver boyfriend who does this for a living?? hell nah if you want to start playing i’ll teach you”

you’re just like, “nahhhh….i don’t want to waste your time trying to teach me, it’s not worth it. i’m not even a good driver irl, so—“

max shuts that down expeditiously

if his girlfriend wants to start vr racing, he only has one option

make you the best virtual racer there ever was (excluding him)

you’re wide-eyed like, “i just wanna go vroom vroom in circles for fun 😭”

max deathly serious, “that was never an option”

he enlists you in his virtual-racing training camp

if you are aware of the disney rapid training montage where the mc sings one song and suddenly they’re the best fighter ever, that’s how i imagined it

mulan, for example, i’ll make a man out of you

max reveals his inner george russell, he becomes a power point king

instead of date nights being cute pottery classes—they turn into him teaching you the parts of the car, the buttons on the wheel, f1 2023 settings breakdowns, reviewing iracing competitions etc.

eventually max finally allows you to play on the sim after he thinks you’ve got the theory down pretty good

you suck at first 🤗

but then you start clocking in some hours

after work, during your “lunch break”, using the sim while max is gone and playing during all the practice and media sessions

whenever max is gone, and you have any questions or ask for feedback on how to get better, you text him all about it, of course not expecting an immediate response back

max has told you before that he likes getting out of the car after a practice session and checking his phone to see all the missed messages from you with some wishing him luck and the others asking for his thoughts on your strategies

one day, he’s going for lunch with some of the other drivers and they start to make fun of him for how he’s stuck in his phone, heart-eyes and all as he rapidly texts you

they probably think that you’re sending him cute texts or photos like that one time they caught him looking at photos of you and learned he had a locked photo album of you on his phone ☠️

max remains unbothered under their teasing thinking, “they don’t know my gf can out pace them by .200 in f1 2023”

max even personally bothers christian into getting him another sim for you

christian is so tired of you two, max won’t leave him ALONE

i think max would text his team principal screenshots of your lap times and make jokes about it

“if checo keeps dnf-ing, my gf can fill in”

christian gets you the goddamn sim 😒

y’all procrastinate on building and calibrating it, max more so because it means his chair would stop smelling like you 🥺

you get it set up, but you still play on his sim every once in a while after he told you that because you’re a simp

he goes to stream one day, planning on practicing with the redline team for an upcoming iracing event

and the man almost BREAKS HIS LEGS trying to sit down because you forgot to move the chair back after you were done using it 😭😭

in between his groan of pain he let’s it slip “ow fuck, my girlfriend forgot to move the seat back after she was done”

chat goes ducking crazy

yooo, what? ur gf sim races???

is she good???

max is like “hell fucking yeah my girlfriend is great sim racer, she could replace one of the boys at redline if she wanted too!”

(team redline sweats anxiously, mics now suspiciously silent)

max continues, “well she is not as great as me, but she’s good i guess”

stream chat “they are going to have babies that completely dominate f1” “if their babies are born in the netherlands we will be stuck in purgatory cursed with hearing the dutch anthem forever”

max continues with his practice but everyone is begging to see you play, even some of the redline guys are asking questions

they wanna know if they’re really at risk of you stealing their seat

max gives up and turns to you on the couch with a smile and says, “i will beg, schatje. do not put it past me, we all want to see you drive. some people are saying i’m lying so you have to prove them wrong🙇🏼”

you’re like “what 😅 no 😧i suck 🤭 at this 🤗” but you’re already getting up and walking over to boot up your sim

the urge to flex on people and embarrass them is something both you and max share

max opens f1 2023 and starts a party for just you two, and you both decide to do quali laps at zandovoort

you do your hot lap first, and max goes after you

max y’ know, probably thinks that he can take it relatively easier on you, there’s no reason to put 100% effort into something for fun, so he puts in 95% 😀 (competitive boy)

and you know that one nepenthez meme

that’s how this goes

max is like, already rambling to the stream “yeah that’s a comfortable p1, she still has a lot to learn before she can beat a world champ—P2??!!!! 😧😳”

you’re just in the background in your sim chair, turned facing the camera with an innocent little smirk smile on your face ☺️

you got pole by .050, and chat starts bullying max, the redline boys laughing hysterically in his headphones

max requests a rematch and promptly annihilates you :)

i like to imagine that eventually you start joining max’s stream and the two of yous start having little racing tournaments whenever you guys have the time

omg could you imagine the little championship ceremony where you put party hats on jimmy and sassy and have fake little tiny gold trophies for whoever wins 🥹

imagine one day ‼️ you actually start doing iracing events, and just working your way up to being one of the best 😌

ANYWAYS to wrap it up, best teacher max ever

virtual racing 🤝 strong relationships

twitter • today

instagram

maxverstappen1 • 32 mins ago

liked by yninstagram, danielricciardo3, and 7,324,122 ofhers

maxverstappen1 the only woman for me 🧎🏼

tagged yninstagram

view comments

yninstagram baby. baby—😭😭😭😭

➥ maxverstappen1 i love you

➥ yninstagram what the fuck has gotten into you 😳 i love you, maxy 🫶🏽

user the way ‼️ he cradles ‼️ her head 😭😭

danielricciardo3 this genuinely the sappiest thing max has ever said

➥ maxverstappen1 do not worry daniel you are the only man for me

➥ user my therapist will be hearing about this

user the fact that max personally handmade that meme 💀

user never thought i’d see the day that max uses the kneeling emoji

➥ maxverstappen1 i’m on my knees for her more often than you think

➥ user alRIGHT go ahead and clock out for me 😒

➥ redbullracingf1 do you remember the media training we had two days ago, max?

taglist: @lorarri | @saintslewis | @cherry2stems | @sweetpiccolo-blog

© httpsserene2023

[hoshigray]

I WANT TOJI TO GUIDE ME (like literally almost teach me) HOW TO GIVE HIM HEAD PLZZZZ

Ohhhh, I don't know how tf I'm gonna write this, but here we go!! Hope I did alright on this one hehehe~ *sweats nervously*

Cw: Toji x fem!reader - oral (m! receiving) - it starts off cute but gets dirty, so minors DNI - reader admiring Toji's dick lol - face+throat-fucking (Toji goes at a reasonable pace) - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, sweetie, mama) - heavily detailed descriptions of a blowjob - praise - Toji laughing at you asking him to help bc what are boyfriends for, but you get a laugh out of it too - some humor. Wc: 2.8k

"You okay, kid?"

"Hmm?"

"You look lost in thought about somethin'."

"I do?" He lifts a brow and nods at you. "Oh, it's nothing, Toji, honest." The man looks at you for a few seconds as if he doesn't believe your answer, yet he goes back to watching the television, and the big hand on your shoulder brings you closer to him.

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon, and you and Toji are watching your favorite sitcom on the couch in your living room. But the show wasn't capturing your attention like it usually does. Instead, your mind wandered to other matters. Other...explicit matters.

How explicit? The two of you have been together for a long while now, and you can honestly say things have been going great. For him to be your first serious relationship — plus him being older and more mature than you — it's nice to know that things have been going way smoother than you'd thought in the beginning.

Although things may seem fine, something has been clouding your head recently. This is where explicit matters come into the conversation.

Through all this time together, it just occurred to you that you haven't given Toji head. Scratch that: you've NEVER given a blowjob, period.

It's always been the other way around. Not that you're complaining, because your boyfriend seems to enjoy eating you out. And he's actually good at it! Like, really good at it. Just reminiscing all the moments he's had you turn into jelly with just his scarred lips and relentless tongue is enough to make you go dizzy.

It's a pleasure how attentive he is to you during sex. And you appreciate that he cares for you in that regard...yet you can't help but feel like you're not a good partner in bed with your lack of reciprocity.

And it's not like you don't want to give him head. Because trust, you would've done so already! The real problem is that...you don't know how.

You've watched videos and read articles on how to do it, even practicing on a banana (per your friend's advice). Nevertheless, whenever you wish to initiate; or the opportunity arises, you just freeze on the spot and force yourself to forget about it. It's as if researching and amping yourself up is way easier than the execution.

Though, you can't just let your man be the only person doing the work — sex is supposed to be enjoyable for both parties, damn it! And you're gonna push yourself to have his dick in your mouth one way or the fucking other! But......where the hell do I start!!??

You release a defeated sigh, bringing your hand up to massage your forehead from the endless banter in your brain. And Toji watches you from his peripheral, his brows drawing downward at your display of frustration. "Alright," his gruff voice snaps you back to him as he lowers the TV volume. "What's goin' on in your lil' head, baby?"

You blink at his question. "Hmm? What do you—"

"Aht aht, don't do that with me." His jade eyes harden, and you hold back from finishing whatever you were going to say. "Somethin's wrong, so tell me. I'm over here watchin' this stupid show that you dragged me on to, and you're not even paying attention."

"Hey! It is not stupid," you counterargue, and use his comment to dissuade him from the topic. "You were very invested last week when my favorite character punched the guy she likes for stabbing her in the back! So who are you to—"

"Y/n." It didn't work. Your name was thrown at you with such seriousness that there was no use in trying to distract him. "Tell me what's goin' on. If somethin' is bothering you, don't be scared to come to me about it." He says it sternly, yet he's still gentle with his delivery.

"Toji..." You can only call him by name before he leans forward to kiss your forehead, and it almost melts all your worries away.

"Tell me."

The two of you look at each other for mere seconds, you searching for any sign of uncertainty before confessing your thoughts to him. You sigh once more and lean onto Toji, his hand rubbing on your shoulder — a silent gesture of him giving you all the time you need before confiding with him.

You told him, "Don't laugh, okay?"

He scoffs. "Can't make promises I can't keep, kid." His smile manifests when you shake your head at his shenanigans. "I won't laugh, angel."

When he uses the pet name on you, it seals the deal. It's now or never.

"I was just thinking that...I might need your help with something."

A brow is lifted. "With what?"

"Umm, it's..." Your fingers find each other to fiddle with to keep you busy from the awkward tension. "It's for......y-you know—"

"I don't know."

"I-ahem-I want," you can only gulp to ease the uncomfortable bob in your throat. ".........Iwannagiveyouablowjob."

No words. No movements. Nothing. Only the noise from the TV gives a sense of life to the silence following your confession. Even the big hand on your shoulder chose to remain completely still. And you can feel the slight quiver of your lips start to come to fruition.

Nothing happens until you feel a jolt on the shoulder you're resting on. Your face blooms hot, and your lips can't fight the uncomfortable twinge. Oh, this motherfucker is about to laugh.

"Is...Is that—ahem," A tiny gust of wind exits through his nostrils, trying to extinguish the beginning of a chortle. "Is that what was botherin' you this entire time?"

Now your ears get hot, and all you can think about is how you'll dig a nice big hole for yourself to crawl in later. God, why me??!

"W-Well, I mean, I notice how you're always doing it on me," another jolt from the older man. "And...I just feel like I'm not doing my part." He lifts his hand from your shoulder and rests it on his face. Fits of chuckles silently enter the air. "But I don't know how to....do that kinda stuff. So, I was just wondering—" He starts smacking his thigh, and with the twitch of your eyebrow, you've had enough. "Toji, I swear to Christ, if you don't fucking stop—"

And with that, the floodgates opened. The laughs he was doing a terrible job suppressing wheezed out, his hand covering his eyes while the shit-eating grin was present with laughter seeping out his system. You cover your face with your hands, shielding away from the embarrassment and not letting him hear giggles of your own.

"Oh shit, c'mere ya damn cutie." Toji pulls you in with both arms, caging you so he can place a kiss on your temple. "Pfft, kid, I'm not laughing at you. But goddamn, you looked so fuckin' stressed fr' no reason."

"But it is a reason!" You chuckle under your hands, only prompting your boyfriend to laugh harder. Once he calms down, you explain yourself further. "Toji, I'm serious. We've been together for this long, and it's always been me getting eaten out. I just think it's unfair that I get to feel good and you don't, ya know?"

He snickers. "I'm always feelin' good when I fuck the shit out of you."

"You KNOW that's not the same thing!!" Toji barks a laugh from you yelling at him, and you can't take this anymore. Removing yourself from him, you get up from the couch before you sink further into the internal pool of regret. "Just forget it. This conversation never happened...I'll just go to sleep." And hopefully, die of suffocation from my pillow.

However, before you could step toward your bedroom, Toji quickly caught your wrist. You reluctantly turn to see him looking at you with a playful smirk and soft hooded emerald eyes. "Not so fast there, sweetie." His hand slides down to fully grasp your hand, engulfing it with his size. "Ya know, you're a real cutie when worryin' about me. But don't go thinking you're not making me feel good, because you do with what you got. I woulda found someone else if you didn't." You briefly glare at him, though you know he has a point.

"Yeah, I know. But I want to do more. You always take good care of me, so...I wanna do the same for you." And Toji knows you're serious about this. It doesn't matter if you can't look directly at him because of your bashfulness; your words are sincere. God, you looked so cute it drove him crazy.

He sighs quietly with a smirk, his thumb making circles on the back of your palm. "Well, if you're really sure about putting y'r mouth on my dick," and before you could fully process his words, the older man spreads his legs for your eyes to observe. And the first thing that corrupts your vision is the outline of his erect cock, the tent prominent through his dark sweatpants. "Looks like ya got yourself a lesson. Up for it?"

You gawk at his erection for three extra seconds before you look at your boyfriend and give him a nod for confirmation. Seems like your plans of suffocation and dying in a hole have been postponed to another day.

Toji grins hard, his teeth peeking through under his scar, and then he points to the floor with his chin. As instructed, you kneel between his legs.

He pulls down the waistband of his sweatpants, freeing his cock from the clothed prison for you. And you're in awe with the sight before you. Of course, you've known his girth to be immense. You've had the damn thing inside you, for God's sake. But now, seeing his length so close, it's hard to believe you had him before. You can take note of every dent and vein of his shaft, how they structure all the way down to the base, and the pinkish-red color of the tip. It all overwhelms you and makes you second-guess what you're about to do...and the throbbing sensation down south flourishes.

"Like what ya see down there, angel?" The heat on your face worsens when you glance up and see Toji sneering down at you, and a hand comes down to massage your cheeks. "Try lickin' it first."

You gulp before following his suggestion, opening your mouth for your tongue to flick on the frenulum of his cock. You can hear him moan from the action, so you proceed and lap around the head of his cock until you feel adventurous enough to take his glans in your mouth. Toji groans from the wet walls of your mouth, and your teeth brushing against his glans makes his body jerk. "Hmmm, be careful with y'r teeth, baby. Relax that jaw and puff those cheeks a bit fr' me."

His comments are taken wholeheartedly, making sure everything goes right for him. Your cheeks go hollow for you to suck his cockhead and take in a few more of his length, his hums of pleasure egging you on. It goes well until the tip hits your uvula, resulting in your gag reflex. And Toji is quick to gently pull you from him, your saliva coating his dick.

"Woah there, sweetie. Don't forget to breathe." He coaxes while you cough. Your eyes start to water as you gasp for air to even your breathing. "We can stop now, don't want you chokin' on— Aisssh!!."

He's unable to finish his sentence when your hand strokes his cock, paired with kisses to the underside of his shaft. "No, I can keep going." You look at him with half-lidded eyes, having the man twinge his lips upward.

"Alright, then we're gonna go slow, okay? No rush." He aligns his cock to your lips, waiting for re-entry. "I'll push, and you breathe."

You give him a nod to signal you're ready, and your mouth agape to take in his returning limb. Toji brings your head in while you remind yourself to breathe, but your body jolts when you feel the tip come almost close to your uvula again. "Relax, mama, relax. Keep taking deep breaths fr' me." He coos at you, and you do as he says. Breathe in, breathe out. Once you slowly move, Toji aids you by gently pushing the back of your head toward him. And a wave of astonishment and relief hits you when you manage to have his dick hit the back of your throat.

"There ya go, cutie." He smirks at you, aware of your tiny display of giddiness. "Now, try goin' at your own pace."

With a few bobs up and down, slowly but surely, you get used to having Toji's cock in your oral cavity, going at your own tempo and enjoying yourself with this. Your movements are filled with confidence, and you whimper every time you try to go as far as you can but not too crazy.

And Toji loves every second of it. Your moans vibrate the walls around his cock, and it turns him on even more when he peers down to see you suck on him so deliciously. Spit covers your lips the more you take him in your mouth, and he groans when he feels your hands stroking him and kneading his balls (something you've learned to do from the articles you've read). "So good...Hmmph! So fucking good..." It's been a long time since Toji's been given a blowjob, and it feels so good to have you — his sweet thing — do it for him.

But then a thought pops into his mind, and the pleasure in his body churns into a different path of want and need. "Sweetie." Your eyes flutter up at him when he calls you, stopping midway through. "Wanna go a lil' further than this?" It takes a moment for you to register, but you give a curt nod with a hum on his dick, which he can only assume is a "yes."

"I'm gonna stand up, okay? So keep taking deep breaths and follow my lead." You don't answer, only gaze at him as you mentally prepare yourself. Toji rests a hand at the rear of your head as he gets up from the couch, keeping you still on his cock in hopes you don't choke. Now he's standing upright, and his sweatpants slide down to his sturdy thighs. He places both his hands on each side of your head. "I'm gonna start moving slowly, 'kay baby?"

And so he does, unhurriedly pushing his shaft into you, and your hands find purchase on his thighs as he does so. His dick that once stopped at the back of your throat eventually finds its way deeper within, and you're senses are clouded with his smell when your nose and mouth meet his pelvis. It all feels so overwhelming that tears start to form.

Toji lets you adjust to all of him for a while, grinding his hips on your lips to fully accommodate his whole girth, prompting more muffled mewls from you. He ruts his hips at your face when he notes your steady breathing. Gradually, every inch of his cock sinks into your mouth. Your head starts to pound as you enter a haze.

The pace of his thrusts eventually goes faster and faster by the minute, and the tears finally come down with every jab to your throat. Saliva runs down your chin with the smack of his balls, the head bullying your insides with the erratic rhythm. Your nails form scratch marks on his thighs from all the stimulation you're going through, but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't feel so fucking good. Having your boyfriend's pelvis smack on your face on par with the sounds of you sucking him off felt like fire to your eardrums. So hot but so electrifying the more you indulge yourself.

As for the older man fucking the hell out of your face? Oh, how he missed this. It's been so long since he stuck his dick on such a pretty mouth. And your throat's tight, velvety walls have him rutting for more. He knew this would make his thirst return, and now he was sure an addiction would form from this. But right now, he can feel the surge of his orgasm arise, and his brows crease with a guttural groan as he thrusts into your face with harsh motions.

"Shit, ahhhhh shit, shit," It's so close, almost there. "Gonna cum, mama, gonna—Mmmm! Haaah, oh fuck, oh fuckin' Christ!" Through his moans of pleasure, Toji releases his load down your throat. And you're in no other position than to just take it, whimpering blissfully onto his length as he gives you a few more ruts to your face.

When he's done experiencing his ecstatic high, the older man withdraws himself from you. Your throat and mouth become empty except for his essence that you swallow. Strands of spit and come connect your wet face to him for a crude yet intimate moment before they break out.

He pulls up his sweatpants and drops down to wipe your pretty face with his hand. "So? Was I a good teacher?"

[clovestreet]

let me- ethan landry

an: i am absolutely FERAL for this man atm...😨i just had to write something abt him..

summary: you have been super stressed about exams lately and ethan knows the best way to make you feel better. (also this is DEFINITELY more soft ethan??) but i like that.. lol

warnings⚠ SMUT (16+), oral (f receiving), strong language

Hell on earth was organic chemistry.

Your absolute fucktard of a professor had scheduled your exam on the same day as two of your other exams. This man had it out for you.

You massaged your temple as you drummed your pencil on your notes. Your brain wasn't functioning anymore. You had been sitting at this godforsaken desk for three hours now. You needed a break.

You forced yourself out of your chair and faceplanted on your bed next to your boyfriend in defeat. You sighed into the mattress and tried to gather your thoughts.

"Something bothering you baby?" your boyfriend laughed as he rubbed small circles into your back, clearly amused by your frustration with trying to memorize aromatic compounds.

"I can't do this anymore E, "I'm actually so exhausted."

"I wish someone would just kill the stupid bastard." you groaned into your palms.

Ethan gulped and immediately froze in his movements and you weren't sure why. But then he was comforting you again like nothing had happened.

"I'm sorry baby. If it makes you feel better, I just failed my last exam."

You laughed as he pulled you closer, the grasp of his arms melting away your stress.

"Honestly, I don't know if anything could make me feel better at this point.”

“Unless you can teach me the structure of carboxylic acid." you said with your hands on his chest staring into his dark eyes.

His chest shook with laughter and it was music to your ears. Ethan was so comforting and even being in his arms took you to a place far away from your worries.

"Definitely can't do that, but I think I can take your mind off it for a little while." he murmured into your lips.

"Oh yeah? How's that?"

"Well it usually starts with my head between your legs” he says in a low whisper.

You immediately feel your cheeks flush with warmth and squeeze your legs together.

You completely froze and waited for him to finish his sentence.

“ ..And ends with you screaming my name or something like that." he says with a devilish smirk.

He grins like a lovesick bastard at your embarrassment and tilts his head down to connect his lips to yours. He smiles into the kiss and you can feel your pulse weakening at the way his tongue explores your mouth.

His lips travel down your neck and you know exactly where he's going. You pull him off of you and look him in straight in his hazy brown eyes.

You and Ethan had been together for a little over a year now and you had been intimate more times than you could even begin to remember. You still got nervous before he went down on you and you just couldn't help but feel insecure sometimes, but Ethan always made you forget about all of it when he touched you.

"E, are you sure? You really don’t have to, I-”

He immediately stops you with a confused expression on his face.

“Baby are you kidding? I live for this shit.”

“I should probably get back to studying E, I just-"

He cut you off again, this time taking your head into his hand and made sure you met his gaze.

"Fuck studying. Let me make you feel good babe."

His thumb gently brushed over your cheek as he searched your eyes for an answer.

"Ok, fine." you said softly with a shy smile on your face.

"That's my girl." he said with a grin spreading over his face as he placed the softest kiss on your lips.

His fingers danced their way over your ribs under your shirt and his lips were placing gentle kisses on your hipbones. His fingers made their way down to the waistband of your shorts and his eyes quickly glanced up to yours asking for consent. You quickly nodded your head, becoming more and more eager for him to touch you by the second.

He pulled down your shorts gently and tossed them behind him. He hooked his fingers under your lace panties and pulled them down painfully slow. Once they were off, he grabbed both of your legs and put them over his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around your legs and pulled them open.

He looked up at you through lustful eyes while licking his lips.

"I got you. Always." he said in a low whisper placing a kiss on your inner thigh.

You brushed a gentle hand over his curls and offered a weak smile to him. You could feel your anticipation for his touch becoming stronger and your legs were shaking before he even touched you.

You could feel his breath on you and you couldn't take it anymore. You wrapped your fingers in his curls and guided him onto you.

He licked up your slit as you sucked in a shaky breath. Your thighs immediately clenched around him, but his strong hands pulled your legs right back open. His tongue started to circle around your clit and your fingers were already tugging on his curls. He groaned into you and the vibration had you letting out a choked moan.

"Right there E." you gasped.

He looked up at your face contorted in pleasure and started to grind his hips onto to the bed. Ethan was the kind of boyfriend who genuinely could get off from pleasuring you and have absolutely no shame about it.

He was lost in the taste of you and you were lost in his touch. You couldn't even remember what you were stressed about in the first place. Your mind was consumed by the feeling of his tongue sloppily tasting you and swirling around your clit, the tight grip of his fingers prying open your thighs, his dark eyes peering up at you through hooded lids occasionally rolling back into his head every time you moaned his name.

His hand slid carefully down your thigh as he slipped his middle finger into you, pumping in and out at a deliciously slow pace.

Your fingers tugged harder on his curls and he practically moaned into you.

"F-feels so good E, you're so good" you whined.

"I know baby I know, I'm gonna get you there I promise." he murmured into you, pressing wet kisses on your clit.

His words made you toss your head back and your back arch off the bed.

He slipped another finger into you, pumping a little faster this time.

Your fingers loosened from Ethan's hair and slid down his bare shoulders. His fingers started to curl inside you, purposefully hitting the spot he knew would send you over the edge. You moaned loudly and your nails dug into his back.

He groaned into you so loudly it almost caught you off guard. If you hadn't known better, you would have thought you hurt him. But you knew better by now. His sounds sent you even closer to the edge.

"Come on babe, let go for me." he breathed into you.

You could feel yourself impossibly close to your high with Ethan's gaze trained on your face. The second Ethan's nose rubbed your clit you were done for.

All you could do was moan his name over and over again, your nails digging into his back sure to leave marks. He fucked you all the way through your high until you were practically dragging him off of you.

You put your hand on the back of his neck and guided him toward your lips. God, he was so beautiful, even with the taste of you glimmering all over his features. You pulled him down into a breathless kiss and brought him closer by draping your leg over his waist.

He drew back and cupped your jaw looking down at you.

"I really hope you're not thinking about studying anymore tonight, because all I want to do-"

"Shut up and kiss me Landry."

[ducktoo]

Syncing Dream [Aespa x M!Reader]

9. Reveluv

Note: hold on, you’re reading the right series. Just enjoy lol

Masterlist here

The buzz of excitement had been building for weeks. Aespa’s highly anticipated collaboration with Red Velvet was finally here, and it seemed like the entire company was on edge with excitement. But none more so than Y/n, who was—by all accounts—a certified Reveluv. He had tried to keep his enthusiasm under wraps, of course, but anyone who worked closely with him knew that his particular bias for Seulgi was impossible to hide.

As Aespa prepared for their big day, Y/n could feel the familiar nerves creeping in. Not because of the responsibility of organising such a large-scale collaboration, but because he knew he’d be in close proximity to Red Velvet’s Seulgi—the one and only.

“Y/n, you’re looking unusually peppy today,” Giselle teased, noticing his attempt to hide his excitement as they got ready in the studio.

“What? No, this is just my normal face,” Y/n mumbled, fidgeting with a clipboard.

“Uh-huh,” Ningning drawled, smirking. “Your ‘normal’ face that happens to glow whenever we mention Seulgi-unnie?”

Y/n’s ears turned red, but he didn’t have a comeback ready. He was too busy mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen: hours of rehearsals, and meetings, and potentially humiliating fanboy moments. Great.

Despite trained there at the same time as Winter, he actually never meet Red Velvet. He only became a fan when he left for a while.

So for today, he is both a manager and a Reveluv.

As the door opened and Red Velvet stepped into the studio, Y/n’s heart leaped into his throat. He could feel the energy shift as Aespa greeted their seniors with deep bows and warm smiles. Karina and Winter exchanged polite words with Irene and Joy, while Ningning and Giselle bonded instantly with Wendy and Yeri.

"Oh, Y/n-ah!" Minji, their manager, greeted him excitedly. "Finally, my first junior is working with me."

"Hi, noona. I'm excited as well." Y/n bowed. Suddenly, Minji scooted both of them into the side.

"Have fun gawking over our Seul." Minji smirked. "The girls bailed out on you for comedic relief."

"Of course they do…" Y/n muttered.

"Anyway…have fun!" Minji exclaimed before turning over to the girls. "Seulgi-ya! Can you come here please?"

"Ok!"

And then, there she was—Seulgi.

Y/n had met idols before. He had spent countless hours with Aespa and other artists, coordinating schedules, handling logistics, and ensuring everything ran smoothly. But this was different. Seulgi was, well... Seulgi.

"Seulgi, this is-"

“Y/n, right?” Seulgi smiled as she approached him, her voice as warm and friendly as he’d always imagined. "I heard from Minjeong about her hardworking best friend."

Y/n blinked, his brain short-circuiting. “Y-Yeah! I mean, yes, that’s me. I’m Y/n. Manager of Aespa. Yep, that’s who I am.”

The girls of Aespa exchanged knowing looks, barely suppressing their giggles at Y/n’s obvious awkwardness. He tried to keep his cool, reminding himself that he had a job to do. But internally, he was screaming.

Seulgi just smiled wider, clearly amused by his reaction. “Well, it’s nice to meet you officially. We’re really excited about this collaboration with our junior.”

“I-I’m excited too! Really, really excited,” Y/n blurted out before clearing his throat, hoping to regain some semblance of professionalism. “I mean, on behalf of Aespa, we’re all really looking forward to this.”

Seulgi chuckled softly before heading over to join her members, leaving Y/n standing there, frozen in place.

-

Trying to focus on logistics when Seulgi was right there was proving to be difficult. Every time Y/n glanced in her direction, his heart would skip a beat, and it didn’t help that Aespa, particularly Ningning and Giselle, seemed to be enjoying his internal struggle way too much.

“Idiot, are you okay?” Winter asked, feigning concern as she watched him fumble with the equipment setup.

“I’m fine, Jeong” Y/n muttered, clearly not fine. “Just, uh, making sure everything’s perfect for... you know... the performance.”

Karina smirked. “For the performance? Or for Seulgi-unnie?”

Y/n shot her a withering look, but the effect was lost when he nearly dropped his clipboard. Giselle and Ningning couldn’t hold back their laughter anymore, while Winter just shook her head, clearly enjoying his suffering.

"Stuff you all."

As the rehearsals went on, things only got worse. At one point, Y/n found himself standing too close to Seulgi during a break, and he nearly knocked over a mic stand trying to back away gracefully. Seulgi just laughed it off, but Y/n could feel his face burning.

At the end of the day, though, everything came together beautifully. The chemistry between Aespa and Red Velvet was electric, and the joint practice was nothing short of magical. Y/n had been so focused on keeping everything running smoothly that he had barely processed how incredible it all looked until he saw it from backstage. Watching both groups in perfect harmony, dancing and singing together, was a dream come true—not just for fans, but for him personally.

As the performance ended, Y/n stood in awe, his heart swelling with pride. Both groups had nailed it, and the crowd’s reaction was proof of that.

-

The after-dinner was a blur of get together and shared excitement. Both Aespa and Red Velvet were in high spirits, celebrating their bonds with food and laughter. Y/n, still riding the high from the practice, was doing his best to keep his cool, but the occasional glance at Seulgi kept his fanboy tendencies in check.

Ningning, however, wasn’t about to let him off that easily. “So, Y/n,” she started with a sly grin, “I saw Seulgi-unnie looking your way during practice. You should totally ask for a picture.”

Y/n blinked, caught off guard. “What? No, I can’t just... I mean… Ya Ning, it's mean to give me high hopes.”

“She’s right,” Karina chimed in, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “It’s your chance. You’ve been a fan for years, right?”

“Yeah, and we can all tell,” Giselle teased. “You’ve been holding it together pretty well today, but come on—don’t miss this.”

Before Y/n could protest, he found himself being nudged forward by the girls, his feet carrying him toward Seulgi before his brain could catch up. His heart pounded in his chest as he approached her, still unsure of what he was going to say.

“Seulgi-sunbaenim,” he started, his voice a little shaky.

She turned to him with that same warm smile, and Y/n felt his nerves melt away—just a little. “Yes, Y/n?”

“I-I was wondering,” he stammered, “if it’d be okay to take a picture with you. Just... you know, for the memories.”

Seulgi’s smile widened, and without hesitation, she agreed. “Of course! Let’s take one.”

Y/n could hardly believe it as they stood together, smiling for the camera. The girls, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t contain their giggles, knowing how much this moment meant to him.

Afterward, Y/n stared at the picture on his phone, barely able to process what had just happened. It wasn’t just a photo—it was a treasured memory, one that he knew he’d look back on for years.

-

The night continued with more laughter and celebration. Red Velvet and Aespa were mingling, the two groups bonding over their shared experience and the success of their collaboration.

At some point, Y/n found himself sitting with both groups, listening to the girls talk about their favourite moments from practice. The atmosphere was relaxed, the tension of rehearsals and preparation long gone.

Seulgi, sitting nearby, caught his eye and gave him a knowing smile. “You did great today, Y/n. It’s not easy organising something like this, but everything turned out perfect.”

Y/n, still reeling from his fanboy moment, could only nod. “Thank you, Seulgi-sunbaenim. It was... an honour.”

"Ayy, call me Seulgi-noona, now. We're way past acquaintance at this point."

"Ah ok…Seulgi-noona.."

"…Ya Seulgi, you broke him." Minji joked.

"Unnie, you're so mean." Winter followed suit.

As the evening came to a close, Y/n found himself quietly reflecting on the day (after finally coming into his sense). It had been a whirlwind of excitement and nerves, but in the end, everything had come together in ways he never expected.

He smiled to himself, the photo of him and Seulgi saved on his phone like a cherished trophy. Today had been a dream come true—and he knew that, no matter how many more events he organised in the future, this collaboration would always hold a special place in his heart.

…Of course, it doesn’t top the first picture of him and Winter smiling together when they first joined SM.

[strongheartneteyam]

I wet you like water but she stained you like blood.

Pairing: widowed!dilf!jake sully x younger!female!human!reader

CW: slight sexual language, can be triggering to some, heartbreak, age gap kink, hurt/no comfort, age gap relationship problems, angst, reader reminiscing (pls tell me if I missed anything) 

So, yeah... I never know when I'm gonna come back with another writing. My hiatus n working periods are all a bit unpredictable lol sorry. Anyways... I literally spent the whole night awake n I was struck by a sudden lightning of creativity early in the morning and I edited this chapter n wrote a bit more, but I still haven't slept at all, so, I apologize if some parts of this make no sense at all. I'll fix it when I can. Hope you guys like it <3 ily guys a whole lot :)) obs: this chapter is a shorter one.

Slightly proofread.

Chapter 4 𓆩♡𓆪

They say all's well that ends well

But I'm in a new hell every time you double-cross my mind

You said if we had been closer in age maybe it would've been fine

And that made me want to die

The idea you had of me, who was she?

A never-needy, ever-lovely jewel whose shine reflects on you

All Too Well - 10 minutes Version (Taylor Swift)

𓆩♡𓆪

It had been 1 year since the last time you saw Jacob Sully. Or Jakey, like you used to call him. The wound never healed. It still throbbed and bled every time you remembered the words he told you that dreadful day. "I think we should stop seeing each other." It felt like you would never get over him. How can one get over such an overpowering, raw feeling? He marked you forever, like a bruise that seemed to never disappear from your skin.

The flashback came like thunder in a storm, haunting your thoughts with a loud pain that echoed through your mind. What you told Jake that night.

“The truth is I love you. The truth is I can't take this anymore. I'm giving you my everything but you don't seem to be doing the same. You're still guarded.” There was a tense period of silence “Jake… I love you. But I don't think you feel the same.”

Maybe you shouldn't have said anything. Maybe if you had kept your mouth shut, he would still be with you.

Ugh!! Stop that, now, (y/n)! Some self love, please? You're better than this. You deserve better.

You tried to convince yourself of that, at least.

The pain was unbearable at times and almost easy to conceal at other times. It depended on how distracted with work or your studies you were. These days you ran to any distraction that could ease the perpetual angst that squeezed your heart inside its hands all the fucking time. It had been like that ever since Jake left you. What were you expecting anyway? You should have known you were never truly loved by Jake. The love of his life was Neytiri and it would always be, alive and walking through Pandora or dead and with Eywa.

It felt beyond weird to have to hear people talking about Jake and have to pretend he was a stranger to you, someone you barely knew, when he had actually left a mark so strong on you, a memory ingrained in your brain, a feeling, a pain buried inside your heart that made you want to scream and hit your head against a wall. That's how much it hurt.

You would never have his body against yours again, warming you up when it was cold, after you spent the whole day in that damn lab, studying Pandoran plants but all you could really concentrate on was how much you missed his reassuring, protective presence. He made you feel safe for the first time in your life. But now he is gone. Just like every single good thing you ever had in your life. But you know what? Maybe your mother was right, maybe love wasn't really something that could ever last forever.

Did Jake ever really make a real effort to be with you? Thinking back, it was extremely easy for him to just come to you and fuck you anytime he felt sad and lonely. What if you had just been a naive, dumb girl all this time? Were you mourning a love that never actually existed? It was always so hard to talk to him about his feelings for you, he never actually let you in, to be honest. All the time you two spent together, you were never able to know if he ever saw you as a partner or just a fuck buddy. 

Oh, but the high… it was worth all the lows. The butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were almost caught fucking in the back of your work room by Norm. Eventually you guys had to tell him about your situationship because, oh well… he already knew what was going on, really. Norm is not a fool or a child. He could add 2 plus 2.

The adrenaline was worth all the tears. And, fuck… you would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

𓆩♡𓆪

Taglist:

@aonungsoneandonly

@coldbabyheroin

@fairyyrosee

@myh3artttt

@explosiongamora

@ufiy

@yeosxxx

@happyyappysworld

@avatar4eva

@henhouse-horrors

@jakesullyfatjuicypeen

@fujimoribaby

@layla2-49

@zoetrope1997

@yeosxxx

@luvv4j4ybe11

@bakugouswaif

@slytherdor01

[imaginespazzi]

Part 3: Shades of Grey

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

That's the thing about illicit affairs (they lie and they lie and they lie)

(In which a masochistic writer makes things difficult for herself and makes things even messier than they were before)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Pining, a little bit of Hurt/Comfort and Fluff as always

Words: 7.2K (nice and short as always)

TW: Explicit Sexual Content (MINORS DNI), Swearing, Cheating

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 I feel like I'm doing a pretty good job of sticking to my deadlines, who woulda thunk it? Fun fact, I'm at ~ 50 google-doc pages with this fic and despite my constant "trying to write less" rants, I'm actually lowkey proud of that. Anyways, there's a pretty clear hint (I am not a subtle person) as to why what happens at the end happens and if you pick up on it, I promise it'll save you from losing your minds till I write part 4. Also a couple of logistical details about the Cayman Islands are probably off but it's what worked so it's what I did, just pretend lol. Per usual, I did edit, there's probably still typos any way, feel free to point them out. And as always, let me know what you liked, what you didn't and what you'd like to see in the future. Happy reading and have a wonderful rest of your week lovelies!

August 2021

The fight was inevitable but neither of them can tell you what really lit the flame. One second they had been fine (well as fine as two girls who knew tonight was their last night in a while could be), the next they were hurling bullets at each other. There’s a subconscious part of Azzi’s brain that tells her to grab Paige and duck for cover, to preserve whatever little bit of friendship they can. But her whole body vibrates with anger as Paige’s words crash around her like a tsunami, drowning out the good angel on her shoulder that’s pleading with her to stop. 

“It’s a good thing really. You and your non-existent nerves would have never survived playing for UConn,” Paige sneers, and that mean smirk on her face just doesn’t quite fit right, “I don’t know what I was thinking with that honestly. You’re not built like that.”

Azzi flinches, eyes blazing, “some of us want to be more than just another good UConn player.”

“That’s what all the people not good enough to play for UConn say,” Paige retorts bitterly and Azzi doesn’t think she knows this girl standing in front of her, one whose words are aimed to make her cry instead of laugh. 

“Not good enough and yet you still wanted me on your team.”

“Nah you know what, my bad, I didn’t realise you’d fucking stab me in the back like that, ” Paige hisses, “you’re a fake as fuck friend and you’d probably make a shit teammate.”

Azzi’s never had a heart attack. She doesn’t even fully think she knows what a heart attack really is. But she’s certain this pain in her chest can’t possibly be anything less than one. It starts at her heart and then spreads to her lungs and then floods through her body, until she can’t move, she can’t breathe. 

“You don’t mean that,” she whispers. 

Paige hesitates, as if suddenly aware of the fragility of the moment, her voice considerably softer when she speaks but she doesn’t take it back, “ real friends choose each other.”

“Oh my god,” Azzi laughs, it’s the worst thing she could do in the moment and Paige’s eyes flash with anger, “you’re so fucking full of yourself.”

“Watch your fucking mouth-”

“Don’t you even dare. You say all that shit to me and now you can’t hear some of it back? Contrary to what you might think Paige, my whole life doesn’t revolve around you. My decision for where to spend the next four fucking years, does not revolve around you,” Azzi’s voice rises with each word. 

Fighting is cathartic in a way. They’ve spent almost a year delicately tip-toeing around the subject, growing further and further apart and yet still holding on for dear life. And Azzi doesn’t want to let go, but everything feels burning hot, and her hands are starting to blister. 

“Oh you’ve made that very clear,” Paige bites back, “you’ve made it very clear just how little I mean to you.”

“Because I chose a different school? That’s all it took Paige, seriously? That’s all it took for you to call our friendship fake?”

“No what it took Azzi was you being a fucking liar.”

“I didn’t lie about anything.”

Paige scoffs, her voice taking on a pitchy mocking tone, “ ‘I’d love to play with you Paige’, ‘being on the same team would be nice P’,  all of that fucking bullshit when you didn’t mean any of it.”

“Oh we’re playing that game,” Azzi seethes, “how about ‘Az I’d support you no matter what’ huh? Where did all of that go?”

“Maybe if you didn’t make stupid decisions then.”

“No, actually choosing not to play with you might have been my smartest decision yet,” as soon as the words are out, there’s a part of Azzi that wishes she could wrench them back in. 

“Right,” Paige’s voice is eerily quiet now, “well I hope that works out well for you then. Go to UCLA Azzi, have a great fucking life and stay the fuck away from mine.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Azzi takes a cautious step towards the blonde and almost immediately, Paige steps backwards, her expression suddenly blank. The change to indifference is somehow worse than the previous malice, “Paige-”

“Fuck this, I’m going home,” Paige says resolutely, her fingers fidgeting with themselves as she reaches for her phone and wallet. 

“We need to talk this out, we need to try and fix this,” Azzi all but pleads, trying to position herself in front of the persistent older girl who’s trying to make her way to the door. 

“I don’t know if I want to fucking fix this,” Paige yells, shaking away Azzi’s hand on her shoulder, “I don’t know if it’s worth it,” her voice breaks as she says the next words, “I don’t even think  I wanna be friends.”

When Azzi’s 14, Paige Bueckers dribbles through a USA basketball camp court straight into her life and teaches her all about how one person can come into your life and carve out a permanent shelf. When Azzi’s 16, Paige’s casual smiles and not-so-insignificant touches teach her all about the complicated space in-between just friends and something more. When Azzi’s 18, Paige says those words, ones that sound a lot like giving up, and teaches Azzi that sometimes in life, even the people you thought would never make you feel this way, are the ones who'll break you the most. And that’s the day Azzi makes a promise to herself that she’ll never give someone that part of herself again, unaware that when she’s 20, Paige will teach her that some promises are meant to be broken. 

***

July 2023

Azzi doesn’t know what god she pissed off to get herself into this position, stuck in a booth with Zoe on one side and Paige on the other. Her girlfriend’s left hand is placed firmly on her thigh and Azzi has to fight the vehement urge to shake it away because Zoe’s normally soft, sweet touch feels itchy and heavy. But the way Paige’s biceps are pressed against hers might be even worse. Every time the blonde moves a little, the sliding of her smooth skin against Azzi’s arms, sends a jolt of electricity through her veins. And Azzi doesn’t know when she became that girl, the girl who already has someone to hold her but is desperately craving somebody else’s touch. 

When people’s girlfriends surprise them with an unexpected visit, the appropriate reaction is to be overwhelmed with happiness. Except since she’d met her, Azzi’s summers have always belonged to Paige. With them having lived in separate states most of their lives, it was the one time they got to be with each other for an extended period of time. It was an unspoken rule really, one that they had subconsciously still followed the year before when Azzi had shown up at Paige’s door, even if they’d only gotten the last couple of weeks of the season; summer was theirs. So, when Zoe had shown up that afternoon with a bright smile and shining eyes, all Azzi had been able to register was a sense of loss as Paige pulled her hand out of Azzi’s. 

Introductions had been somewhat awkward. Her parents knew of Zoe, but hadn’t met her yet. They were nice of course, her dad pulling the shorter girl into one of his bear hugs and her mom giving her a warm smile. Jon and José were more awkward, nodding their greetings but making no move to actually welcome her. Paige had managed to muster up a smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and shake the other girl’s outstretched hand. And then there was Drew, whose normally goofy smile seemed to have disappeared. 

“Who are you?” the young boy had asked quizzically, his eyebrows crinkling together. 

“Oh umm, I’m uh- Azzi’s girlfriend,” Zoe had replied, the last word causing Paige to involuntarily flinch. 

Drew had looked over to Azzi then, his eyes wide and accusing, “you can’t be Azzi’s girlfriend.”

“Is that so?” Zoe hummed, clearly not taking him seriously. 

“It is,” Drew had said petulantly, ignoring Paige’s warning squeeze, “she’s Paige’s.”

The silence after had been deafening, as Azzi tried to stop herself from choking on air. Eventually Paige had regained her senses first, apologising for her younger brother’s lack of filter (“he says stupid things all the time”) and then Azzi’s dad had swooped in before things could possibly get any more awkward, proposing that they all go out to dinner. And that’s how Azzi has ended up here, shuffled in a booth, opposite her parents, with Paige on one side and Zoe on the other. Life really and truly isn’t on her side these days. 

“So girls, what are y’all pizza orders?” Tim asks jovially. Azzi’s brothers and Drew, desperate to go enjoy the sun (and avoid Zoe), had already told them their orders before zooming to the park right outside the restaurant. 

“Oh uh- Az you wanna share a Margherita pizza?”

“Azzi and I’ll just have our usual.”

It’s as if the world wants Azzi to suffer as both Zoe and Paige immediately look at her expectantly. The girl in question keeps her eyes focused on the menu in front of her, unsure how to best handle this predicament by doing anything other than maybe just running out of the restaurant. 

“What’s your usual?” Zoe asks, her voice all curiosity and no ill-intent. 

“Grilled chicken and bacon with spinach and onions.”

“But Azzi doesn’t like onions, she says they make-”

“They make her breath smell I know,” there’s a hard edge to Paige’s voice, “but she-”

“She can’t pick them off. She can’t pick anything off of her pizza because it takes-”

“It takes the cheese off, I know that too. That’s not what I was going to say. She doesn’t eat them because she thinks they make her breath smell but she does like them. It’s just-,” Paige’s eyes flare with mischief, “she only eats them around people who are close to her. Guess you’re not quite there yet.”

Since Azzi had mustered up the courage to finally tell Paige about Zoe, right before summer break started, Paige had been nothing but respectful, supportive even. Until tonight apparently and Azzi doesn’t even know to react to the fact that her best friend has started a pissing contest over fucking onions. 

“Right,” Zoe bites her lips, her ever-present smile slipping slightly as she slowly pries the menu out of Azzi’s hands and looks at her with hopefully eyes, “but we’ll get the Margherita tonight babe?”

“I-” and Azzi really should say yes, side with Zoe like the good girlfriend she is, except, well, all she can think about is that Paige hasn’t smiled since the California girl had arrived in D.C., “I think um- I’ll stick to my usual Zo, I’m sorry.”

She’s a terrible girlfriend, because immediately Zoe’s smile fades, and Azzi barely notices it, too busy watching Paige’s grin light up her face. Her baby blue eyes sparkle as if she’s won some important battle and it’s not even dark yet, but Azzi swears it feels like the stars have come out. 

“Okay,” Tim says slowly, looking between the three younger girls, as he waives over the waitress, “if that’s decided then.”

The issue with Paige being pretty, is that nobody’s really immune to it, including the cheerful waitress that practically skips over to serve them. Her eyes glaze over a little bit as they roam across the blonde’s face and then to her arms before drifting down to her torso. Paige’s tank top doesn’t leave much to the imagination, exposing both her muscled biceps and toned torso and Azzi doesn’t need an x-ray to know the widely appropriate thoughts going through the waitress’s head. The feral roar of mine takes birth in her stomach and the quieting whisper of she’s not does little to subdue it. 

“I’m Libby,” the waitress says, tongue darting across her lips, eyes solely focused on Paige, “and I’ll be your server today.”

Libby collects orders dutifully, polite and agreeable, but doesn’t once fully look away from the blonde, practically drooling once she finally gets to her, “and what can I get for you to drink babe?” 

Azzi’s not sure whether it’s the sultry tone or the nickname that gets Paige’s attention, but all of a sudden her best friend is staring up at the waitress with her own flirty smile. She likes to think she’s not a particularly violent person, but Azzi thinks she might end up in jail for homicide tonight. 

“Well babe,” Paige winks, Azzi wants to die, “what would you recommend?”

Libby smirks, clearly feeling triumphant as she leans on the table, one hand reaching out to brush Paige’s forearm, “sex on the beach.”

Several things happen at once. Tim chokes on a breadstick. Katie immediately thumps him on the back. Zoe lets out a laugh. Azzi’s nails break the skin of her palm, drawing blood as she fists both of hands. And then-

“She has a girlfriend,” it’s a blatantly untrue but all Azzi can think about is stopping this  random girl from eye-fucking her Paige. It does the trick, Libby’s eyes go comically wide, as she steps back from the table, from Paige. 

“She does?” Tim asks. Next to him, Katie, shoots her daughter a knowing look that veers on the edge of disappointment. 

Azzi stutters under the heat of Paige’s glare, the blonde clearly unamused by her lie, “I uh- I mean um- it’s not official but um yeah,” she doesn’t even sound convincing to herself, “I’m uh- I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

She practically shoves Paige out of the booth so she can climb out of it herself, adrenaline pumping through her veins. Her heart hammers in her chest and she tries to block out the sound of Paige’s being questioned by her dad, as she rushes into the restroom. 

There’s no amount of water she could splash on her face to make this heat go away, but she tries anyway, unsure of when the tap water starts to blend in with the tears streaming down her face. The unsettling anger of how dare she flirt with another girl beating in her heart is replaced by the guilt of i’m not allowed to feel this way thrashing around her rib cage. It hurts all the same, as Azzi clutches her chest, trying to even out her breathing.

She doesn’t hear the door open or close until, “What the fuck was that?”

“Get out,” Azzi whispers, closing her eyes and leaning her head on the mirror, “just give me a second okay?”

“Oh no, no, no, you owe me a huge fucking explanation right now,” Paige hisses, “what the fuck was that bullshit? I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“It was a joke-” before Azzi can even finish the sentence, there’s a hand on her biceps, forcing her to turn around. When she opens her eyes, Paige’s face is far too close to her own and when she tries to move back, she’s trapped with the cool edge of the sink. It’s too much, the proximity, the tension, the lingering touch of Paige’s fingers curled around her arm. 

“Stop lying,” Paige bites out. 

“It just slipped out babe,” and fuck, Azzi absolutely hadn’t meant to add that last part, hadn’t meant to make it so obvious what exactly had triggered her little outburst. Realisation flashes across Paige’s face, as she takes a step back, letting go of Azzi, and the distance should be freeing, but instead it just makes her feel lost.  

“That’s what this is about?” the blonde asks in disbelief. 

“Yes- no- I don’t know, okay,” Azzi’s voice is high-pitched, “I’m sorry okay. I’ll tell the waitress it was a joke,” she lets out a humourless laugh, “I didn’t mean to fucking cockblock you.”

“Cockblock me? Dude I wasn’t trying to fuck the waitress what the fuck?”

“Could’ve fooled me babe,” Azzi sneers. 

Something menacing flashes in Paige’s eyes, “stop calling me that.”

“What? You don’t like me calling you babe. You didn’t seem to have a problem when it was her.” 

“Oh my fucking god Azzi,” Paige throws her hands up, “you don’t get to do this. Not when your girlfriend is sitting right there.”

The reminder of Zoe is like being splashed with cold water and Azzi feels everything inside of her freeze. She grips the edge of the sink, trying to find some semblance of balance as Paige continues to glare at her. 

“For the past few hours, I have had to hear your girlfriend call you every fucking nickname in the book. I have had to watch her kiss you and move your hair back and grip your fucking knee under the table,” with every sentence, Paige inches closer and closer, until she’s accentuating every word by pushing her index finger into Azzi’s chest, “and you can’t even fucking deal with me calling some other girl babe?”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers when Paige’s voice breaks on the last word. Their faces are so close, she can feel the other girl’s uneven breathing all over her skin. And it takes everything in her to not cave in and reach a hand out to caress away the tear that's threatening to fall from the blonde’s tearline. 

“It’s been hell Azzi,” Paige spits out, “so you don’t get to be upset if I want to fuck someone-”

Something snaps and before Paige can complete the offending sentence, before she can imprint an image that will forever haunt Azzi’s mind, Azzi silences all the warning bells of why she really shouldn’t, and pulls her best friend into a searing kiss. Immediately, Paige’s hands come to rest against Azzi’s hips, pressing her firmly against the edge of the sink. It’s as if they’re trying to meld their bodies together, both of them gripping each other as close as possible. Outside, it’s a summer evening of clear blue skies, but here in this random restaurant restroom, lightning strikes.

Paige bites at Azzi’s bottom lip and then traces her tongue over the bruise she’s created, smirking when it elicits a gasp from the younger girl. Lips still firmly moving against Azzi’s, her hands work expertly on the buttons of Azzi’s tight shorts. The sensation of everything Paige is all-consuming and Azzi feels like she’s drunk on the taste of her best friend’s skin, as she moves away from Paige’s lips, to pepper kisses on her neck, before moving down to suck a mark into her collarbone. Mine, mine, mine. 

“Fuck Az,” Paige moans when Azzi’s teeth grate against her skin and it’s the brunette’s turn to smirk. But her cockiness is short-lived when Paige’s fingers finally find their way into her now unbuttoned shorts. They press down on her clit through her underwear, making her whine. 

A cry of “Paige,” escapes her lips when the blonde slides Azzi’s panties to the side, her middle and index finger beginning to rub circles around the younger girl’s clit in a tantalisingly slow rhythm. 

“So wet, so fucking wet for me,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with want, as she brings her free hand to cup Azzi’s jaw, forcing her best friend to look her in the eyes. It scares Azzi, the sheer amount of emotion she can see swirling in the blonde’s eyes. There’s lust and then there’s something else, another l-word that she can’t bring herself to acknowledge, knowing it’ll ruin her, ruin them. 

“Please,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, as the older girl’s fingers slip from her clit to tease against her soaking entrance, dipping into her folds but not giving her what she wants. 

“If you want something baby,” Paige traces Azzi’s lips with her thumb, “you have to ask for it.”

Azzi's hands moved away from where they had been firmly gripping Paige’s waist, to wrap around her neck. She bites softly against Paige’s left earlobe, eliciting a low groan, before bringing her lips as close to the blonde’s ears as she can, “I want you to fuck me.”

It’s all it takes, Paige finally gives Azzi what her body’s so desperately craving, for far longer than she’s willing to admit, pumping two fingers into her pussy, while her thumb stimulates her clit. And fuck, Paige knows exactly what she’s doing, fingers curling in the exact right spots and Azzi feels like she’s floating or flying or falling, maybe all of the above. 

“Please, please, please,” Azzi babbles incoherently, burying her face in the crevice of Paige’s neck, tears beginning to blur her vision. Because, it’s too much, the ecstasy, the fact that it’s Paige behind the ecstasy, the fact that this is better than her wildest fantasies. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige praises, fingers starting to move faster, “taking my fingers so fucking well Az, think you can handle one more?”

Azzi whines in response. Paige pushes in a third finger, both of them letting out identical sighs of pleasure. She’s slow for a second, giving Azzi time to adjust but-

“Fuck, Paige, faster, please,” the younger girls moans, grinding fervently, desperately,  against Paige’s fingers, trying to create more fiction. 

“Anything for you Az,” Paige whispers, and even in the high of the moment, Azzi knows those words are about more than sex, “whatever you want.”

As Paige’s fingers begin to move at a rapid pace, curling around her g-spot, over and over and over, Azzi can feel that familiar pressure building in her stomach. Her fingers claw at Paige’s neck in warning, too worked up for words. Paige nudge’s Azzi’s face out of her neck, free hand cupping the younger girl's jaw. 

“Come apart for me baby,” she whispers before pressing their lips together. 

Azzi’s hips stutter as her orgasm rolls all over her, pussy clenching around Paige’s fingers, as she moans into the older girl's mouth. Spent, her body goes limp, her best friend’s  firm grip pressing her against the edge of the sink, the only thing anchoring her and keeping her uprights. Paige slowly pulls her fingers out of Azzi’s pants and the loss of contact feels wrong. It’s instinct really, as Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand and brings it up to her mouth, sucking each of the older girl’s fingers clean one by one, and it’s worth it for the way Paige looks wrecked. 

“Az-” she begins softly, eyes filled with questions but before Azzi can even think about any answers- 

“Azzi,” reality crashes and burns around the two girls as Zoe’s voice calls out for her girlfriend. The sound of footsteps gets closer and closer. Panic takes the place of pleasure as Paige and Azzi jump apart from each other and the realisation of their surroundings hits both of them at the same time. Sweat sheens against Paige’s collarbone and Azzi’s lips are bruised, her eyes still glazy. Their identical dishevelled demeanour gives away far too much. Just as the restroom door creaks open a little, Azzi dives into one of the stalls. 

“Oh, hey Paige,” guilt pools in Azzi’s stomach at the sound of Zoe’s innocent voice, as she presses her ear against the stall door,  “is Azzi in here? She’s been gone for like 20 minutes.”

“She- she was,” Paige stutters, and Azzi hates herself even more for putting her best friend in this position, “I-uh I think she um- she wanted some fresh air.”

“Ah okay, I’ll go try and find her,” Zoe pauses, “are you okay? You look a little flustered.”

“Me? Oh yeah, I’m fine,” Paige assures in a high-pitched voice, “just uh miss my girlfriend you know.”

Azzi flinches at the lie. She’d made such a fucking mess today. The lying, the cheating, all of it was so out of character and all of a sudden, she feels dirty. Tears brim in her eyes as she begins to process the gravity of what she’d done. And perhaps the worst part of it, is that she can’t find it in herself to fully regret it. If she could turn back time, she doesn’t know if she’d do anything different. Because when it comes to Paige, Azzi’s fine living in shades of grey. 

“Yeah, I didn’t know you had a girlfriend,” Zoe says slowly. 

There’s a pause and Azzi knows the words neither did I are floating in Paige's mind before she answers, “yeah, it’s uh- it’s new.”

“That’s good. I’m happy for you,” the sincerity in Zoe’s words hit like stones, rupturing whatever built up image of i am a good person Azzi had ever had of herself

“Thank you,” Paige replies quietly. 

“It just-,” Zoe draws in a breath, “Azzi she- she worries about you a lot you know. Even before- you know- when you guys weren’t- you know? Like I think she thinks about you a lot,” there’s an unmistakable wistfulness in Zoe’s voice, “ like- if you’re doing okay and all that. And I don’t- I don’t even know you but I know she wants you to be happy- and- and I want whatever Azzi wants- so- so if you’re happy- that’s good.”

“That’s- that’s really sweet of you,” Paige sounds as guilty as Azzi feels.

There’s quiet for a minute until, “do you think I make her happy? Does she- does she talk about me?”

Zoe’s voice is laced in insecurity and hopefulness and Azzi wishes she’d never brought this girl into her mess in the first place. The sun-kissed Californian had been a classmate who had accidentally stumbled upon Azzi mid-breakdown on a random Thursday. One second she was hesitant, the next she was spilling her woes to a stranger, tired of holding it in. And from then on Zoe had been on a mission to just be there. She’d never hidden her intention, always clear that she wanted more than friendship and Azzi, despite knowing that her heart didn’t really have space for anyone else, had let her loneliness be her guide and given in to the urge to just let someone hold her. But the truth is that while every other second spent with Zoe was filled with mentions of Paige’s name, every moment spent with Paige was never about anything else other than her. 

“She- she does, she seems happy,” Paige can’t bring herself to say the with you. The blonde sounds defeated, as if the admission that Azzi could possibly be happy with someone else has taken everything out of her. 

“Good, it means a lot,” Zoe’s voice is lighter now, like there’s a smile hidden in it, “especially from you. Thank you. I’ll uh- I’ll go see if I can find her.”

Azzi waits for the sound of footsteps shuffling and then the sound of the door clicking behind Zoe, before prying herself out of the stall. Paige is hunched over the sink, face buried in her hands. And the words my fault, my fault, my fault imprint themselves all over Azzi’s heart. 

“Your girlfriend’s looking for you,” Paige says, not bothering to look up. 

“Paige I-”

“Just go Azzi, we’ll just” Paige scoffs, “we’ll just play pretend again,” the walls are up again and Paige is unreachable in her castle built from the ashes of the purity in their friendship that they’d just sacrified for a fucking quickie in a barely-lit restroom. And maybe Azzi should say something, maybe she should stay and see if she can fight her way into Paige’s castle. But Azzi’s no knight in shining armour, not Paige’s, not Zoe’s, not anybody else’s because knights don’t cheat and they don’t lie and they don’t break people’s hearts. So she listens to what her best friend says, she walks out, and she pretends she doesn’t hear the sob that’s let out behind her. 

***

November 2023

UCLA is up on UConn, it should be a pretty momentous occasion and it is. Azzi’s had one of the best games of her career to get her team mere seconds away from getting their first win over the powerhouse. For UConn, so has Paige, except there’s nothing but frustration gleaming in the blonde’s face. The game had been bad for UConn, the cracks created by injuries on full display. And the competitor in Azzi was more than happy to take advantage of that. But the part of her that was Paige’s best friend was stuck on how tired Paige looked. Someone fucking help her, Azzi had thought throughout the game, she literally just came back from injury. 

The outcome of the game is clear and Azzi’s already on the bench getting rest, cheering for her own team of course, but keeping a subtle eye on what’s happening with Paige. Azzi’s eyes follow Paige as she’s finally subbed out. The older girl walks to the end of her own bench, hands coming to rest on her thighs as she hangs her head, face scrunched up in irritation. Paige does that thing where it's like she’s trying to bite of all the skin on her lips and Azzi has the familiar urge to march over and make her stop, preferably by kissing her, not that that’s a thought she’s allowed to have. 

It’s ironic really, the 2,943 miles that had once been the reason they’d fallen apart, is the only thing holding them together. Being out of each other’s reach makes it easier to ignore what had happened over the summer, makes it easier to not give into that same vice all over again. And it makes sense, Azzi thinks, because since she’s met her, whenever Paige had just been a blurry goofy face on her screen, they’d been good at the just friends thing. The moment they could touch though, that’s when lines got blurry. As much as Azzi’s not sure how she survived a year without Paige, she’s even less sure about how she’d survived that one year where they’d practically lived in each other’s skins. 

Things in the handshake line are somewhat icy with both teams being overprotective of their star players. Muhl’s eyes are full of disdain once she reaches Azzi and Arnold barely shakes her hand, only doing as much as she has to, to keep up appearance. Azzi’s teammates aren’t any better, Angelica smiles at everyone until she reaches Paige, and Kiki rolls her eyes at the point guard. But it doesn’t matter what anybody else does, not when Paige practically falls into Azzi’s arms, her tense body finally beginning to relax a little. 

“You did good,” Azzi whispers into the blonde’s hair, tightening her hold on the other girl as she soothingly strokes her back.

Paige scoffs, burying her face further into Azzi’s neck, “you did good, I did what I had to.”

They break apart reluctantly, the shutter of cameras ruining the intimacy of the moment. Their hands hold on a touch longer but the minute they finally slip away from each other, the familiar feeling of i’m tired of missing you that seems to always be lingering within Azzi, prickles against her heart. 

*** 

UConn and UCLA don’t have a rivalry but if you were sat at the hotel restaurant in the Cayman Islands on a lovely November evening, you wouldn’t know that. There’s multiple women’s basketball teams present at the restaurant and everyone’s mingling with each other but the Bruins and Huskies seem determined to avoid each other at all costs. At one point, Angelica and Muhl, of course it would be them, accidentally bump into each other and Azzi holds her breath at the icy glare shared between them. She’s not sure how she and Paige ended up with something akin to the women’s basketball version of the Montagues and the Capulets, but it seems fitting with the way her life’s been going, that it would eventually start to take the shape of a tragedy.

It’s around 10pm when Azzi notices Paige moving in the direction of the door, towards the beach. Azzi hesitates for a moment, knowing her need to go after the blonde isn't just one born out of a best friend’s concern, but it’s Paige. It doesn’t matter if there’s inevitable destruction on the other side, it’s Paige and when it’s Paige, Azzi will follow. 

Paige’s silhouette on the beach, glowing underneath the moonlight, with waves crashing onto the shore beyond her, is straight out of a dream. Azzi’s not an artist by any means, but she thinks if she were, this moment would be her muse. The sea wind causes Paige’s hair to flutter with it. Her eyes are closed in concentration, knees pressed against her heaving chest as she takes in deep breaths of salty air. Azzi traipses across the sand, sandals in hand, before falling to the ground next to the other girl. A whisper of a smile is the only acknowledgement Paige offers her as they let a comfortable silence glide over them. 

“It would be nice to live here,” Paige says after a moment, “it’s peaceful.”

“Except when it storms,” Azzi surmises. 

“It’s not peaceful anywhere when it storms,” Paige counters matter-of-factly, “can you just let me have my moment?

“Right, right, continue.”

“Well now I don’t want to.”

Azzi laughs. Paige grins. It’s so easy. It’s so fucking scary. 

“Why’d you leave the restaurant?” Azzi asks cautiously. 

“Fresh air.”

“And?”

Paige sighs, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt, “it’s gonna be a long season.”

“It always feels like that at the beginning.”

“I know- it’s just- after last year- I just thought it would be different. We’d show the world this time. Be like the other UConn teams of the past. Maybe I just wanted something easier.”

“No you didn’t,” Azzi nudges Paige’s shoulder, “you’ve never wanted easy in your goddamn life Paige. If it’s not a challenge, then it’s not for you. Because you’re God’s strongest soldier, and He’ll give you  his hardest battles, right?”

“Right, but sometimes I just don’t feel so strong.”

“Remember what I said in LA? It’s okay to feel that way P. It’s okay to feel however you feel. Let yourself breathe sometimes, it’s good for you. Fall down, let things go, just- remember to get back up and hold on again. It’ll get better, I promise.”

“You always say the right things,” Paige says quietly, and then even quieter, she whispers under her breath, “you make it so hard Az.”

Azzi’s not fully sure what that means. She’s not sure she wants to. Instead she tangles her and Paige’s fingers together, ignoring the way it feels a little too right,  and lets them fall back into a peaceful quiet.

“So,” Paige begins again, after a couple of minutes, “Zoe didn’t make the trip here?”

I’m holding your hand and you’re thinking about my girlfriend. Maybe you’re a better person than me. 

“She can’t just leave all her schoolwork and follow me wherever,” Azzi says, trying to keep the defensiveness out of her voice. It’s true except the part where Zoe had asked if she wanted her there and Azzi hadn’t been able to give her the enthusiastic yes she wanted, starting an unspoken argument that quashed any chance of a nice romantic island getaway for the two of them. 

“She did for the Elite 8 last-” Paige bites her tongue. 

“How did you-,” Azzi’s brain feels dizzy with confusion, “how could you know that? You left- after the Sweet 16, you- how did you know Zoe was there?”

“I didn’t leave,” Paige keeps her eyes adamantly on the ocean, “the team wanted to stay longer,” that’s a lie, Azzi knows her too well, “and so I stayed and you know me, I love watching hoops so I uh- I watched your game.”

“You were there,” Azzi whispers more to herself than Paige at this point. She’d been so sure she was just hallucinating, her heart trying to trick itself into seeing what it wanted to see, “why didn’t you tell me you were there? Why didn’t you come see me after the game?”

“I did- fuck Azzi- I did-”

“Where? I would’ve seen- I didn’t see-” 

“I saw you,” Paige cuts through Azzi’s frantic questioning, her voice heavy with unspoken emotions as she continues to refuse to look at the younger girl, “you and Zoe. Together.”

“Paige-”

“After the game, you were looking for someone in the stands and I- I thought maybe you were looking for your parents but then I saw you- with her- outside the locker room and- it hit me that- that you were looking for her,” Paige spits the last word out as it feels like lava on her tongue. 

In the grand scheme of things, maybe Azzi should let Paige keep this misconception, maybe it would make things simpler if she let Paige believe in the idea that there was someone else Azzi sought out when she was struggling. But- 

“I thought I saw you,” Azzi breathes out, “I should have been looking for Zoe but-” she has to draw in a breath when Paige whips around, piercing blue eyes that feel like they can see straight into Azzi’s soul, “Paige, I was looking for you-”

The last bit of sound is stolen away from Azzi as Paige’s lips crash onto hers. And it’s so different from summer and that wretched bathroom. Something softer, more gentle, but still desperate and passionate. Time slows down, as Azzi pulls Paige into her lap, hands caressing her waist, mouths still moving against each other with perfect rhythm. They only pull away when air becomes a necessity, resting their forehead against each other, as they breathe in sync. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Azzi whispers, moving a strand of hair out the blonde’s face. 

The way Paige blushes is everything, “stop.”

“You are,” Azzi insists, pressing a kiss against the corner against the edge of her lips, “you’re perfect P.”

If she goes blind tomorrow, in the next second even, Azzi thinks that would be okay. As long as this, Paige with her soft Azzi smile, looking at her with that sparkle in her eyes, face illuminated by the shine of the stars, is the last thing Azzi sees. 

Slowly Paige climbs off of her, stretching out a hand to pull Azzi up. 

“You don’t have a roommate right?,” she asks with a soft smirk that transforms into a shy grin when Azzi nods. And this isn’t a version of Paige that Azzi's ever met before, so different from her cocky loud best friend, but she’d like to learn her all the same. 

The hotel staff probably think they’re a little drunk as they giggle their way to Azzi’s hotel room. Azzi barely manages to get the door open, before Paige’s lips are all over her again, drifting everywhere from her lips to her neck to her collarbone. 

“Off, off, off,” Paige urges, hands pulling away Azzi’s shirt and she can’t help but giggle at the older girl’s impatience. She keeps her eyes firmly on Paige as she unhooks her bra, smirking as her best friend’s eyes glaze over. Paige moves to touch her, and Azzi moves back immediately. 

“Nuh huh. I show you mine, you show me yours.”

“You’re so fucking annoying,” Paige groans but does as she’s told, discarding her shirt and Azzi’s smirk widens. She moves towards Paige, slowly tracing her tongue down the older girl’s neck. 

“Am I?” Azzi whispers, as she backs her best friend onto the bed. Paige’s eyes follow her every movement as Azzi slowly slides down Paige’s pants, and then her underwear. She runs a finger down Paige’s soaked folds, causing the other girl’s body to shiver, “so wet already, for someone so annoying?”

“Fuck y-” Paige cuts herself off with a groan, when Azzi’s fingers find her sensitive clit.

Settling herself in between the older girl's legs, Azzi grazes her teeth against Paige’s left thigh, satisfied when it makes the other girl’s breath hitch,  “if I’m so annoying maybe I should go?”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige warns breathlessly, head propped up against Azzi’s pillows. 

“That’s what I thought,” Azzi smirks, as she peppers kisses up Paige’s thighs, her right thumb lazily flickering against Paige’s clit. 

“You’re such a fucking tease,” Paige lets out a frustrated whine, “just fuck me already.”

Azzi bites down hard against Paige’s thigh, wanting to leave a mark in the one place no one would ever see it, before looking up at Paige, “whatever you want.”

Paige’s entire body writhes as Azzi fucks her tongue into Paige’s pussy, building pace with every thrust. One hand fists around the sheets, as the other moves to grab at Azzi’s head, trying to guide her in deeper. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck shit Azzi please,” Paige curses, eyes rolling into her skull, “just like that fuck.”

She’s so close, words becoming incoherent noises, thighs beginning to shake, when Azzi pulls her tongue off.

“What the fuck-” Paige almost yells but it turns into a groan when Azzi replaces her tongue with two fingers instead, “shit- FUCK.”

Azzi attaches her now-free lips to Paige’s clit and she can tell it’s too much. Paige’s back arches off the bed as her eyes go hazy. And then Azzi’s above her, fingers still rapidly pumping into Paige, as she places a delicate kiss against her lips. 

“Let go baby, I’ve got you,” Azzi whispers into Paige’s ear as the blonde closes her eyes, letting her orgasm wash all over her, “I’ve got you.”

Paige is still for a second, as Azzi slips her fingers out, continuing to press lazy open-mouthed kisses against her best friend’s neck. She squeals when she feels herself being flipped over, back hitting the mattress. 

“What was it you said?” Paige asks cheekily, as starts to unbutton Azzi’s jeans, “I showed you mine, now you have to show me yours.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, a laugh escaping her throat. Trust them to be dorks even in a moment like this. And then Paige attaches her lips to Azzi’s clit and the giggles turn into loud desperate moans. When she slips her fingers in, it’s clear Paige remembers exactly how to push Azzi over the edge. 

“So fucking perfect,” Paige whispers from between her legs, eyes looking up at a blissed-out Azzi with awe, “you’re so fucking perfect.”

“That’s you,” Azzi manages to get out in between bated breaths, before her own orgasm hits her, and Paige’s name waterfalls out of her lips like a prayer. 

There’s no more words after that, only shared looks and soft grins as they make their way into the en-suite bathroom, lazily washing each other between stolen kisses. They fall asleep, wrapped in each other's arms with matching content smiles. 

***

Azzi wakes up alone the next morning. There’s no scribbled note, or even a text. In fact there’s really no proof that Paige was ever there to begin with, except for the ghost of Paige’s touch written all over Azzi’s skin. For a second, Azzi sits in bed and stares out her window. There's a thunderstorm brewing outside (it's not peaceful anywhere when it storms). She watches the raindrops slide down one by one and decides that, that’s the only water that’ll fall today because she won’t shed a single tear and she won’t cry and she most definitely won’t sob. 

She replies to Zoe’s i miss you text with a me too she doesn’t mean.

And then she gets up and goes on with her day. 

[comicaurora]

These have been pent up for a while, so there's a whole list lol. Some are Aurora, some are not.

1) Can lacrimas carry out multiple purposes at once? Or will they blend them? I'm assuming that this is possible, considering that the automaton in the ruins was using a lacrima as a brain

2) Has anyone tried to make tools or weapons out of lacrimas? I'm talking like chisel that needs no hammer. Or maybe a Fire lacrima on a bow that sets your arrows on fire

3) Can you engrave runes on lacrimas to make them affect themselves?

4) Where can I read more about the Twins? If I'm not wrong they're the creator gods, aided by the Light dragon and the Void dragon to create life, but I might be getting a wrong read on that

5) Since we see Erin successfully become the first Void mage, does that now mean there's potential for him to make a Void lacrima? The dragon probably won't allow it, but still

6) What exactly does elemental corruption of each element do? Fire literally burns you up, as we saw in Arc 1. I can infer that Life likely makes you a chimera. Void corruption makes you a cave crawler. But what do the other one do? Does Earth make you a statue? Does Wind disintegrate you, Thanos style?

7) Now onto the non-Aurora questions, is your art vector or raster? I believe it's vector, but it's always better to confirm

8) What are your opinions on reading into the environment and the character design to infer things about the character themselves? In any type of media

9) Have you played Baldur's Gate 3?

10) Do you have any music that you'd recommend? I've listened to every song I liked so many times that I hate them now.

11) I'm new to Tumblr, anything that I should know? You don't have to answer this one if you don't wanna. I think I know some of the basics already. Reblog what you like, and avoid the terfs, right?

You might be able to tell that I like the idea of the lacrimas a little bit. Just a teensy bit. The artificer in me definitely isn't obsessed. I appreciate any answers you can give :3

Cheers!

Ooh, lots of stuff!

Yes, it's possible. A lacrima can be engraved with multiple spells, set in a casing engraved with commands, or some combination of the two. Typically, all spells engraved directly on a lacrima will activate at once when the lacrima is "switched on", but a spell can be quite complex, and conditional activations are possible - "if-then-else" statements, basically.

Yes, magic items exist.

Generally no. If the lacrima is disrupted or broken, the spell generally stops functioning, so a self-affecting lacrima will run only as long as it takes for the lacrima to distort or break.

There's an extra lore page about them!

He probably could if he wanted to (and the Dragon allowed it) but Void energy is very dangerous, so he likely doesn't want to.

Each form of elemental corruption agitates the presence of the element in the mage's body. Earth corruption can damage or alter bones, encourage unhealthy petrification of soft tissues, etc. Wind corruption can have physical effects but it often most obviously produces breakdowns in the person's ability to speak or understand language. Lightning damages, numbs or intensifies a person's physical senses.

Raster, I draw with CSP's digital pens. I've only very briefly experimented with vector art - I don't like how it simplifies the lines.

I think it's a fun school of analysis but, like all literary analysis, it runs into trouble if it tries to lock down exactly what the writer was thinking or intending (which is an objective fact that one can be incorrect about) rather than trying to analyze the story on its own and what meaning might, intentionally or unintentionally, be factoring into it.

Nope

don't trust my taste in music it's 90% nu metal and sonic OSTs

Like what you like, reblog what you want, generally it's considered dubious form to add a comment to a reblog unless you have something profound to contribute (commenting in the tags is fine), steer clear of discourse and callout posts and generally the sectors of the site that are constantly on fire, blocking someone for any reason is 100% fine

[aliorsboxostuff]

Hi! If your requests are open I have one! Just saw ATSV yesterday and its rotting my brain agsisghagdh anyways-

An M!Spider!Reader who is one of Miguel's trusted agents with a tendency to overwork himself to make sure that his teammates are kept safe and ignoring his own health in the process. This understandably makes Miguel very concerned but this man cannot healthily express this are you kidding? What I'm saying is classic troupe of patching you up while scolding you in Spanish and then maybe they kiss a little bit and well if you want to make it a little spicy I wont stop you >:]

Thank you very much! Genuinely makes my gay little heart happy when I see writers like you who exclusively write for gn/male readers, y'all are the backbone of the x reader community fr 💜

A/N: im so sorry this took so long this was months ago but a mf forgot and wow here i am yippee!!!! As usual, if yall find any spelling mistakes pls inform me as i’m always praciticing this damn 2nd language lmao. Lets see if my writing skills is still any good LOL enjoy!! <333

Careless 

Tags: Miguel O’hara xM!Reader, Spidey!Reader, Lyla, Miles Morales, Gwen Stacy, Spider Society, No Smut, Kissing , Fluff, Reader is another spiderman, Soft!Miguel, slight OOC, patching up, healing fic, non-graphic description of wounds, mentions of blood and cuts 

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

Ever since the new guy joined the team, he quickly rose in the ranks and became Miguel’s right-hand man. He’d usually go on patrol, jumping from one universe to another with the man as they capture and contain anomalies like the bugs they are. Miguel puts his trust in him, well, as much trust as a man like Miguel can put in someone. But despite the short time the newbie has been in the Spider society, he has managed to capture Miguel and most of the Spider people's hearts so easily. 

He’s a comet that passes by the compound. Each time he returned from a mission, the spiders would gather around him, congratulating him on another successful mission and inviting him to drink or eat together.  A aswarm would always gather around the portal they knew he would come out from and each time, without fail, he would emerge to cheers and smiles. It wasn't like everyone else wasn't doing a good job, they were all doing what they were supposed to, but somehow the newbie was liked all around, solidifying Miguel’s slowly growing infatuation with him. 

But despite the trust and praises he gets, a spidey doesn't come home unscathed, not every time. Sometimes he’d come back from one of his solo missions with a broken rib or two, bruises in more places than necessary, a torn muscle here a twisted ankle there. He’d limp his way into the infirmary, an army of other spideys following him in worry yet he’d dismiss them easily with a simple wave and a; “It’s nothing guys, I’ll be fine,”

Miguel hates it.

Whenever the man goes on missions with the leader of the society, without fail, he will come home with nothing more than one or two bruises that would heal in a couple of hours if not minutes. Miguel would roll his shoulders back and the man would simply shake his head furiously like a dog before prancing to greet his waves of fans. Miguel didn't need to pay attention to him unless they were doing teamwork. He would run around by himself, track down the anomaly with him, and they would contain it easily and transfer it back just as easily. 

He might not look like it, but when Miguel brings a teammate with him on duo missions, he’s expected to cover their back and vice versa. Miguel will break any skull that dares to hurt his team and he hopes for the same response from his teammate. The newbie never disappoints. 

Miguel would find himself enraged, almost cornered by an anomaly, and there come’s Prince Charming with a devastating kick towards the anomaly’s side which sends it hurling into another building. Miguel appreciates their duo missions, the main reason he puts himself with the newbie. 

Not to mention, he makes a great team leader too. He’s carried out several missions with the younger ones, mainly Miles and Gwen, and despite it all, they always return successfully and with a snack in hand. When he goes on missions with Hobie, they’d somehow come back with a new intricate playlist created and when he goes on missions with Pavitr, they’d come back with pockets full of trinkets ready to give them to the other youngins. All in all, a solid team leader.

Yet, with all that said, Miguel likes to remind himself that no spidey truly comes home unscathed.

—

You were on a mission with Miles. One of your duo missions with the boy, rare considering Gwen usually tags along. But today she’s got a mission with Pavitr and Peni, which leaves you and Miles for some quality Dude Time. 

It was a sunny day in the universe Miles and you dropped in. As the two of you swing from building to building, talking about Miles’ thing with Gwen and laughing at how embarrassed he gets, continuing the topic to buying a new Lego set for Pavitr and Hobie as the two of you swung past a Lego shop, when suddenly the anomaly reveals itself.

Another variant of Doc Oct holding themselves up with their extended metal arms. You can handle a Doc Oct alone, and with Miles helping you, the mission was expected to be so easy you were already thinking about what to have for dinner. 

But things don't always go according to plan, does it?

It strikes 8 pm when Miguel gets a notif from Lyla that an arriving portal was opened into the containment site of the compound. The man clicks his tongue, dropping from his platform before making his way to the site. Every step he takes he leaves his foul mood like a repellent, making the other spidey avoid him, cutting the middle path of the other spideys like a blade. His scowl is not helping his case either way.

The last portal should've been at 6 pm.

The door slides open, and a slight hiss rings out into the room. Inside the evenly lit expanse of the room, he easily spots yours and Mile’s spider suits in between all the other anomaly's dingy outfits. Miguel takes a breath before he stalks towards the two men, their backs to him.

“Ugh, my rib is killing me,” You groan, pressing in the code to store the anomaly in its cell.

“You're telling me, this bruise is going to be a pain in the butt to heal,” Miles sighed, holding his left arm. “But if it weren't for you, man, I’d be dead meat,” 

“Oh come on Miles, none of us knew the guy would send a gas truck our way,” You scoff. The terminal beeps and the thrashing anomaly is contained. 

“The fact that it burned on its way towards us was also something we didn't expect.” Miles laughs at what you said as you find yourself cringing. You knew there were going to be burn marks on your leg.

“No, but seriously, thanks for covering me back there, I thought we’d-”

“You thought you’d what?” 

Miles practically jumps into your arms as the both of you screams. You shut your eyes and it seems like Mile’s did the same before a stern cough makes you peek through your eyelids. There, in front of you, stands a solid wall of muscle and anger. Miguel has his arms crossed, eyes so sharp it could cut a mountain in half. The slight scowl on his lips would be cute if it weren't for the pure bloodlust as he gazes down into you, making you gulp.

“Heeeeeey Miguel,” Your pathetic excuse of a smile was met with nothing but him deepening his frown. Okay alright yup.

Miles awkwardly scuffles down your arms. He coughs into his fist, pulling at the edge of his suit. “Hi there haha…”

Miguel stares. “The last arrival portal should've been at six.”

Not a sound from you or Miles. Miguel holds back a growl. 

“You two are late.”

“Right, ‘m sorry Miguel, I promise this would be the last time, it was just that- See me and Miles here; we didn't realize that this Doc Oct was gonna be slightly more insane than the others-” You ramble, Miles quickly nodding along. 

“And haha, well, one truck lead to another and next thing ya’ now, bam! We got uh… hurt,” A nervous chuckle left your lips. Miguel replies nothing.

“B-but! I covered Miles from the fire! So he only got a couple of bruises, I promise the kid is fine and it wasn't his fault either so let’s just-”

“Enough.” He barks. You practically clamped your mouth shut. 

The doors hisses open again and Gwen comes running in, worry on her face. She sighs in relief as he spots Miles hiding beside you. “Miles! Thank goodness you’re okay!” 

Miguel turns as she runs and wraps her arms around the boy. “You came back so late!”

“I’m sorry Gwen, things got a bit out of control,” Miles pats the girl back reassuringly. “I just got a bit beaten up, nothing I can't handle,” 

Gwen pulls back and grabs the boy's face before turning it left and right and up and down, her eyes scanning like a hawk. She deems it enough as she stops, hands firmly holding Miles’ arms. “You always say that,” She sighs. 

You can't help the small relieved smile on your lips as you watch the two teens catch up with each other before Miguel makes a gesture with his hand.

“Gwen, go take Morales into the infirmary.” He says as he nods to Lyla that popped up on his brace. “And make sure he doesn't get out of bed for the next two days.”

“What?! But it’s barely a scratch-” 

“Now, Morales.” The man stares them down until eventually, Miles relents with a sigh and lets the girl usher him into the Infirmary's direction, the two of them shuffling next to each other, Gwen's arm around Miles. 

You hear something along the lines of ‘detention’ from Gwen as she laughs before the door slides close, leaving you with an enraged lion in its territory. You gulp as Miguel fixes his red eyes on you.

“You. Come with me.” 

And that's how you find yourself walking down the halls of the many living quarters of the compound. You followed silently behind Miguel’s broad shoulders, in any other day you would find it hard to resist not ogling those massive arms, but tonight Miguel was practically a walking beacon of rage. The smallest misstep would make him burst and thats the last thing you want to happen. 

“Miguel, I'm sorry, okay?” You try, catching up to walk beside him. “I promise this will be the last time I’ll come back from a mission late, plus, I won't bring anyone else with me too if I ever do it again. I swear this won't hap-”

His sudden halt catches you off guard and you bump against him. You scratch the bridge of your nose with a slight frown from the impact. The dimly lit hallway made it a slight challenge to read the nameplate but you managed to make out ‘O’Hara’ and with that, your stomach drops.

“Um… Miguel, this isn't my room…” 

The door opens. The room is pitch black. 

Miguel makes his way inside. His red eye glows before he commands; “Sit.” 

Fear brought you to sit on his bed, not a crease in sight which only struck your fear deeper into you. You could hear your heartbeat, terrified for what's to come. The worst thing Miguel could do would probably chew you out in the comfort of his room, away from any possible witnesses, and then maybe take you out of commission for a while as your punishment. 

You gulp as the man sets something beside you. It was a box, hard to make out what it was but it seemed heavy. Miguel clawed and the large hand extends towards you and you screw your eyes shut, hell did you pray to any god that was willing to listen to you so please please please-

“Bring your face closer.” 

Huh?

Cautiously, you open your eyes to Miguel’s face inches away from you, a warm light bathes over his features, making the lines of worry and fear evident. “Let me see your wounds.” 

You blink, once, twice, owlishly, making the man before you sigh and cup your jaw softly. He turns your face to inspect it before he brings his other hand which wipes your fringe away from covering any other possible wounds. 

He hums. “Looks like just scratches.” 

The mystery box turns out to be a first aid kit. Miguel flicks it open and rummages around in it before he pulls a couple of bottles and bandages out. 

“Take off your suit top, we need to treat that burn before it gets worse.” He demands. You cough before awkwardly peeling off what's left of your suit before dropping it on the carpeted floor. You need to get that repaired.

You couldn't bear to meet Miguel's eyes. Not when he’s kneeled in front of you, his usually intimidating body looking small as he’s hunched over. He looks tired, his frown is a mixture of worry and annoyance, but there is something beneath it. Something you don't dare to think about but you know. You always knew. From the first day, you finally managed to see that crack in Miguel’s hardened exterior, you’ve been scared to make another move toward him. Behind this wall of a man, is a heart guarded with spikes and what he has in his eyes right now as he’s wrapping a cooling pad around your arm is something that petrifies you. 

“Next time you’ll be doing missions with me and me only. I won't be assigning you to any other spiders until you learn to take care of yourself,” He huffs, unveiling another roll of bandages.  He pulls at your shoulder which makes you turn slightly. 

"Fucking hell, ¿cómo puedes ser tan descuidado? You run around saving everyone else but who’s going to save you, huh?" He huffs, wrapping the last of the bandage slightly too tight which makes you wince. He notices but does nothing. 

Once again, he holds your chin between his fingers as your gazes suddenly meet. Miguel growls with how you won't meet his eyes, firmly pointed anywhere but into Miguel’s red eyes. He sighs before letting you go as he takes out some ointments. He puts the substance on your cheek and under your slowly blackening eye, then down your jaw where you know a pretty bad bruise taints your skin. You feel his movement slow before his hand rests on your nape, sending jolts of warmth through your body.

“Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate." His voice devastatingly soft. 

Confusion and a steady wave of feelings start at the bottom of your heart, which only worsens as you finally find the courage to look at Miguel. To your surprise, his eyes are wider than usual, pools of crimson oozing with care as he scans your features. His thumb rubs at the base of your skull. “I can't lose my right-hand man.” 

He sighs. “Please, necesito que estés seguro por mí,"

You inhale sharply. Without realizing it, he's practically inches away from you. Your heart races, beats out of your control when Miguel rubs your nape again. 

“Miguel…?” 

A beat passes. Silence. 

Before Miguel growls roughly and promptly stands, taking the med kit with him. He makes his way to what you assume was his wardrobe. Panic rises beside you, making you wave around your hands. “I- Um- Miguel please I didn't mean to- Oof!”

Something was thrown at you. Something soft and large and is this hit shirt and… boxers?! 

“Change your clothes. You can't sleep in those.” Miguel points out, his scowl now a pout on his lips. 

“But-”

“I'm not saying this twice.” He growls before he slides into the bathroom and leaves you in his bedroom along with the pile of his clothes in your arms. 

You slowly look down at what you're holding. Carefully, you slide off what's left of your suit and drop them in a discarded pile before pulling on Miguel's clothes. To no one's surprise, you're practically drowning in the shirt. His boxers barrel fits you and the first goes over your tighs easily. You feel smaller even for your height and stature, but it feels… safe. 

The door of the bathroom slides open to reveal Miguel standing with slightly damp hair as he's drying it off with a towel and in nothing but gray sweats. Something grows within you and it’s definitely something else besides your heart. 

“Ah, you're done,” He glances toward you before setting the towel down neatly. He saunters to the side of his large bed, pulling the covers off before sliding in. An arm keeps the cover slightly open, before he raises an obvious brow.

“Get in here and sleep,” He huffs. 

You jump and quickly slide beside Miguel, careful to keep an inch of a distance. But that was deemed unsuccessful when the man beside you pulled you to his side, and his arm wrapped protectively around your middle which made you drape your hand over his chest. Before you can squirm, he locks his chin over your head with a content sigh. 

Shit, he really is a giant lion. You sigh. 

“Sleep. You need your rest to heal.” Miguel’s voice purrs through you while you're practically glued to his side. You chuckle slightly before pressing a peck just below his jaw.

“You sleep too.” You smile. “Good night Miguel.” 

You hear Miguel hum before he presses his lips to your crown. “Good night.” 

Translations:

how can you be so careless? = cómo puedes ser tan descuidado

Take care, huh? Take care of yourself. = Cuídate, ¿eh? Cuídate.

I need you to be safe for me, = necesito que estés seguro por mí,

Reblogs are appreciated <3

[galatially]

❝𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬❞

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐥𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 — 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 "𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐧" 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭 x 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 — you called and i came, the history between us too broad to ignore; when he showed up on your doorstep five years after he disappeared in the middle of the night, logan howlett decided to clear the air

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 — 5K

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 — 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈, 𝟏𝟖+, strong language, exes, angst, smut, soft boi™ logan, exes to tentative lovers

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — it is time to spread the agenda of logan howlett and his influence on my brain rot for most of my nerdy life. shout out to lizzy mcalpine for making "ceilings" and having me spiral over it for a year!

also also, y'all, i know. i'm horrible at deadlines. but it's what y'all love about me lol

also also first post of 2024!

as always, lovely dividers by @firefly-graphics

Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into his skin, your fingers both light and firm. 

“You have so many scars.” He grunted in response. “When you tell me, am I going to have to set a house on fire?”

Logan laughed. “And why would you do that, bubba?”

“To defend your honor, of course.” You laid across his back to whisper in his ear, the warmth of your breath making the hairs on his body erect. “Can’t have you being the hero all the time. My shoulders are strong, too.”

“…listening? Logan? Logan!”

He blinked, his vision focusing on Ororo’s concerned gaze. 

“What’d you say?”

A soft smile graced her lips. “I asked where you were going.”

Logan hoisted his duffle bag over his shoulder. “I’ve got some business to attend to.”

Ororo hummed. “Would this have to do with a certain someone that lives in the Canadian mountainside?” He didn’t answer as he threw the bag in the back of his truck. “Do you think that’s the best thing for her right now?”

“I just want to make sure she’s okay, Munroe.”

“And then what?” Ororo crossed her arms. “What are you going to do when you see that she’s fine?”

He threw her a hard glare. “I just want to see her. Is that so fuckin’ wrong?”

Her features softened. “You had another dream about her.”

Logan turned back towards the garage. “What does it matter? I just need to see her, Munroe.”

She held her hands up. “I can’t stop you. I just worry that you’re about to uproot this woman’s life because you can’t let her go.”

He took in a sharp breath. She wasn’t wrong; he’d spent the better part of six years raking himself over the coals at how he ended things. If he allowed them, the memories of you screaming and your brown eyes red and puffy from crying haunted him more than any battle he’d ever been in. 

“Look, if you’re so hellbent on going to see her, then go. You’re an adult and you have to live with your decisions.”

He walked around to the driver’s side of his truck. “Tell our fearless leader that I’m goin’ out of town and I’ll be back when I can.”

Ororo nodded and waved, a sad smile on her lips. 

He shouldn’t fucking be here.

The second Logan crossed the border, he could think of nothing else but to get to you. Thirty-eight hours and he didn’t sleep for any of them. No, his mind’s eyes played memories of you: how soft your skin was, that fig and jasmine perfume you loved. The silken warmth of your cunt. He fucked his fist like a horny fourteen year old in that dingy hotel in BC. If he focused hard enough, he could get the tone of your voice just right — those breathy, pleading moans that you let out only for him. He could get lost in the memories, pretend that he was beside you in your bed, other people be damned. 

But that was thirty-eight hours ago. 

Now, here he was. His hands gripped the steering wheel of his truck until his knuckles went white, silently cursing himself for even showing up. He hadn’t seen you in, what? Six years? Who the hell was he to appear on your doorstep after the shit he pulled? 

His eyes scanned the forest surrounding your home. He hated that you lived so far away from immediate civilization. It took you thirty minutes to get into the nearest town for work and you essentially lived off the grid. When he’d happened upon your home that fateful October evening, he was amazed that you had a working phone, let alone Wi-Fi. Whenever you crossed his mind, he thought the worst. He used to beg you to get an apartment in the city, but you always refused. 

“I’m not ready to let get of this place just yet.” You looked up at him from drawing circles on his bare bicep. “Unless you want to give up city life and live out here with me?”

He didn’t answer; even back then, Logan knew that he was bound to hurt you. His refusal to give you more than idle pleasure was a point of contention for you both. Jean always said that he could be hard to talk to because if he wasn’t picking a fight, he was evading questions. But unlike Jean, you weren’t one to back down. When he’d divert or blatantly ignore your questions, you stood your ground. You didn’t give him the chance to distract you with sudden affection. You wanted to resolve issues as soon as they were made present. 

It’s something Logan both loved and hated about you. 

“Fuck this.” He groaned, scrubbing a hand down his face. He blew out a determined breath and opened his car door, his feet moving before he changed his mind. As he got closer to the house, he noticed the red “SOLD” sign on the lawn. His chest thrummed with…pain? Remorse? Fear?

What would he do if you left?

He was on your porch now, his heart hammering against his ribcage, fighting to get to you. He raised his hand to knock on the door as it was opening, being met with the face he’d been dreaming about for half a decade. 

Your brows were furrowed in confusion. “James.” 

His hazy memory didn’t do you justice; your eyes seemed more intense than the last time he’d seen you. You were dressed in an oversized t-shirt — eerily familiar to an old Pink Floyd shirt he thought he’d lost years ago — and shorts barely peeking out from under the hem of the shirt. Your skin smooth and begging to be touched. Your dark coils were thrown into a bun, pieces falling out in various places. You weren’t outwardly upset but you could school your features better than anyone he knew. Your body was half-facing him and half-facing the tiny hall that led to the inside of the house. There was a solemnity to your face that he didn’t recognize. 

A voice in the furthest part of his mind whispered that it was because of him. 

“Y’know you’re the only person that still calls me James?”

Your features flattened. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t know.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I was just passin’ through Edmonton and ended up here .”

“You drove for three days on a whim?”

“I was on my way back from handlin’ somethin’,” he said, the familiar finality in his tone. His gaze went past your shoulders and into the darkness of your home. “Have you eaten yet?”

You blinked. “Not yet.” 

He nodded, his blue eyes back on you. “Can I come in? I’ll make you somethin’.”

You should’ve said no. Should’ve slammed the door in his face and went back to packing up the rest of your bedroom. But instead, you moved to the side and let Logan inside. He thanked you and walked inside, toeing off his shoes, and heading back towards the kitchen like he’d been doing it forever.  

You looked out at his old, rusted truck one last time before closing the door and going to the kitchen. From the tiny hallway, you could hear him humming to himself; an old song his mother used to sing to him, he’d told you once. He’d put his hair up into a bun at the top of his head, a few strands falling to frame his face. His tan skin, the same skin that had scars that even his mutation couldn’t heal, glowed under the dull glow of your kitchen light. You used to always tell him beautiful he was, but he’d wave you off in that Logan way, telling you that no one was as beautiful as you. 

You leaned up against the doorjamb. “Last I heard, you were living in New York. You teach at some fancy school?”

Logan chuckled, mincing up onions and garlic. “I wouldn’t say teach.”

“So, what, you get paid to hang out with fourteen year olds in upstate New York? Sounds kind of sketchy.”

“I teach hand to hand combat,” he glanced over at you, “the kids that I teach it to are like me. Mutants.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I never liked that word; mutants. They make you all sound like failed experiments.”

“Aren’t we?”

“No.” You crossed your arms. “Far from it.”

Logan nodded, more to himself than your declaration, and moved to face the stove. He dumped his vegetables in a small pan to cook. He reached to the left of him — muscle memory, you reasoned — and grabbed a jar of maize. “You’d like it. New York.”

“You think?”

Logan lifted a shoulder. “Be better than livin’ all alone in the mountains.”

You let out a hum. “Guess we’ll find out, won’t we?”

“Where you headed?”

“I don’t know yet,” your eyes dropped to your fidgeting hands, “I didn’t think that I’d be able to sell the house, actually.”

“Why did you? Sell?”

“You know why,” you said, your voice lowered to a whisper. “I held onto it for her and when she died, I didn’t want to stay.”

“‘M sorry I didn’t reach out. Your mother was a remarkable woman.”

You made a bitter sound. “Yeah, well, you’re good at leaving when the wind blows.”

He pursed his lips, turning around to turn off the stove. “You got any plates or bowls left out?”

“James, I —”

“’S fine, Y/N. Bowls?”

You blew out a breath and walked over to the cupboard beside the stove and grabbed two plates, handing them over to Logan. Your knuckles brushed up against his but you kept your eyes on the oak wood of the cupboard. 

“Thanks.”

You rushed out a hushed “you’re welcome” and moved back to stand in front of the sink. The air was tense and you had to fight the impulse to pull Logan to you and let him consume you, if only for tonight. You tightened your hands into fists, feeling the bite of your nails as they embossed your skin. 

Logan handed you a plate and walked to your tiny kitchen table in the far corner of the room. He sat in his chair: close enough to the back door and facing towards you. Where before it was to smile and regard you with tenderness, now there was unease in his eyes. 

You’d forgotten that you didn’t ask what he was making, so the spread in front of you gave you pause: it was your mother’s polenta recipe. “You remembered.” The words came out airy, surprised. 

“You’re the last thing that I’d ever forget, bubba.”

“Don’t do this, Logan.” You set your spoon down. “Just…don’t.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, either!” You pinched the bridge of your nose. You pushed your plate away and looked away from your former lover. 

What were you doing? He showed up, out of the blue, making you dinner…to do what? The question had been clawing at you the entire visit. Why now? What could Logan possibly want from you after all of these years?

Logan leaned back in the chair, the wood creaking in protest against his broad frame. You kept wanting to speak, break the tense silence, but you couldn’t find the words. Looking at him, he seemed too still. Like a marble statue molded to the chair, anchoring him to this room with you. 

“I fucked up, bubba.”

Your brows canted. “What do you mean?”

“That night…the last night that I was here, I said some things that I shouldn’t have. Made promises that I didn’t know if I could keep.” One of his large hands scrubbed down his face, his eyes still on the ceiling. “I told you that I’d leave everythin’ behind to stay.”

Your bottom lip quivered. You remembered; he’d come here that night more impassioned than usual. His hair wind-swept, his cheeks wind-whipped and red, he pulled you in for one of the most passionate kisses you’d ever had in your life. A clash of tongue and teeth against fleshy lips and curves of skin that left you a shaking mess beneath the thin sheets of your bed. You laid in his arms, running your fingers along the lines of his collarbone, when you’d asked if he’d stay. You weren’t begging, didn’t even lower your voice to a low hush to persuade him. You were as direct as you always were, determined to know where you stood in the universe that was Logan Howlett. 

“You lied.”

His eyes, darkened with sorrow, finally found yours. “I lied.”

You blinked back tears. “Why? If you knew that you weren’t going to make space for me in your life, why make me believe you would? I uprooted my life for you, Logan! I was going to sell my mother’s house and ride off with you into the sunset! And for what? For you to leave me alone?”

“I couldn’t take you with me then, Y/N. Somethin’…came up.”

“I know, Ororo told me.” Logan shot forward, his eyes wide. “She came and found me two years ago. She said that there was an incident and that you almost died. Said that you kept murmuring my name, telling them to make sure that I was safe.”

He scoffed. “Always meddlin’, that woman.”

“At least she cared enough about you to come find me.”

His jaw tightened. “You’re walkin’ a thin line, bubba.”

“Don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get to call me that anymore, Logan.” You stood up from the table and opened the back door. “Get out.”

“What?”

“Get. Out,” you hissed. “Thank you for making me dinner, but I want you to go.”

Logan crossed his arms, throwing you a hard look. “No.”

Your nostrils flared. “James, get —”

You’d forgotten how fast he was. He was out of the chair and in front of you in an instant, your next retort dying on your tongue. One of his large hands cupped your chin and the other slammed the door shut. His blue eyes roamed your face, searching for something. 

Though he towered over you, hell, he overpowered you, you didn’t back down. “I want you to leave.” 

“I’m not leavin’. Not until I say what I have to say.”

Your eyes brush along the seams of his lips, lingering, before meeting his smoldering gaze again. “Then say what you need to say and go. I’m done with this.”

Logan’s fingers gripped your chin harder, his gaze hard. “We’re not done talkin’, bubba.” There was an intensity to the nickname as it left his mouth that made your thighs clench together. He leaned in closer, his lips brushing up against yours. 

You gripped the sleeve of his flannel, your pulse fluttering in your ears. The hand that had closed the door moved to the small of your back and pushed you into his pelvis. You gasped at his hardened erection against your thigh. 

“You can yell at me, you can fuckin’ hit me if you need to.” He rested his forehead against yours. “But don’t tell me to leave. I don’t know where to go if I’m not with you.”

“You haven’t had me in years, James,” you said, roughly. You knew that he caught the desperation in your tone, your words. You tipped your head back and lifted up on tiptoe to press your lips to his. When you finally noticed that he hadn’t returned the kiss, you started to pull back, a pit growing in your stomach. 

“I’m —”

His arm tightened around your middle to keep you still. His mouth molded against yours, hungry and desperate. 

You pawed at his flannel, helping him shrug out of it. Logan cupped his hands under your thighs and lifted, wrapping your legs around his waist. You sucked a bruise along the curve where his neck and collarbone meet, relishing in the hiss he let out. 

“Wait, wait, wait.” He pulled back, his gaze intense. “I need to say this before anythin’ else happens between us.” Your brows creased. “I hurt you. I hurt you and it fuckin’ killed me, Y/N, and I’m sorry.”

Your breath caught. You didn’t know Logan enough to know his favorite color or his mother’s name, but you knew enough about him to know that he didn’t apologize. Didn’t matter if he was wrong or right, he just didn’t. But the man before you wasn’t the man you knew six years ago. Now that you were looking at him, you could see it all: the dark circles, the stiffness of his body that only came from being nervous. 

Despite your assertive nature, you didn’t hold grudges. Those types of feelings need to constantly be fed into and that was energy you couldn’t spare. Not even for men that you fell in love with too quickly.

You put your lips to his again. He mirrored your movements and carried you to your bedroom. He sucked a bruise onto the skin between your ear and shoulder, making you let out a whimper. You ground your hips against his hardened erection. 

“Fuck, honey,” he hissed. 

“I need you inside of me, James.” You nipped at his earlobe. “Please.”

He kissed you, long and hard, before helping you out of your thin shorts. His thick fingers glided through your puffy folds, a guttural groan leaving his throat. 

“You this wet for me, Y/N?”

You mewled in response, your hips moving against his digits, begging for pressure on your swollen pearl. 

He gulped, his eyes hungrily tracing over your lust-drunken expression. His cock was straining almost painfully against the denim of his jeans but he couldn’t stop staring at you. He drew the pad of his thumb along the curves of your parted lips, sucking a breath when the tip of your tongue barely swept against the skin. 

He dipped the digit between your lips, watching with rapt pleasure as you suckled and moaned around it. He groaned and curved his free hand around the base of your throat. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

You shuddered. “I can be.”

“Oh, yeah?” He suckled a love bite onto your skin. “You think you can be mine tonight?”

You nodded eagerly. 

Logan chuckled and threw you over his shoulder, taking what seemed like three large steps into your bedroom and tossed you lightly onto the bed. He took hold of your face and slotted his lips over yours, licking deeply into your mouth. 

You pawed and pulled at his flannel, clumsily helping him out of it while trying to keep kissing him. He hummed against your lips and worked your thin shorts down your thighs before ripping them down the middle. The cool air against your bare cunt gave you gooseflesh. Your hands moved to work at his belt buckle as his own pulled at the shirt you wore.

“Was wonderin’ where this went.”

You chuckled. “You barely wore it.” You made a triumphant noise upon getting his pants undone and to the floor, looking up at him from beneath your thick, dark lashes. 

He wanted to devour you. One of his big paws cupped your face and he ground out, “Are you sure, bubba?”

You took his heavy cock in one of your hands, moving up and down the length of it. You smirked at his sharp breath as you eased down to your knees. Without breaking eye contact, you took him into your mouth, a low groan vibrating against your tongue. 

“Jesus,” he gripped your curls into one fist and threw his head back, “just like that, sugar.”

You hollowed your cheeks and took him deeper, the tip of your nose pressing against his pubic mound. The hand that wasn’t giving gentle squeezes to his thigh when to massage his heavy balls. 

A low groan, bordering a growl, tumbled past Logan’s lips. “You have to move, baby. ‘M dyin’.”

You moved your hand from his balls to curl around the base of him, slowly working in tandem with your mouth. You moaned around his cock, spit dribbling down the sides of your mouth. You lightly scraped your teeth along the length of him. Logan hissed and gripped the sides of your face and started fucking your face. Your eyes were rimmed red, tears streaming down your face, and yet he looked at you with the reverence reserved for altars and gods. 

“‘M cummin’…’m —”

He came in thick ropes into your mouth, his hips stuttering as he was coming down. His hands fell from the sides of your face to rest them on the tops of his thighs. 

You pushed off of Logan with a faint “pop” and sat back against your calves. Your eyes trailed up and down Logan’s frame; you’d forgotten how big he was. Broad shoulders and back, large hands, thick, corded muscles. He could sometimes be as foreboding as he looked. 

Then, post nut clarity smacked the shit out of you. 

“Shit.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, me, too.”

“No. I mean, shit like we shouldn’t have done that.” You pushed yourself onto your feet. “Where’s my shirt?”

“You mean my shirt?”

You ignored his jibe and scanned the room for the garment. One of his hands shot out and pulled you onto his lap. 

“I can smell ya, sweetheart.”

Your brows creased for a few seconds before you understood what he’d meant. You gulped, your chest rising and falling in hard pants. “Doesn’t matter, James. This was a mistake.”

His eyes — those intelligent, ever-searching eyes — darkened, a hunger in them that you hated that you missed. “Was it? What’s so wrong about two people findin’ each other again?” His thumb swept along your bottom lip. “‘M all yours to do whatever you need, baby.”

Your tongue darted out, barely pressing against his skin before his mouth claimed yours.  He eased you onto your back as his hand traversed the expanse of your torso. His hands pawed and kneaded at your breasts, rubbing and twisting your nipples into stiff peaks. Your back canted towards his touch. His mouth suckled at your right nipple, his other hand still playing at the other.

“James,” you pleaded.

“What, bubba?” He chuckled darkly. “Use your words.”

Every word that flashed in your mind died in your throat. Only incoherent pants and groans left you. Logan switched to your left breast and one of his free hands cupped your mound. Your eyes screwed shut. The rough pad of his thumb brushed up against your clit, sticky with your slick. 

“So wet and I’ve barely touched you.”

Your hips bucked and he rubbed the bundle of nerves again. Slow, tortuous swipes that sent shocks to your system and tightened your belly with need. Just before the coil snapped, his cock drove into you. Tears fell from your eyes and a choked gasp ballooned in your chest. 

“Fuck, honey, s’good.” Logan’s voice was hoarse and desperate. He fucked into you like a man possessed; his big hands gripped your hips, surely leaving bruises behind. He moved one hand to curl at the base of your throat. Vignettes of memories past played in your mind’s eye and you let out a ragged keen, moving your hips to meet his thrusts. His name passed your lips. “Yeah, baby?”

You gripped one of his forearms. “‘M close.”

Rough skin swept across your clit. “Let go for me, bubba. C’mon.”

Your back canted as a guttural moan ripped from your throat. Logan pulled you into his chest, whispering my good girl and I’m here in your ear as you came down. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed. He’d never left you behind six years ago and this was just another evening for the two of you. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes and you buried your face into his chest. 

“Hey.” He lifted your chin to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I hate this,” your voice quivered, “I hate that you came back. I hate that I still — ” You shook your head. “We shouldn’t have done that, James.”

Logan cupped your face in his hands. “What do you want me to do? I’ll do anythin’ you ask me to, Y/N, you have to know that.”

“Do I?”

He pulled out of you and gathered you in his arms as he tucked you both into bed. His deep, even breaths reverberated up your spine. You sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. 

“I never meant to hurt you. Hurtin’ you was the last thing that I wanted to do and there’s nothin’ I could do to fix that.” He pressed his lips to the nape of your neck. “Just…talk to me. Please.”

“You broke me, Logan, do you know that? I broke all of my rules for you and it broke me. I was already grieving my mother and you made me grieve you when I never had you to begin with.”

“I know,” he rasped. 

“Do you?”

“When Storm came to visit you, she wasn’t jokin’. I almost fuckin’ died.” He ran the backs of his fingers up and down your spine, his tone faraway. “I was slippin’ away, could barely focus on anythin’ in front of me for too long. Then suddenly, your face was the only thing I saw. I could picture you so clearly, down to the micro expressions that I didn’t even realize I’d paid attention to.” He rested his chin atop your head. “I’d made sure that I never thought of you too often or I’d leave everythin’ behind to come back to you.”

“And yet, here you are.” Your voice wobbled at the end. “You broke the one rule you shouldn’t have.”

“Yeah, well, rules are meant to be broken. I don’t regret showing up. Even if this is the only thing I could get, I’d fuckin’ do it all over again just to see you, bubba.”

You turned over to face him, your brown eyes hard. “Yeah, but bodies weren’t, James. You shouldn’t have to nearly die to decide that I’m worth seeing again.”

“You really love half-listenin’, don’t you?” He held your chin between his fingers, lifting your eyes to his. “I haven’t stopped thinkin’ about you since I left, Y/N. The only reason that I didn’t keep in touch was because I was afraid that you wouldn’t want to see me. Like you said, bodies weren’t meant to broken.”

“Neither were hearts,” you murmured. 

He nodded. “And would yours consider lettin’ me back in? It’s selfish to ask, I know, but I don’t want to let you go again, bubba.” 

You threaded your fingers between his. “I want to. But how will I know if you’ll stay this time, James? What’s changed in the last six years?”

Logan brought the back of your hand up to his lips. The warmth in his eyes, while not unfamiliar, made your breath catch. For a split second, you remembered that he could hear your heartbeat fluttering madly in your chest, your pulse against his forearm. 

“When do you leave for New York?”

Your brows knitted together. “I should be done packing in a few days. Why?”

He pulled one of your legs over his hip, laughing when you sucked in a breath. “We’ll go into town tomorrow, pawn all the stuff you’re not usin’ anymore, and pack up the rest in the truck. We’ll make a trip out of it.”

“And where would we go after that? I’m not living in a boarding school.”

“I have a place of my own, thank you very much,” he said, smirking, “it’s not much but it’s mine. It could use a…softer touch, I think.”

You sat up on your elbow. “Yeah?”

“‘M gettin’ old, bubba. Like, obviously not so much physically, but mentally? I’ve seen wars, watched people that I care about die. Walked away when I should’ve stayed.” He threaded his fingers through your free hand. “I’m sayin’ all this to say that, if you’ll have me, I want to stay.”

You hummed, looking down at your joined hands. If tonight proved nothing else, you and Logan were tethered each other for better or worse. There would never be a moment where you wouldn’t think of each other and that scared you. But if you knew nothing else, you knew that you loved him. You loved James Howlett. 

“Will you want to stay? I’m not about to uproot my life just for you to leave me again.”

He pulled you close, putting his forehead to yours. “The worst mistake I’ve ever done is leave you behind Y/N Y/L/N. I should’ve told you that I loved you five years ago.” You gasped. “I love you, bubba, and I regret everyday not that I never told you.”

“Say it again.”

He took your face in his hands and smiled, the peach hue of the sun warming his face. “I love you, Y/N Y/L/N. I’ve loved you for the past six years and I will never stop lovin’ you.”

Tears pooled in the corners of your eyes. You wanted him to say these words, waited for them for over half a decade. But they were…heavier than you anticipated. Though your own confession sat on your tongue, too much clung to them; the last fight you had, your mother dying shortly after and how you resented him even more for leaving you alone at a time like that. More than anything you hated that you cared about him so quickly just for him to leave. 

“You don’t have to say it back yet.” Logan smiled some. “Five years is a long time to grieve something.”

You put a hand to his cheek. “You know that I want to, though, don’t you?”

“I know,” he kissed you again, “and we’ll get you there. One day at a time.”

𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 — given the fact that i haven't written in literal months, y'all have no idea how happy i am to have churned this out. happy 2024!

[wings-of-ink]

Update!

Hey everyone, just wanted to check in with you. I hope you all doing well!

Right now, I am feeling good about getting chapter 3 out by 4/30. It's a crunch for sure, but barring any disasters in the work itself or my personal life, I feel like it is doable. My aim is to get it to a point where it is release-worthy but will still need fine tuning after the fact. I generally like to edit things a couple times at least and have it play-tested, but I won't have time for all that. But, this is a work in progress, and I can always make improvements as I go. There are also a couple segments that I did not have time to add, but they're not pivotal to the story. I will add them if I find the time before the 30th (sorry to those who wanted to make a tasty cake for someone).

So far, I have gone through chapters 1 and 2 again and made some corrections to typos and grammar. I added a white hair option with some flavor text, and some other flavor text for purple eyes. The option to have your MC's hair turn grey (streaked or fully grey) from stress/illness was added, but I did not do it in the way I needed to, so if I have time, I'm going to fix that before release. I also updated some of the variable values of certain choices. A name bank was added for anyone who might struggle to come up with a name for their MC. I made all but one of them correspond to the marks. There's a wild card in there for the adventurous, lol. The codex was also updated.

Today, I am editing chapter 3. My very gracious boss encouraged me to take the day off, and I'm feeling pretty good, so I'm using this as an opportunity to get some serious work done.

If you're curious and don't mind my rambling about my life, you can read about my ordeal below!

I am feeling much better. I had a couple rough days in the past week, but mostly brought on by medication my dentist wanted me to take to stave off possible infection in a broken tooth. I had a less-than-stellar reaction to it, and it gave me insomnia and anxiety. Simply fantastic.

But, I had the root canal yesterday (got lucky and they had a cancelation so I was able to go in 5 days early). I am happy to report it was not bad at all. In fact, it may have been the easiest dental procedure aside from cleanings that I've ever had, lol. I was in and out within half an hour, and the endodontist numbed the fuck out of my mouth. The biggest pain was the drive there and back since I live so far away.

I chilled the whole day and took a glorious 2 hour nap, and have been sore but totally good. I even watched one of my favorite comfort-animes, Natsume Yuujinchou. If you are ever feeling poorly and down in the dumps or just need to relax, it is cute, a bit funny, and lighthearted - so I highly recommend it. So, all in all, I feel recharged and more than ready to see chapter 3 with fresh eyes!

Thank you to everyone who sent me encouraging messaging about the root canal. It really truly helped me show up for that appointment without feeling completely vulnerable. I was still anxious, because that is just what my brain do - I can't even see my GP without my hands shaking, lol. But, going into it knowing what your experiences have been helped so much.

Anyway, sorry for prattling! I'm going to get back to it now! ^_^

[callmelola111]

guilty conscience ☆ part four

 ← part 1 , part 2 , part 3 ⭑ part 5 →

synopsis: it’s your first year at college and you’re 1,500 miles away from home. you’d feel completely alone if it wasn't for your attractive roommate ellie. will this attraction complicate the already uncharted territory? or will she be the answer to all your problems?

      |✯| pairing & wc: college!ellie williams x roommate!reader. wc: 3.2k

      |✯| cw (by part): 18+ themes (MDNI), fem reader, SMUT (18+ ONLY), modern au!ellie, HEAVY ANGST, frequent swearing, sexual tension, cat lol, fingering (r receiving), oral (r recieving), kinda nipple play, dom!ellie, sub!reader, public-ish sex, ellie is a cheater cheater pumpkin eater (i think thats it but lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: honestly was getting fed up with myself writing this part. like goddamn bitch can we get a happy ending already? so much angst and drama from ellie that you might just wanna beat her tf up. it gets so slutty though and i love it. i hope this is feeds the ache for y'all, lmk cause this is my first attempt at smut!! anyways, thanks 4 the support and much love from me to you <;3

After that special night with Ellie, you realized there was no more ignoring the situation at hand. She left you feeling empty just as quick as she had made you feel full. And you cared so much for her, despite the fact. No matter how much you wanted to stand your ground, your mind always got stuck on the possibilities. The possibility that Ellie was feeling everything you were… The possibility that there was a happy ending in sight… The possibility that Cat meant nothing.

With all these feelings circling your mind, you felt too biased to make the right decision when it came to her. You decided it was time to tell Dina. You quickly picked up your phone and gave her a call, inviting her out to coffee. Thankfully Dina offered to drive, as you were still stranded at Ellie’s bandmates place. 10 minutes later, she was out front honking. 

Dina greeted you with a squeal, “Hiii love!! I missed you!”

Before you could reciprocate her greeting she spoke again, “Wait who’s house is this? How was last night? Oh my god Y/n, did you hook up with someone?? Pleaseee tell me!!” Dina’s thoughts were going 100 mph trying to guess the context of this little rendezvous. 

“That’s why I asked you to coffee. Trust me, I’m going to explain everything.” Your mysterious answer left Dina even more intrigued. The both of you arrived at the coffee shop, ordered your drinks, and took a seat at a little table in the corner. 

“Soooo… TELL ME ALREADY,” Dina exclaimed impatiently as you fidgeted in your seat not even sure where to start. You stared through the shop window at nothing in particular as you mulled over the timeline of Ellie and you. Dina could see the cogs in your brain turning and knew this conversation was going to be about more than a silly little one night stand. You finally spoke 3 words, “it’s about Ellie.”

“Ellie? God I should’ve known, I’m literally your best friend!!”

“It's fine D, I’ve been pretty radio silent about my love life on purpose. See, it’s much more complicated. Like a gut wrenching, sick and twisted, WLW heartbreak kind of complicated. How long can you stay and talk?”

“I’m all yours babe, give me every last detail. I'm serious,” Dina urged. So, you did. The debrief took a total of 3 hours and 2 iced coffees to get through. It felt so good getting everything off your chest. 

Dina gave you just the right advice too, “Communication is key.” You knew it was stupid but talking about it upfront was the last thing you had thought to do. It seemed too scary to face Ellie like that, but you knew it was the right choice. Sure it was hard dealing with these feelings and you wanted answers, but you also lived with this girl. You owed it to yourself and to her to figure out this bullshit. You didn’t want to be in a constant state of tension and resentment every time the two of you had to be around each other (which was all the time).

After a morning well spent, you and Dina said your goodbyes and she dropped you back off at your dorm. You walked through the front doors and swiped your student ID to access the elevator. You leaned against the cold, metal walls as you brainstormed how to approach Ellie. You had a good idea of what to say up until you were opening the door and coming face to face with her. She made you forget everything. But, despite your blank mind, you were determined.

“Ellie, we need to talk, seriously.” You tried to assert yourself, but your breaths were shaky from nerves. Ellie looked up from her desk nonchalantly and gave you a blank stare like she had no idea what you were talking about. This really pissed you off.

“Don’t give me that fucking look Ellie, you know exactly what I’m talking about. How could you just leave me like that?”

“Hey relax, it’s not like that.” she stood up and answered calmly, which made you want to slap her even more. Ellie could put on a game face better than she could ever be vulnerable. No matter the damage her lack of honesty caused.

“It’s not like that? Be real with yourself for one fucking second Ellie.” 

“Fuck you bro, I don’t need this shit.” she retaliated, not meaning a word she spat out.

“FUCK YOU!” you shouted, moving into her space. Instead of moving back, Ellie stayed right there with you, standing her ground. You felt the heat of her body against yours and an erotic sensation growing between your legs. Your eyes began to glaze over with tears of desperation, she had this unexplained power over you.

“Ellie, I- I can’t keep doing this with you.”

“Can’t keep doing what?” she asked. It’s like Ellie needed you to admit it first before she could even acknowledge it on her own. She longed to hear your passionate confessions and anguished pleas.

“I can’t keep beating around the bush with you. I like you Ellie and it’s driving me fucking crazy because you act like you could care less. You taunt me with your stupid sexy charm and stupid flirty touch just to run right back to Cat. But right here, right now, you can’t deny the tension between us. I need you Ellie.” Tears began to stream down your face and you wiped them away with haste. A beat of loud silence echoed through the room before Ellie finally answered.

“I don’t mean to tease, but there’s just so much at stake when it comes to me and you. Can't you see? I know I’m a piece of shit. I mean, here I am with a perfectly fine girlfriend, yet inches away from my roommate, hardly able to resist her touch.”

“Then don't Ellie. Forget about everyone and please just kiss me.” You were practically begging, it was so pitiful. Ellie placed a hand to your shoulder and shoved you against the wall.

“God Y/n just STOP IT!” 

You melted under her agonizing touch, “W-why not me?” You stuttered and took in  her hot breaths that hit your face as she panted through her frustration. It wasn’t much longer till the two of you could no longer restrain.

Ellie stared at her dirty converse to avoid your pleading eyes, “I just can’t, I can’t cheat. I'm not a cheater.” She was shaking her head profusely as if to rid her mind of the lustful thoughts that consumed her. She wanted you so bad it hurt. You took her face in your hands and lifted her gaze to yours in a last attempt.

“Ellie-,” you gasped, as the aching became unbearable. You’d surrender to her touch right now if she only asked. As Ellie looked back at you, she wished Cat didn’t exist, you were all she ever wanted and you were right there. She just had to say the words and you’d be hers.

Ellie’s head fell into the crook of your neck in desperation. Her hands moved up and down your clothed body searching for some sort of release. 

“Ellie please, I need you.” you whimpered into her ear. The vibrations sent a shiver of pleasure down her spine and just like that she snapped. All her morals disappeared as she found your wrist and grasped it firmly, leading your hand to the waistband of your pants.

She whispered back, “show me.” With her permission your hand darted down to the ache. You slid your fingers through the mess Ellie invoked with just her words before stopping on the big ball of nerves that begged to be touched. 

Before you could ease the yearning down below, Ellie interrupts, “I said show me.” A smirk grew upon her face as she watched you discern the meaning of her risky comment. You retrieved your fingers in obedience to Ellie and were prepared to do whatever else she asked.

Immediately, Ellie took your sticky fingers and brought them to her plump lips. Slowly she planted kisses from the tips of your digits down to your knuckles. It felt like a dream. Of course, Ellie knew she should stop, but when her freckled nose caught the sweet smell of your juices she dreamed of tasting them too. 

“Put your hands back in your pants.” she demanded with agency. Back inside they went, fingers quick to locate your empty hole. You couldn’t take it, your middle finger gently slid in and a breath escaped your open mouth. You shut your eyes and an in-and-out rhythm ensued. Ellie grew wet herself as she watched you writhe with pleasure. She couldn’t help but tell you.

“I love watching you touch yourself like that.” Her comment evoked a strained moan from your lips as you imagined her fingers inside instead of your own. Ellie cupped her cunt, trying to fight her infidelity but failing miserably.

“Can I see your fingers again please? I- I wanna taste it.”

“Need me that bad?” you teased, like you hadn’t been dreaming of this moment for ages. But Ellie had no time for games and took matters into her own hands. She captured your fingers herself. Her tongue flattened to the length of them before her mouth completely closed in on the treat. She sucked with vigor until your flavor dissipated.

“Tastes so good” she hummed, eyes blown out with pleasure. 

“How about you really taste it?” you taunted. The twisted and erotic nature of the interaction left you in a trance. 

“You know I can’t Y/n. It- It would be wrong.” Ellie spoke as if sucking your roommates slick right off her fingers wasn’t just as much of a betrayal as any sexual act. At this point morals felt so out of the question but your words from nights before continued to repeat in her head.

“Me? Mess it up for you? Don’t worry Ellie, you can do that all on your own, believe me.”

She was at odds with herself, not knowing whether to dive in head first or run away while she could. 

“Please Ellie, I need you inside me.” you begged. She brushed the back of her hand down your face apologetically and planted a kiss on your forehead.

A single tear fell as she said, “I just can’t do this. I have to go,” and turned towards the door. Ellie disappeared out of the room and you sunk to the floor, defeated once more. I guess old habits really do die hard. 

After Ellie left, she didn’t show back up to your dorm for the next 3 days. At first you were pissed off and hurt, but the longer she was gone, the more that bitterness turned into worry. She became the only thing on your mind. You had tried calling and texting but to no avail. Out of desperation, you even decided to ask Cat in class. Dina supervised from afar as you confronted her.

“Cat, I know you don’t like me, but can I please just ask you something,” you said with hesitance.

“Great observation! You’re right, I don’t like you. Now, what do you want?” she snapped.

“It’s about Ellie, I haven't seen her in 3 days and I’m really worried. Do you know where she is?” Cat paused to think before she gave you an answer.

“She’s been staying at my place. Is there a problem? I mean, I am her girlfriend,” she scoffed. Truthfully, Cat hadn’t seen Ellie for the past 3 days either but God forbid she let you find that out. She didn’t want you thinking you had any sort of chance with her girlfriend now that she seemed to be getting iced out too.

Of course, her plan worked just how she wanted and you were just about ready to give up on Ellie. You walked back to your dorm dragging your feet hopelessly. When you arrived you were greeted by none other than the girl who’d been fueling your worry.

“Ellie? What the fuck. What are you doing here?”

“I mean, I live here right?” she answered while rummaging through her things. Here she goes again, pissing you off like usual.

“I thought you did too until you went awol for 3 whole days without saying a thing. If you wanna stay with Cat that bad just tell me. I don’t need you sparing my feelings. You’ve already done enough.” Your anger spoke for you and Ellie was baffled.

“Cat? What makes you say that? I’ve been at my parents this whole time.”

You snapped, “Don't lie to me Ellie, I know you were at her place. If you love Cat so much, just be with her and leave me the fuck alone.” Ellie then grabbed her guitar and slinged on a backpack.

“Fine, I will leave you alone. I have a show to be at anyways.” And just like that, gone again.

You replayed the past hour in your head and considered the fact that maybe Ellie was telling the truth. Cat was never known to be a saint, so her lying all of the sudden seemed likely. This time, instead of waiting for Ellie to come back around, you decided to chase after her.

You quickly threw on a revenge outfit and put on some mascara. You stared in the mirror at your black mini skirt and tight crop top. You couldn’t deny it, you looked fucking hot. The peak in confidence pushed you right out the door and to the venue of Ellie’s show.

When you arrived her band was already on stage playing. You realized this was your first time ever hearing them together and decided to really soak it in. Ellie looked so happy doing what she loved despite all the drama happening off stage. She was even better than you thought. You watched as she plucked the strings and bobbed her head along with the beat. You hated how much it turned you on. The tattoo you loved so much was on full display and her arm muscles flexed with each chord. She’d occasionally bite her bottom lip in concentration and it drove you wild. Her set finally finished and you were more than pleased, mentally and physically. Ellie got off stage and you quickly ran after, shouting her name.

“Hey can we talk please? I wanna say sorry.” you explained.

“Fine, come with me to the bathroom, it’s quieter there.” She grabbed your hand and led you. You pushed yourself up to sit on the marble counters that housed the sinks. Ellie looked you up and down, waiting for you to speak. She took note of how good you looked before frantically spewing an apology.

“I’m sorry for accusing you of lying. I was stupid and asked Cat if she had seen you recently. Of course she told me you’d been with her and I blindly believed.” 

She seemed to be listening so you continued your ranting, “I really hate to fight Els. I miss having fun with you. I wanna move on from everything and just be happy. Together, me and you.” You looked up to flash her some puppy dog eyes when you noticed her attention being diverted.

No matter how hard Ellie wanted to pay attention to what you had to say, she couldn’t help but stare up your skirt. Your positioning on the counter gave her the perfect sneak peek of the space between your legs. Once you had caught on to her pervy behavior Ellie fumbled to save face.

“Shit sorry um, I was just, uh, you have cute panties.” She then flashed you a sideways smile trying to make up for that dumpster fire of a “save”.

“You don’t have to apologize, Els.” A cocky look spread across your face and Ellie recognized what game you were playing.

“Well then I’d just like to say, the wet spot on them is even cuter.” Your face turned hot as you registered the fact that the same girl who made you soak through your panties was about to be the one to take them off.

Ellie slotted herself between your knees as you sat on the counter. Shock turned to hunger in a matter of seconds as you practically consumed each other. Her mouth engulfed yours as if there was no need for air. You desperately clung to her body, using your legs to pull in closer. Ellie grabbed at your chest as she slipped her wet tongue into your desperate kiss. You gasped into her mouth when she found your nipples through the thin fabric of your top. She twisted them with power before removing your shirt completely. Ellie separated from your mouth for just a split second to admire the beauty before her.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” she gushed and then used both hands to push your legs apart. Your cunt was on full display through the soaked fabric, your skirt bunched up around your hips. Ellie used her calloused fingers to trace the delicate folds peeking from the cloth and you jolted as she brushed past your sensitive spot. She hooked into your panties to scootch the fabric to the side before you suddenly interrupted.

“Ellieeee, we’re in a public bathroom.” She pouted at you with desperation. Ellie needed you now. Out of pure impulse, she grabbed you by the hips, hands cupping your ass, and stumbled with you into the big stall. 

“Take them off” she demanded. You seductively slipped the pink, lace thong you were wearing down to your ankles. The cold air alone on your exposed folds was enough to send a sensation through your body. Ellie retrieved your littered painties and shoved them into her pocket for “safe keeping”. She remained on her knees in the tight bathroom stall and began planting kisses on your inner thighs. These kisses turned into small bites as the shared arousal became overwhelming to your senses.

Ellie eventually found her way to right where you wanted her. Her fingers spread you apart taking mental note of each delicate fold. You gasped in pleasure, as if to urge her to continue. The wet sensation of her tongue finally met your aching clit and a sultry moan escaped your lips. Your opening clenched at the contact as she coached you through the bliss that was her mouth.

“I know it feels good but you gotta be quiet for me baby. Just breathe.” You had barely gotten the hang of keeping calm before her fingers dove in to give you twice as much satisfaction.

You gripped Ellie’s forearm for support as she twisted in and out of your throbbing cunt. She was determined to make you feel good. She needed to make up for her bad behavior.

With that thought in mind, she dove back in with her mouth followed by the curling of her fingers inside you. You couldn’t help but screech and Ellie quickly shot a hand up to cover your mouth. So goddamn noisy. As she continued, you inched closer and closer to the precipice of an orgasm.

The bathroom brimmed with the wet sounds of Ellie’s tongue lapping you up, her fingers assaulting your hole, and the moans she did her best to muffle. But, suddenly, those weren’t the only sounds that filled the room.

“Ellie? Baby, is that you?”

← masterlist ⭑ part 5 →

taglist ☆...

@machetegirl109 @gold-dustwomxn @menatoia @ximtiredx @robinismywifee @elliepricefield @alexpritch @jokirxmae

[fiber-optic-alligator]

(Not a request dw) (So, about the two KO fics I was talking about earlier. I think I'm just gonna do the post-time skip one. The other one where Knock Out's human gets moved outta town, and has a few close calls isn't itching my brain good enough right now. I might have to let that one cook for a bit. lol.)

Re: Bumblebee rescuing Knock Out's human after they escape his game at the trainyard.

Once every other week, Bumblebee picks up his Little Pal for their typical hang out session at the Autobot Base. As they are wont to do, they spend the trip there excitedly chatting about what they're planning on doing together once they arrive. "What to do, what to do… … -Maybe a dance party?

"Hhhmmmm… No, that'd get too loud. Ratchet hates when we play music too loud. Or dance. Peepaw Ratch needs it relatively quiet in order to do his work. Haha. He could always use a break!"

"It doesn't have to -bee -loud music. We could -just have - regular music playing while we -hang out." Bee pleads through his spirit box speech, and his Little Pal finds that his bright blue, puppy dog eyes are hard to resist.

"Yeeeeeaaaaahhhhh… True. But we'd probably do that anyways. Haha. Maybe we could play video games? There's this one I found that I think you'll like. It's a racing game with weird tracks, gliding sections, customizable cars, and some killer music!" Bee lets out a string of excitable chirps before he tunes back into his alt form's radio.

"-Crowd cheering sfx- -Sounds great! When do we start?"

"Oh, just after we get to the base, and say hi to everybody. It's been, what, like, a month since last time? It's only polite, after-!!" They freeze mid-sentence like a deer in headlights at the sight of a familiar crimson mech. Of course he was real, they knew he was real. They'd only gotten repeated confirmation from everyone else they'd met that night. And every day since then, when they'd asked.

But. To see him again. To know for a fact that this particular mechanical alien that haunts their bizarre, blurry nightmares actually exists. That Knock Out actually exists, and is here. He's. He's here, and is planning on finally getting his talons on them once and for all! And-

They shake their head hard to dislodge their panic, and shuffle a little lower in Bumblebee's servos to hide themselves from Knock Out's line of sight. Bumblebee looks down at the human shaking like a twig in his servos, and tilts his helm. What's with the shaking? Why'd they pull his digits up, and around themselves like that? Who could they possibly be afraid of here? …-Wait a minute. Of course.

Bumblebee would recognize the tell-tale click of those pedes anywhere.

"Well well well~! There's no need to stop the party on my account. Do you mind if I get a closer look at this new visitor of ours, Bumblebee?" Knock Out purrs as he draws closer, evidently more interested in the human huddling in the scout's servos than maintaining optic-contact with him.

"No can do, man! -They're -Off the menu! -There's no need -to play coy about your -obsession with them -anyways." Bumblebee growls, annoyed that the supposedly reformed Decepticon would even try to get at the poor human again. Especially right after he'd Just helped them get confident enough around Cybertronians to have a good time hanging out around the base!

This doesn't happen with any other human who happens by the base, by the way. Knock Out is loathe to even think about touching humans, typically. Something about "having taste", and a "refined palette" apparently. Whatever that means. But with BB's Little Pal? He's practically obsessed!

Now, he's fixated on them for a while, sure. But being this obvious about his desire to get his servos on them after he's joined the Autobots is new. New, and concerning.

"Oh fine. If you don't want to run the risk of your -eugh- "Little Pal" getting stolen away by the Big Bad Ex-Con, then why don't we all just sit down somewhere and have a nice, long chat, hhmmm? It'd be nice to catch up with each other after So long, wouldn't it?" Knock Out aims the latter question towards the human in Bumblebee's servos attempting to get a rise out of them, if nothing else.

The human clears their throat, and sits up a little to speak. They don't like the way he's talking to/about them, and they've decided that he's going to hear about it. "You know? I'm not feeling particularly chatty today, but maybe we can have this conversation some other day… … … Ah, what was your name again?"

Knock Out lights up at the sound of their voice, despite being a little put out by their refusal to remember his name. It's only been a few months since they'd been swept up in all of this, and they're already So comfortable talking to him like this. How… Cute.

Though, he really only has to take a step closer to shut his Little Runaway up. A quiet growl arises in his chassis, and he laughs- he Has to. The audacity of this human. If only he'd captured them back at the trainyard, they would have Long since lost the ability to sass him like this. How lucky this Squishy little Mouse must consider themselves- Ahem.

"Oh? Have you truly forgotten about me already? And here I thought our fateful encounter that night would've seared itself into your processor for good, lest you find yourself wandering alone at night the way you had been when I found you." At his human's lack of a pronounced fear reaction, he decides to press on with his little speech. He really shouldn't have to reintroduce himself, the human memory isn't that fallible, is it? He may have to remedy that, personally, if it is.

"I mean, we could have gotten to know each other better back then if only you'd stuck around to socialize. Ah, but I suppose you were a little too focused on winning to think about that now weren't you?" Knock Out's attempt to remain casual about how he lost a game he'd rigged so thoroughly in his favor, fails, and bitterness colors his tone.

Nonetheless, he takes another step closer, and reaches out a servo to lean on a nearby wall. Attempting to get a better view of the little one that got away. Bumblebee, in return, readjusts his grip on his Little Pal to block Knock Out's view even further, and quickly strides around the mad doctor before the human could reply to Knock Out's irritable rant.

Primus, how he loathes the effect Knock Out has on them. The way they're shaking right now, breathing unsteadily, and trying to bury themselves deeper into his servos than they could feasibly go. It sucks! They shouldn't have to put up with him! They've already won his game. They've already gotten away! What does he have to gain by terrifying them like this?!

-Whatever. It doesn't matter. He's going to put as much distance between Knock Out, and his Little Pal as possible. No matter what. "Nope. No way. Not gonna happen. -Optimis- won't be happy to hear about this." He keeps his pace steady to avoid shaking his Little Pal around as he goes, but that only allows the crimson mech to catch up sooner. KO's less than casual stride lets him overtake the scout, and pivot around to face him.

"And he doesn't need to. It isn't like I could do anything to them what with everyone keeping such a close optic on me, anyways." If Bumblebee could look less amused about the current situation, he would.

"You aren't helping your case here, -Knockout! -And besides, if they wanted to talk to you -to see you, -they would've approached you first. -The way they approach me. -There'd be no need for you to try, and corner them like this -at all." Bumblebee flexes what he's come to learn about his Little Pal over time, hoping to get under KO's armor. Weaponizing their well-earned faith in him to prove how easy it is to befriend humans if you don't terrorize them.

No amount of false platitudes from an ex-con is gonna charm him into putting his Little Pal into harm's way. Especially with how often Knock Out looks like a ravenous, starved even, Predacon whenever he catches sight of them. Let alone how he acts after catching a whiff of their fear, eugh. Some things never change, huh? Not even after KO became an Autob-"

Bumblebee feels the human shift in his servos, and only has time enough to look down at them before they pipe up with their trademark sass. "Hey you! Knock Out! Why do you still follow me around anyways, huh? You lost then, you keep losing now, and for what? A snack? Why don't you get a life, and go polish your paint job, or something. It's starting to get sad."

The pair of Cybertronians balk at the human's acerbic comment before Knock Out growls loudly, and makes a grab for them. How dare they speak to him like that! Especially when he could just-... Hold on. Knock Out retracts his reaching servo just in time for heavy footsteps, and rumbling laughter to echo from up the hall. It seems they aren't alone any more.

"Hah! Ohhhh you may need to stop by the Med Bay after this, Doc Knock. Pally got you pretty bad with that one!" Bulkhead pulls up next to the bickering mechs, and pats KO on the shoulder as if to comfort him about getting roasted.

"Yes! Well, to answer your question, Fleshy. I am nothing if not consistent regarding how I choose to spend my time. Now if you'll excuse me." Knock Out brushes Bulkhead's servo off of his shoulder, dusts himself off, and stalks off to the Med Bay. Likely to buff out the cracks the human made in his ego... And the ones Bulkhead made in his shoulder.

He doesn't get to far down the hallway before the human responds with one last grumpily, half-muttered insult. "Yeah... You're consistent alright. A consistent pain in my ass."

Knock Out had turned back to watch them as they spoke, and Oh how he wished he could wipe that look off of their face! They don't even look pleased with themselves about that insult either! It seems comments like those come naturally to them now. Ugh. He stomps off to the Med Bay for real this time, chased away by the sound of the Autobot duo's laughter, and begins to see to his paint job once more. Ignoring Ratchet's judgemental, but silent sidelong glance at him.

That human. His human. Has grown So comfortable around Cybertronians that they feel as though they can talk back to him whenever they damn well please. Why, he'd almost be impressed by their boldness, if it wasn't directed at him. Though he is aware that most of their bravado comes from the support they'd received from their new found allies. Maybe he should've taken that game of his seriously, after all.

-Not a Request Anon

Holy shit dude, this is awesome! It’s like a story within itself! You should totally write a full length fic about this if you’d like to!! You’ve written out the relationship between Knockout and the reader so well with the former’s “redemption” into the Autobot ranks! God, I love the way Bumblebee protects the reader and constantly defends them. It’s like he knows the trust this little human has in Cybertronians, no matter how established, is still very fragile, and there’s no way he’s going to let Knockout ruin the friendship he’s forged with his Little Pal! And AUGH, Knockout still referring to the human as his, even after all that’s happened, it’s so him!!!