#this is all i have for now but it is still important

[prokopetz]

"But doesn't having a notion of 'balanced' combat inherently imply that all combat encounters are expected to be fair and winnable" well, no – it implies only that the GM has the ability to know whether a given combat encounter is fair and winnable.

There's a story that's been going around for decades about a Dungeons & Dragons party who encountered a large room full of treasure while exploring a dungeon. Immediately suspicious, they asked their GM a series of detailed questions about the room, but no obvious dangers were identified. Satisfied, they moved into the room – and were immediately set upon and eaten by the dragon that had been sitting atop the pile of treasure the whole time, which the GM hadn't mentioned because the players never specifically asked about the presence of living creatures within the room.

While this is obviously an extreme and ridiculous case, it illustrates an important point: as GM, you're the group's eyes and ears. If you don't describe something, the player characters literally can't see it – that dragon was effectively invisible from their perspective. The trick is that active malice isn't the only way to invisible-dragon your players; a group can also find themselves invisible-dragoned because the GM simply failed to provide sufficient information for the risk in question to be identified. This can happen through neglect, but it can also happen because the GM themself was unaware that the risk was present.

Now, hold on, you might be saying: the GM "plays" the entire world. How is it possible for the GM not to know that a risk is present? Well, that brings us back around to the subject of combat balance.

A game in which "balanced" combat is a meaningful thing to discuss is typically going to be one in which both the players and the GM are actually making strategic, tactical, and/or logistical decisions, rather than merely producing a description of their characters making such decisions. Without a good handle on the interplay of these decisions, it's completely possible for the GM to be wrong about the level of risk the scenario they've constructed entails.

That's actually pretty critical, because even if you don't care about the game being fair and winnable (and that's a perfectly valid stance), your players are still depending on you to be their eyes and ears, and to give them enough information to make good decisions about whether the fight in front of them is one they can win. A game where not every fight is expected to be winnable needs to be a game where the players have the opportunity to walk away.

No matter how objective you try to be, your own sense of the answer to that question is inevitably going to colour how you communicate about it. You being wrong about the level of risk at hand inherently increases the chance that your players will make bad choices. The party eating a TPK because they made a stupid decision is one thing; the party eating a TPK because they made a decision that looked reasonable from their perspective based on your unwitting miscommunication of the level of risk involved is quite another!

Sure, once the dice hit the table I'm probably going to realise that I fucked up, and I can adjust things on the fly to bring the level of risk that's actually present in line with the level of risk I communicated – but that's extra work I don't need with everything else that's on my plate. And that's a best-case scenario; if I'm running the game for a hardcore let-the-dice-fall-where-they-may group (and such groups tend to have a pretty significant overlap with groups that are cool with not every fight being winnable), I may not be able to adjust the fight's parameters on the fly without violating the social contract of the table.

Basically, whenever I see an OSR game with tactically crunchy combat brag about how its author never even thinks about "balance", what that's telling me is that running this game is going to create a whole lot of extra work for me as a GM. This is not a selling point.

[seat-safety-switch]

Turns out there's a big problem with turning all the world's knowledge over to a machine that doesn't understand when things are outright lies. We forgot how to make so many things in the years after they burned the libraries. Soup, for one. I'm proud to announce that, after billions of dollars, we've turned the corner on soup generation.

Now, if you go out there and you ask the Core Minds how to make soup, they're going to feed you some bullshit about primitive humans eating bones. That's... I don't know where that came from, but it's not right. You gotta, and it took our scientists thousands of hours in the lab to figure this one out, boil the bones. And it also turns out that the crusts of pizza? Those are not bones. Every day, we learn something new that has been conveniently forgotten for us by the bullshit engine.

I'd like to introduce to you our early prototype of chicken noodle soup. Despite the name, the noodles did not come from the chickens, as the machines told us. And you don't have to glue them together, either. Just boil some chicken bones, and then take the chicken bones out – that's very important, we lost a good man that way – and put in some noodles. Maybe some vegetable bones as well. Condoms are not a vegetable, despite what the New York Times just published.

Tastes pretty good, huh? We're still working out the seasoning, which we initially thought involved putting the soup inside an oven set to five hundred degrees Fahrenheit (or approximately -97 Celsius, according to my calculator which also doesn't know what eight plus seven is.) One day, God willing, humanity will figure out where salt comes from once again.

[no-blastbeat-no-applause]

A little while ago I wrote a little something about that. I just finished translating it into english. Here are my thoughts:

Wimp

Thoughts on the patriarchy and why this crap sucks for men too

Queen Energy

I mindlessly let Instagram videos wash over my mind. A sketch wakes me from my pleasant torpor:

A woman dressed in a negligee talks to her husband. She orders him to have sex with her immediately. He says he is tired, he has just come home from work. He doesn't feel like it either. She is not interested. She becomes more direct and aggressive in her statements and demands. All of this culminates in her forcibly shoving a cookie into his mouth, repeating her order and expectantly marching off towards the bedroom.

The comment column is rolling with laughter, congratulates the woman and agrees with her demands. The comments reads something like:

"Her story, her rules, her empire." "Queen energy! This is the vibe we all need!" "Taking what's hers like it was always meant to be"

She should take what she needs; her husband should be a real guy and get it for his wife if and when she wants it.

So the point is: he's a wimp if he doesn't put himself and his needs first. He's not a real man because he doesn't jump when his wife is in the mood.

Let's imagine the gender roles reversed. A man comes home and tells his wife to wait for him naked in the bedroom because he wants to have sex. Regardless of her wishes and desires. Most people would find this behavior unacceptable. And rightly so.

Here though, sexual harassment is portrayed as a joke. Neither the producers nor the recipients seem to be fazed by this.

Such scenes suggest that men always have to be ready and willing. This stereotypical expectation completely ignores the fact that men are also people with boundaries who want to say "yes" or "no". However, in our society - as the comments column impressively shows - they are often denied this choice. Men are not even given the opportunity to prioritize their own wishes because their "yes" is taken for granted. If they do try to set boundaries, they are met with a lack of understanding, rejection, ridicule or even violence. This creates a burden that is subtle but always present.

The video and its comments make fun of a man whose freedom of choice over his own body has been taken away, making him yet another victim of patriarchy and toxic masculinity.

First naked and then alone in the corridor

I was 12 when my mother drove me and my ten-year-old sister to our pediatrician. Everything started as business as usual. The doctor asked us general questions, she took our blood pressure and did what doctors do.

Then something happened that I still remember vividly today. As a burgeoning teenager, I had to get naked from the wais down and lie down on a couch to be examined. My mother and sister both stayed in the room. I was embarrassed. I found it downright agonizing.

The doctor plucked at my penis for several minutes. I didn't know where to look. My face turned bright red and my hands got wet. I was suddenly terribly aware of how my kneecaps felt under my skin.

Then it was finally over.

But now it became particularly irritating: it was my sister's turn. She was facing something similar - with one important difference. I was asked to leave.

Don't get me wrong, I had no interest in participating in my sister's gynecological exam. I just wished that the same consideration had been given to me, a little boy.

My feelings were not ignored, no. No one here had even bothered to take an interest in whether I had any. I was treated with the same respect as the couch in the treatment room. The question of my dignity was about as important as that of the desk.

But that was nothing new for a 12-year-old. After all, I learned to swallow my feelings before I even started elementary school.

"Are you a man or a mouse"?

Of course I'm a man, I'm already four! I suppress every feeling that my environment deems too much or inappropriate.

I've learned that „Indians don't cry.“* Neither do boys. I'm not supposed to make such a fuss and pull myself together.

It eats into your brain. It stays. For almost 40 years and it's still there.

How my tongue got bitten

My aunt was celebrating her sixtieth birthday. The whole thing ended in her favorite pub. We danced, sang, drank and enjoyed ourselves. I chatted with old acquaintances on the edge of the dance floor.

Suddenly, a woman snuck up on me. She started to dance at me aggressively. I found it quite flattering at first. The stranger danced very closely with me, focusing only on me. She made me feel wanted.

But after a while I became uncomfortable. She took it for granted that I would return her advances. She waited for me in front of the toilet. She gave me no opportunity to move without her. She put her arms around me and kissed me on the dance floor.

I didn't want to be seen like this by my family. It was impossible to talk to my friends, my aunt was at the other end of the pub. I told the stranger that I wanted to talk to my family, but she wouldn't let go of me. I spoke to friends, but she pushed her way in.

I could have said "No!" at any time, walked away and enjoyed my evening, sure. But I have internalized the lessons of my youth: my feelings are not important and I have to make my body available, regardless of my own wishes.

I only plucked up the courage to tear myself away when the stranger bit my tongue painfully, because: I didn't kiss her the way she wanted me to.

But even then, at the end of the night, my "No, I don't want that anymore" was met with a complete lack of understanding. She was offended that I was not responding to her wishes. She had never cared about my consensus or my needs.

I was now in a similar role to the man in the sketch: my feelings were put on the back burner in order to offer a woman what she wanted at that moment.

Neither the lady in the sketch nor the stranger at the pub inquired about the wishes of the men in question. None of them asked for consensus. None of them took what they were explicitly told seriously, because they, like all of us, have internalized these toxic patterns of thought and behaviour.

As a farewell, I got a contemptuous "wimp" shouted after me.

And why all this?

I am well aware that the people who suffer most from patriarchy are, of course, those who do not appear traditionally male to society. Women, intersex and trans people, all non-cis-hetero men, should by no means be ignored here. My perspective, however, is that of a cis-het man.

We men are taught that our feelings are not important. We have to be tough and endure instead of being vulnerable and talking openly about our needs. Our bodies are common property. We learn to accept assault and laugh it off.

• The woman in the negligee wants sex? Then go ahead! No matter what the man wants.

• The boy is ashamed to be looked at naked by three women? He shouldn't behave like that!

• A stranger decides you're her plaything this night? Fuck your wishes and your family!

If we don't conform to the norms, we are wimps. We are considered unmanly. We're not real guys.

We need to recognize the harmful influence of sexism on men.

While patriarchy generally privileges men, it also subjects us to restrictive gender roles that harm us.

Even those who are considered the most powerful in the patriarchal hierarchy suffer from it.

The supposed masters turn themselves into the oppressed.

Toxic masculinity harms us and everyone around us.

Sometimes I do wonder if men actually get sexually assaulted and abused at a similar rate that women do but a lot of them just don’t know that’s what’s happening to them

[holyblonded]

beggin’ | stargirl

pairings: alexia putellas x teen!reader

summary: you beg alexia for a dog but she doesn’t believe your responsible enough

warnings: dog slander, hurt animal

notes: eagles won and i have been on a high 😭 but classes are canceled this week cause of the snow so enjoy

“So you hate me? Because that’s all I’m hearing,” you argued, trailing after Alexia as the two of you walked into the weight room.

The gym was already buzzing with activity—Aitana and Patri doing resistance band workouts, Mapi and Ingrid spotting each other on the bench press, and Vicky and Ona lazily stretching while gossiping about God knows what. You, however, were too focused on your current battle.

Alexia exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was already exhausted. “Estrelleta, no vuelvas a decir eso. Te quiero con todo mi corazón, pero no. (don’t say that again. i love you with all my heart, but no)”

The finality in her voice crushed your hopes… Again.

With a defeated sigh, you dramatically slid yourself down the nearest wall like your world had just ended. Ona and Vicky immediately burst into laughter at your theatrics.

“Oh no, she’s gonna start monologuing,” Vicky teased.

“Tragic,” Ona added, shaking her head.

Before you could hit full sulking mode, a tattooed hand appeared in front of your face. Lucy.

“Come on, drama queen,” she said, effortlessly yanking you off the floor and throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Still trying to convince La Reina?”

“She’s immune to my suffering,” you mumbled, allowing yourself to be guided toward the treadmill.

“What is it now?” Lucy asked, already looking amused.

“The puppy,” Ona answered for you, smirking. “She’s been denied again.”

Lucy clicked her tongue. “Rough.”

“Right?” You sighed as you climbed onto the treadmill, setting it to the slowest possible speed. “She doesn’t understand how much this means to me.”

“I understand perfectly,” Alexia called out from across the room without even looking at you. “I also understand that I do not need a dog destroying my apartment.”

“But I’d train it so well!” You protested, turning dramatically in her direction, which nearly sent you stumbling off the treadmill. Lucy had to grab your arm to keep you upright.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucy chuckled. “You can barely train yourself.”

Vicky and Ona snickered from their mats.

“Et tu, Brute?” You gasped at Lucy’s betrayal.

“I’m just saying, if Alexia says no, you’re not winning that battle,” Lucy shrugged. “She’s got the stubborn gene.”

“No one’s ever won an argument against her,” Ona added.

“Except Irene,” Vicky pointed out.

“Yeah, but that’s because Irene fights dirty,” Lucy laughed.

You crossed your arms, still pouting. “I refuse to give up. She can’t resist me forever.”

Alexia, now stretching with Aitana, turned to glance at you. “Try me.”

The weight room erupted with laughter, and even you couldn’t help but grin. You weren’t giving up, though. One way or another, you were getting that puppy.

The apartment was dimly lit, candles flickering on the coffee table, giving the illusion of an intimate, important gathering. Alexia and Olga sat on the couch, arms crossed, faces unreadable, as you stood in front of them, remote in hand, ready to present your magnum opus.

A massive title slide was projected onto the TV screen:

“WHY I, ESTRELLITA, DESERVE A DOG (AND WHY YOU SHOULD LET ME HAVE ONE)”

You cleared your throat dramatically. “Ladies and, well, just ladies—thank you for coming tonight. I know you’re busy, Alexia with captaining, Olga with being very sexy, but this is a matter of utmost importance.”

Olga smirked, clearly enjoying herself. Alexia, on the other hand, was already rubbing her temples. Not a great start, but you pressed on.

“Slide one, please.”

You clicked the remote, and the next slide popped up. “REASONS I NEED A DOG” was written in bold letters, accompanied by an image of the saddest, most heartbroken puppy you could find on Google.

“Point one,” you began, pacing like a lawyer in a high-stakes courtroom drama. “Companionship. As a hardworking footballer and occasional agent of chaos, I deal with immense stress. A dog will provide me with emotional support, cuddles, and, most importantly, unconditional love.”

“You literally live with us,” Alexia interrupted.

“Exactly,” you shot back. “And yet, somehow, I still feel alone.”

“Wow,” Olga muttered, biting her lip to keep from laughing.

“Moving on,” you said quickly, clicking to the next slide.

This one had a picture of you edited into a stock image of someone running with a golden retriever. “EXERCISE AND FITNESS!”

“A dog will encourage me to stay active outside of training! Long walks, jogs, and playful activities will not only keep me fit but also keep me in peak condition for Barça. You both want me in peak condition, don’t you?”

“Or,” Alexia said, unimpressed, “you could just… go on a run.”

“Who am I, Eliud Kipchoge? No. I need a motivator.”

Alexia sighed. Olga, to your delight, nodded thoughtfully. “She makes a good point, Ale. Running with a dog is more fun.”

You gasped dramatically. “Thank you, my ally!”

“Don’t call her that,” Alexia warned.

Next slide.

“RESPONSIBILITY & MATURITY”

“With a dog, I will develop a deeper sense of responsibility,” you declared proudly. “I will wake up early to feed it, I will train it, I will clean up after it—“

Alexia held up a hand. “You literally leave your socks in the living room for days.”

“That’s different,” you argued. “A dog is a living being. My socks are… just socks.”

“You also ‘forget’ to take to take the trash out,” Alexia finished for you, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, but in my defense, the trash doesn’t wag its tail and look at me with big, adorable eyes when it wants to go outside,” you shot back, clicking to the next slide before she could counter.

This one was titled “LOOK AT THESE DOGS AND TELL ME YOU DON’T WANT ONE” and featured an entire collage of the cutest, most heart-melting puppy pictures you could find.

Olga audibly gasped. Alexia, despite her best efforts, blinked a few too many times at a particularly fluffy golden retriever puppy in the center.

“You like that one, don’t you?” you asked smugly, pointing at the screen.

“No,” Alexia said quickly, looking away.

“She totally does,” Olga whispered, nudging her.

“Fine,” Alexia huffed. “Yes, it’s cute. But cuteness is not a reason to adopt an animal!”

“That is literally the best reason to adopt an animal!” you argued.

Alexia groaned and slumped back into the couch. Olga, however, was still staring at the pictures, and you knew you had her right where you wanted her.

Click. Next slide.

“POSSIBLE NAMES FOR OUR FUTURE DOG”

“What do you mean ‘our’ future dog?” Alexia interrupted, sitting up again.

“Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue!” you said quickly. “Now, first name option: Messi.”

“Absolutely not,” Alexia deadpanned.

“Fine, fine. Option two: Little Estrella, or Estrellita Junior.”

“Pass,” Olga snorted.

“Okay, okay,” you sighed dramatically. “Final suggestion: Captain Paws or Captain Culer.”

Olga nodded her voice breaking the silence. “That’s actually not bad.”

“Thank you!” you beamed.

Alexia groaned, rubbing her face. “This is ridiculous.”

Click.

The final slide appeared, in all its dramatic glory: “WHY YOU SHOULD SAY YES – AN EMOTIONAL APPEAL” with a giant photo of you, making your best sad, pleading puppy eyes.

You turned to them, arms spread. “In conclusion, I am but a simple footballer, yearning for the love of a small, fluffy creature. I ask for nothing—except this one thing, this one chance at happiness. Will you grant it?”

Silence stretched in the room. You held your breath.

Olga exhaled, turning to Alexia. “You know, I think she’s really thought this through—”

“Don’t encourage her,” Alexia muttered.

“Alexia,” you said, your voice trembling dramatically, “are you really going to stand in the way of my happiness? My growth? My dreams?”

Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, then finally groaned in defeat. “If—IF—we get a dog, it’s on you. You feed it. You walk it. You clean up after it. And the first time you forget, it’s my dog. Understood?”

Your eyes widened. “Are you saying…?”

“I’m saying I’m considering it,” Alexia sighed.

You let out an ear-splitting cheer, immediately lunging at her and wrapping her in a suffocating hug.

“Best decision of your life, Cap!”

“I already regret it,” Alexia muttered, but you could see the tiniest, smallest smile on her lips.

Olga clapped, laughing. “Well, I guess we’re getting a dog.”

You turned, grinning mischievously. “Now, about getting two—”

“Don’t push it,” Alexia warned.

The moment the final whistle blew, you sprinted over to Alexia like a woman on a mission. Your captain barely had time to process what was happening before you clung to her arm like a koala, bouncing up and down excitedly.

“Did you see? Did you see?” you exclaimed, practically vibrating with energy.

“I saw that we won and you scored a goal,” Alexia responded dryly, trying (and failing) to shake you off.

“Not that! That!” You pointed wildly into the stands, where a fan was proudly holding up a neon pink sign that read in massive, glittery letters: “LET ESTRELLA GET A DOG!”

Alexia stared at it, then slowly turned to look at you.

“You didn’t,” she said.

“Oh, but I did,” you grinned. “Posted it on my story this morning. The people have spoken, Ale. The movement has begun.”

“Estrelleta.” Alexia pinched the bridge of her nose, inhaling like she was gathering the last ounce of patience left in her body.

Aitana jogged over, took one look at the sign, and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, you’re actually rallying the fans?”

“Absolutely,” you said proudly. “Strength in numbers.”

Alexia rubbed her temples like she was fighting off a migraine. “You are unbelievable.”

“But lovable,” you shot back.

“That is debatable,” she muttered, but you could see the tiniest twitch of a smile at the corner of her lips.

As you all made your way off the pitch, you continued your relentless campaign.

“You know, Ale, dogs are great stress relievers,” you pointed out. “And I know how much stress you have. Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to a happy little fluffball that loves you unconditionally?”

“I already have you for that,” she deadpanned.

“Okay, rude,” you huffed. “But imagine—just imagine—a tiny puppy running towards you after a long day. Tail wagging. Ears flopping. Looking up at you with those big, round eyes—”

“You are not winning me over with emotional manipulation,” Alexia interrupted, stepping into the tunnel.

“Okay, but what if I told you I already have a list of shelters we can visit?”

“Of course you do,” she sighed.

Back in the locker room, you continued your noble mission. Even while changing out of your kit, you pestered her.

“Alexia, picture this: me, walking a dog in our neighborhood. Think of the aesthetic.”

“Alexia, a dog would be great company when you’re watching game footage.”

“Alexia, if we get a golden retriever, we could name it Oro! Like gold! Get it?”

“Alexia, please—”

“Y/n,” Alexia finally cut you off, slamming her locker shut. “I love you. But if you mention a dog one more time today, I will personally call Nike and have them cancel your entire cleat line.”

Your eyes widened in horror. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

You gasped dramatically, clutching your chest like she had just stabbed you. “I thought you cared about my happiness!”

“I do. Which is why I am going to shower in peace now, without hearing the word ‘dog’ for the next ten minutes,” she said, pointing at you warningly before walking off.

You pouted, watching her go.

Ona and Vicky, who had been eavesdropping the whole time, exchanged amused glances.

“You’re really not giving up on this, huh?” Vicky asked.

“Absolutely not,” you said with determination. “She’ll cave. She always does.”

Ona grinned. “I give it a week.”

“Ale will last at least two,” Vicky countered.

You smirked. “She’ll break in five days. Maximum.”

And with that, you pulled out your phone and posted another story: “THE MOVEMENT CONTINUES. #LetEstrellaGetADog”—complete with a picture of the fan sign from the stands.

Because if Alexia thought this battle was over, she had another thing coming.

The storm outside was relentless, rain lashing against the windows as thunder rumbled through the streets of Barcelona. The second you slipped through the front door, you knew you were in trouble.

You weren’t exactly subtle about it.

For one, you were soaked—dripping water all over the floor like some stray cat who’d just climbed out of a sewer. Your shoes squelched with every step as you walked to the stairs, and to make matters worse, you were gripping the straps of your suspiciously bulky backpack like your life depended on it.

“Estrelleta.”

You froze mid-step, eyes darting toward the living room.

Alexia stood there, arms crossed, her expression radiating ‘I am fed up with everything what have you done.’ Behind her, Olga was peeking over the couch, squinting like she was a detective in a crime drama.

“Uh… hey,” you tried, flashing a completely innocent smile.

Alexia’s eyes narrowed immediately. “What’s in the bag?”

“Nothing!” You answered too quickly.

Olga sat up straighter. “Then why do you look like you just robbed a bank?”

“I—what? That’s crazy!” You let out a nervous laugh, gripping the straps even tighter. “Can’t a person come home after a refreshing walk in the rain without being accused of high-level felonies?”

“In a thunderstorm?” Alexia deadpanned.

“…Hydration is important?”

Alexia didn’t even blink.

You took a careful step backward toward the stairs. “Anyway! I am so tired. I’m just gonna go upstairs—”

“Give me the bag.”

“Ale, let’s be rational about this—”

Alexia was already walking toward you, and before you could flee for your life, she snatched the zipper and yanked it open.

Immediately, a tiny, miserable whimper came from inside. Olga gasped as Alexia’s soul left her body.

Very, very slowly, you reached into the bag and pulled out a tiny, soaked, shivering puppy.

The little Presa Canario pup blinked up at them with big, glossy eyes, looking like the saddest little gremlin on the planet. One of his tiny paws was wrapped in a bandage, and his whole body trembled as he let out a soft, tragic little huff.

Olga? Immediate meltdown.

“Oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing his tiny face. “HE’S A BABY!”

Alexia on the other hand… immediate crisis.

“Estrelleta.”

“Before you say anything.” you blurted, clutching the puppy to your chest like a newborn child, “he was alone in the rain, Ale! He was limping, and he looked so scared, and I couldn’t just leave him!”

Olga was already cooing at the puppy, rubbing his ears. “Look at his little nose!”

“Look at his little future as a massive security risk,” Alexia countered, rubbing her temples. “Do you realize how big Presa Canarios get?”

“Big enough to protect our home!” you argued immediately. “It’s like free security! We won’t need an alarm system anymore!”

“You don’t even lock the front door half the time.”

“Because I’m trusting!”

“Because you’re an easy target for burglars.”

The puppy, sensing tension, let out a tiny, heartbreaking sneeze and rested his head on your arm like some kind of Oscar-winning performance in sadness.

Olga audibly gasped. “Ale, LOOK AT HIM. He’s one of us now!”

Alexia sighed like a parent catching their kid trying to sneak dessert before dinner. The puppy lifted his injured little paw like he was saying ‘help me, ma’am.’

Alexia groaned, rubbing her face. “I hate both of you.”

“So that’s a yes?” you asked hopefully.

“That’s a ‘we’re going to the vet first thing in the morning’,” Alexia muttered. “Then we’re going to the pet store, because we don’t have a single thing for a dog in this house.”

You and Olga erupted into cheers, bouncing the puppy happily between you.

“Thank you, Ale!” you beamed. “You won’t regret this!”

“I already do,” Alexia muttered, but her lips were twitching upward anyway.

[sexlapis]

one shot. angst & fluff.

“Don’t even look at me!” You spit at Nanami. “You don’t even fucking love me anymore.”

Nanami sighs. “Baby, that’s not-“”

“No, no,” you storm away from, going back to furiously washing the dishes like you were doing before he arrived home from work, “seriously. Just go back to your coworkers and have fun with them instead of me. Go have drinks with them or something. Since that’s clearly what you want.”

Nanami gulps. He watches you angrily scrub at a dish, fireing away at an annoying stain.

He takes off his suit jacket.

“Sweetheart.” He walks up behind you, like you’re a skittish, feral cat about to pounce. He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, an act which you surprisingly accept. “I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t give you your kisses.” Nanami kisses your temple. “I was just in a hurry.”

You and Nanami had a routine - he gives you one kiss in the morning, your voice croaky and the crust still caked in the corners of your eyes and one kiss before he leaves for work.

He seems to have forgotten this, much to your dismay.

You huff, not facing him. “…I’m not being ‘sensitive’ or ‘crazy’. They’re important things and you forgot.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

You turn your head to face him this time. “Just sensitive?”

“Well…yes.”

Rolling your eyes, you whip back around to continue washing the dishes.

“Wait. Wait.” Nanami prevents you from turning away from him again. He asks his next question softly. “Is it really just two kisses you’re upset about?”

“Because it’s not fair, Kento!” You shout. The sudden outburst stuns him a little, his heart jumping. “You can’t just leave without saying goodbye!”

Your last word is choked out in a sob and Nanami is quick to pull you to his chest.

He thought you were only joking, being light-hearted and would go back to your usual self after a few kisses, but now? He doesn’t think so.

How long have you been feeling like this? Carrying all of these feelings of worry and distress inside of you, keeping them all stored inside of you until, inevitably, all would be revealed anyway.

It pains him that you didn’t tell him almost as much as the fact that you’re feeling like this in the first place.

It makes him even more resolute in his decision.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this?”

You sniffle. “Because of your stupid job and your stupid long hours and your stupid-“”

“Okay, okay.” He shushes you, cupping the base of your head. “Alright”.

You groan. You’ve seemingly come to the realisation that you’ve been acting unreasonably.

“Kenny, I-“”

“I’m going to quit.”

You pause. You look at him, teary eyes wide. “What?”

“I’m going to quit. Do something else. Something…safe.”

“But…but what about when you said-“”

“Forget about what I said. I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. I can’t do this forever. And…I want you to…I don’t want you to always be worrying about me. Especially if it makes you so stressed out.”

“Kenny…”

A few seconds later, your face is being cradled in big, rough hands. Nanami makes sure you’re looking at him. “You’re my number one priority, okay? Not my coworkers. Not my job.”

Waters ripples in your eyes once more. “Kento…”

“Don’t cry.” He wipes a stray tear away with his thumb. His eyes are soft. The weight of the job is already being lifted off of his shoulders. “I love you. I love you.”

You hiccup. “I love you too.”

Nanami can’t help but smile at your wet face, red nose and runny nostrils. He cradles the back of your head with his hand. “You’re so silly, angel.”

You whine into his chest and he knows everything will be alright.

[pbaz7]

FLIGHT 2136: PART 3

paige x azzi

warning: mentions car accident

word count: 10.3k

A/N: I have literally never written anything like this so I hope it comes across correctly. I swear some of your answers are in this chapter just be patient. Let me know what you think please 🫶🏼

—————————————————————————

3rd Person POV - Friday

The morning light filtered softly through the hotel curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. Azzi blinked a few times to adjust her eyes to the bright rays filing in, slowly waking her up to the quiet stillness of the room. Her gaze naturally drifted to Paige, who was still fast asleep beside her, the steadiness of her breathing reflecting her deep slumber.

Azzi watched her for a moment, taking in the sight of her in a way she hadn’t been able to before. The blanket had shifted considerably, low on Paige’s waist, and she was lying on her stomach, her hair a little messy on the pillow. Azzi’s gaze softened as she noticed how naturally beautiful Paige was, the little details that made her feel more real, more alive. The sunlight caught in Paige’s hair, highlighting certain strands that framed her face, even in her sleep.

Her eyes traced the sharpness of Paige's jaw, the arch of her nose, the curve of her lips that were relaxed in slumber. As Azzi looked at her she noticed that there was a scar, small and barely visible, near Paige's hairline. Azzi’s finger itched to trace it, to figure out the story associated with it, but she stayed still, careful not to disturb her. The quiet intimacy of the moment was too precious to ruin with a thoughtless action like that.

Her gaze moved lower, her eyes looking at the scar on Paige’s torso—the one from last night. It was more visible when Paige was facing her, but now, with her turned on her stomach, Azzi could only make out a small portion of it, curving along her side and reaching toward her back just slightly.

In the stillness, Azzi felt the weight of the moment, the growing sense of curiosity she had about Paige. She realized, then, just how little she truly knew about her—the person she had shared what felt like many lingering moments with in the past few days. Still, there were so many layers left to explore, so much left to understand.

It wasn’t lost on Azzi how much she wanted to know, how much she yearned to unravel the mysteries that Paige held beneath the surface. It felt like the beginning of something important, something bigger than just a random night in a hotel room. For now, though Azzi was content to just be here, beside her, breathing in the quietness of the morning as she gathered her thoughts.

Azzi lay there for a moment longer, watching Paige as she slept, it was all so peaceful. It felt weird, she could’ve stayed in that moment forever, but after a while, Azzi shifted slightly, careful not to disturb Paige. She slowly reached over the edge of the bed to grab her phone from her pocket, making sure not to make too much noise.

She unlocked it and couldn’t help but chuckle when she saw a text from Caroline pop up first: You still alive? Hope it was good.” Azzi typed a reply, “Yes, I’m alive and please relax.” A few more notifications popped up and Azzi spent a few minutes responding, her fingers moving across the screen.

The next time she glanced over at Paige, she noticed the subtle shift in her posture. Paige’s eyelids fluttered a little, and the quiet signs of waking up were starting to show. Azzi couldn’t help but smile to herself, lowering her phone as Paige slowly began to blink her eyes open.

Paige squinted slightly, clearly still adjusting to the morning light that filtered in through the window. Her eyes, that seemed to be a deeper blue with the way the sun was hitting them, met Azzi’s, a soft glimmer of awareness and curiosity in them. There was something so serene about the way Paige looked at her, a sense of familiarity already settling in, even though they had only known each other for such a short time.

Paige stretched a little, still blinking as she finally spoke in a raspy morning voice, “Morning.” She looked at Azzi for a beat longer, still processing the shift from sleep to reality.

Azzi couldn’t help but grin, the corners of her mouth moving upward as she replied, “Morning. You look like you just got out of a coma.”

Paige’s lips twitched, her eyes still half-lidded as she fought a smile. “Yeah? You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Azzi laughed softly, the moment between them feeling more natural than anything they had shared before. The tension that had once seemed so thick between them now seemed to have lifted, replaced with something lighter.

Paige’s gaze flickered to Azzi’s phone, still in her hand. “Telling your friends how good I was already?”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Sure something like that,” she replied playfully. She lowered the phone and moved it to the side before she turned back to Paige. “So, how’d you sleep?”

Paige stretched once more, the slight stretch of her body revealing more of the scar near her side that Azzi had seen the night before.

"Like a rock," Paige said, her voice still a little horse. "You?" she asked, turning to Azzi who had the sheet covering her chest.

Azzi chuckled. "Yeah, better than I’ve slept in a while."

Paige kept her gaze fixed on Azzi, still lying there with her head on the pillow. "So, what now?"

Azzi smiled a little, the corners of her lips curling up. "I was hoping you'd know."

Paige returned the smile, raising an eyebrow. "Me? I thought you were the one with all the answers."

Azzi shrugged, not answering right away. Instead, she glanced at the clock on the nightstand. "What time is your flight?"

"6:15," Paige replied.

Azzi hummed quietly, not saying anything else for a moment as she just looked straight ahead. Paige, still looking at her, propped her head up with her hand, studying Azzi’s profile as her eyes danced over Azzi’s face.

Azzi shifted slightly, meeting Paige’s gaze again. "Stop looking at me like that."

Paige grinned. "Like what?"

Azzi let out a soft sigh. "Like you just had sex with me last night."

Paige laughed softly, the sound completely unguarded. "I did have sex with you last night."

Azzi smirked, shaking her head completely at a loss for words. The atmosphere between them felt so easy.

Randomly Azzi says, “Tell me something about you.”

Paige chuckled as she sat up, her shoulder brushing against Azzi’s. “What do you want to know?” she asked, her amusement with the question clear.

Azzi shrugged, her brown eyes warm but curious. “Anything.”

Paige thought for a moment, tilting her head slightly before offering, “Um…Well I’m 22.”

Azzi immediately cut in, unimpressed. “That’s boring, and I already know that.”

Paige laughed. “You didn’t even let me finish.”

Azzi smirked, motioning for her to continue. “Alright, go on.”

Paige licked her lips, thinking for another second before continuing, “I’m 22. My birthday is October 20th. Um… I like purple.” She trailed off, her mind suddenly blank on what else to add.

Azzi gave her an exaggerated look before deadpanning, “Wow. I feel like I’ve known you for years.”

Paige scoffed, shoving Azzi’s arm playfully. “Shut up.”

Azzi grinned, shaking her head. “I’m serious, that was definitely life-changing information.”

Before Paige could respond her phone ringing cut off her thought process, making both Paige and Azzi glance toward the desk where it was sitting. Paige sighed before pushing herself up, stretching her arms over her head as she walked over in just her boxers and sports bra. Azzi’s eyes lingered for a moment, biting her lip slightly as she took in the way the light outlined the toned muscles of her back.

Paige glanced at the caller ID before answering. “Hello.”

Azzi stayed in bed, half-listening as she tried to piece together the conversation once she heard Geno’s voice. She could hear his voice through the speaker, though not clearly enough to make out every word. Something about wanting Paige to come by campus for a bit before her flight since she didn’t have much time to officially meet the team and hangout with them yesterday. Paige hummed in response here and there, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk when she noticed Azzi watching her.

Paige hung up a few moments later, still smiling as she turned back toward the bed. Before she could explain, Azzi’s phone started ringing. She frowned when she saw Geno’s name on the screen, glancing at Paige, who shrugged before disappearing into the bathroom.

Azzi exhaled and answered. “Hey, Coach.”

“Paige is coming to campus in about 20 minutes. I’m sending her your number so she can call you when she gets there. Make sure she feels comfortable,” Geno instructed, his voice casual yet expectant.

Azzi bit back a smile even though he couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I got it. Don’t worry.”

Geno seemed satisfied with that and ended the call. Azzi sighed, tossing her phone on the bed before standing up and stretching. While looking for her shirt her eyes landed on Paige’s black oversized shirt from yesterday, thrown over the chair. Without thinking much of it, she grabbed it and slipped it on. It was small, but she caught a faint trace of Paige’s scent on the fabric and it felt strangely intimate. As if they hadn’t just woken up in the same bed.

She walked toward the bathroom, leaning against the doorway as she watched Paige brush her teeth.

Paige caught Azzi’s reflection in the mirror, her gaze flickering down to the black shirt draped over Azzi’s frame before meeting her eyes again. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she mumbled through the toothpaste, “Looks good on you.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, shifting her weight against the doorframe. “Please don’t start.”

Paige chuckled, spitting into the sink before rinsing her mouth. She turned around, leaning back on the counter as she reached for the towel. “I’m just saying.”

Azzi scoffed, but there was a slight tug at her lips, betraying what she was about to say. “Don’t get used to it.”

Paige just smirked, tilting her head slightly as she looked at Azzi like she knew something she wasn’t saying. Azzi held her gaze for a moment before shaking her head, pushing off the doorframe. “Hurry up,” she said, turning back toward the bed. “I’m not gonna be the reason you’re late.”

Paige watched her go, her smirk still lingering as she wiped her face.

Paige walked out of the bathroom and settled for throwing on a hoodie and a pair of sweats. Turning back toward the bed, she grabbed an extra pair of sweatpants and some boxers and tossed them to Azzi.

Azzi caught them easily saying. “Thank you,” as she slipped them on.

Once they were both ready and Azzi grabbed all of her clothes, they stepped out of Paige’s room.

When they got outside there was a slight breeze as they made their way to Caroline’s car. Azzi unlocked it and slid into the driver’s seat while Paige got in the passenger seat, a lingering smile still tugging at her lips.

Azzi caught the look and sighed, shaking her head as she started the car. “You’re still smirking.”

Paige shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”

Azzi gave her a pointed look before exhaling a small laugh. “You don’t have to, it's litrally all over your face.”

Paige chuckled but didn’t say anything else, letting the conversation fade into a comfortable silence, the soft hum of the car filling the space between them as they drove toward campus.

When they arrived, Azzi pulled into Caroline’s usual parking spot and turned off the engine. They stepped out, making their way up the stairs to Azzi’s suite.

The second Azzi pushed open the door, she was met with Caroline and Ice lounging on the couch. Both of them took one look at her, eyes dropping to the clothes in her hand before flicking to the shirt and sweats she was wearing. Matching smirks immediately spread across both of their faces.

Azzi paused for half a second before exhaling through her nose, already regretting the situation.

Paige followed, moving into view just enough to lift a hand in a wordless acknowledgment. Ice and Caroline’s eyebrows lifted slightly, clearly not expecting to see her here, both of them thankful they kept their mouths shut for a second.

Azzi kept her expression neutral as she said, “Geno wants us all to hang out with her today before she leaves.”

They both nodded, but the smirks never left their faces. Azzi didn’t entertain it, instead glancing at Paige for a second. She immediately noticed the shift—how Paige’s energy had seemed to dim. Her entire demeanor was more reserved now, quieter, a stark contrast to how she’d been that morning in the hotel of just moments ago in the car.

Azzi frowned slightly before saying, “You can just come with me until the rest of them get here.”

Paige met her eyes briefly before nodding, following Azzi deeper into the suite and into her room.

When they got to Azzi’s room, she shut the door behind her while Paige settled into the chair in front of her desk. Azzi moved to her closet, tossing her clothes inside before straightening up and turning back toward Paige.

Paige was looking around, taking in the space with quiet curiosity. Azzi leaned against the closet door, watching her for a moment before asking, “Is it what you expected?”

Paige glanced at her and nodded. “Surprisingly, yeah.”

Azzi chuckled, grabbing her phone and sending a message to the group chat, telling them all to come to her suite courtesy of Geno. Almost instantly, the message started getting likes, but she didn’t linger on it. Placing her phone down, she looked back at Paige.

“I’ll be right back. I’m gonna go brush my teeth and make myself presentable,” Azzi said.

Paige gave a small nod, and with that, Azzi slipped out of the room, making sure she shut the door behind her.

Left alone, Paige let out a soft exhale, her gaze drifting across the room until it landed on a corkboard hanging on the wall. It was filled with pictures—Azzi’s life in high school and college. Paige leaned forward slightly, eyes tracing over the pictures, and before she realized it, a small smile had formed on her lips.

When Azzi returned from the bathroom, her hair was pulled up into a messy bun, a few loose strands framing her face. She shut the door behind her again and moved to lean against the desk, standing just a few inches from where Paige was sitting, her leg brushing against Paige’s knee.

Paige glanced up at her, eyes flicking to her hair before smirking slightly. “Cute.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Me or the bun?”

Paige shrugged. “Both.”

Azzi rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the way her lips twitched. “You’re lucky you’re charming.”

Paige leaned back in the chair, spreading her legs a bit more. “I know.”

Azzi gave her a look, smiling at her. “Oh, you’re back now, huh?”

Paige tilted her head. “Back?”

Azzi motioned toward the door with her chin. “You got a little stoic out there.”

Paige exhaled through her nose, shaking her head. “Just wasn’t in the mood to be the center of attention first thing in the morning to strangers.”

Azzi studied her for a moment before nudging her knee with her own. “Well, it’s just us now.”

Paige grinned up at her. “Yeah?” Paige licked her lips as she looked up at Azzi, “So what you wanna do about it?”

Azzi shook her head, biting her lip slightly to stop a smile. “I should’ve left you in the hotel.”

Paige chuckled, tilting her head back against the chair as she looked up at Azzi. “Too late now.”

“Unfortunately.”

Paige kept her eyes on Azzi, her gaze unwavering. It made Azzi shift slightly, the intensity of it throwing her off.

“Stop,” Azzi muttered

Paige raised an eyebrow. "Stop what?"

"You’ve had that look on your face since you woke up."

Paige just hummed in response, the smirk never leaving her lips as she continued looking up at Azzi.

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “Can you at least tell me what you’re thinking?”

Paige slouched further against the chair, her legs spread slightly, and lazily shook her head. “No.”

Azzi didn’t respond immediately, just studied her, trying to decipher whatever was running through her mind. Paige, still lounging effortlessly, absentmindedly started playing with the hem of her shirt that Azzi was wearing.

Azzi glanced down at her hand before raising an eyebrow. Without hesitation, she swatted Paige’s hand away.

Paige scoffed at the action.

From down the hall, the sound of voices grew louder, the unmistakable clamor of the team filling the suite.

“I think the team’s here,” Azzi murmured, straightening up from the desk as she glanced toward the door.

Paige didn’t respond. Instead she took a moment before she stood up, immediately in Azzi’s space—close enough that Azzi could feel the warmth radiating off her. They both noticed the closeness but neither of them moved, locked in a quiet stare.

Azzi looked Paige up and down with a small smirk playing on her face. “You know if you want to–”

KK’s voice rang out through the suite and interrupted whatever Azzi was about to say, “Azzi, stop hogging the recruit!”

Azzi chuckled, while Paige simply exhaled through her nose. Without a word, she stepped back, casually shoving her hands into her pockets before following Azzi out of the room.

As they stepped out of Azzi’s room, the noise in the suite became more apparent. The team was already gathered, everyone lounging in comfortable clothes—sweats, sweatshirts, sneakers—looking relaxed. No one made any formal introductions again, but the moment Paige stepped into the living room, the attention shifted to her. They all greeted her, some with friendly smiles and others with more playful words trying to immediately make her feel comfortable, but the ease of the atmosphere didn’t seem to reach Paige fully as she sat down on the couch and Azzi walked to the other side of the room.

As soon as Paige sat down KK took a seat next to her, KK’s natural energy radiating off of her as she looked at Paige. “So,” KK said, trying to strike up a conversation, “What makes you not boring like everybody else? Gimme something good.”

Paige glanced over at her, her lips curling up in a small, reserved smile. “Um, I don’t know,” she said, shrugging slightly. “I play basketball. That’s pretty much it.”

KK groaned but pressed on. “Okay, but what do you like to do when you’re not playing? There has to be something interesting about you.”

Paige didn’t answer right away, her gaze flicking to the others in the room as if searching for something to latch onto. Finally, she let out a breath and gave a half-smile, her eyes momentarily flicking back to Azzi who was standing by the counter. “I don’t have much time for hobbies these days honestly. Mostly just rehab and working out, been doing a lot of visits and when I’m not doing any of those I watch my team practice. Homework I don’t know.”

Aubrey nodded, chiming into the conversation. “That’s fair,” she said. “But I mean, everyone has something outside basketball, right? You like any movies or music? Come on, give us something. You sound like a robot dawg.”

Paige’s jaw tightened slightly, and she leaned back a little more on the couch, her posture still casual but distant. “I mean yeah I like music. R&B, mostly, a little of everything though” she replied, her voice steady but a little guarded.

The conversation kept going, but it was clear that Paige wasn’t opening up much. She was here physically, but emotionally she was closed off. There was confidence in her responses—no hesitation, no awkwardness—but not much more. She didn’t offer much beyond what was necessary to keep the conversation moving or to answer direct questions they asked her.

Azzi caught the shift in Paige’s demeanor the moment she looked over and saw Paige staring off into space, her finger absentmindedly spinning the ring on her hand. It was subtle, but Azzi noticed. Azzi pushed off the counter, excusing herself from the conversation with Ashlynn and Jana, and made her way over to where Paige was sitting on the couch.

She lowered herself into the seat next to her, close enough that their legs brushed together.

“Whatcha thinkin about?”

Paige blinked, breaking out of her thoughts, and her eyes slowly shifted over to Azzi. A faint smile appeared on her face. She shook her head. “Nothing much.”

Azzi didn’t buy it. “I don’t believe you,” she said simply.

Paige chuckled, a small and unconvincing sound, before her gaze shifted back to the group as the noise around them seemed to fill the air.

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Are you uncomfortable?”

Paige quickly shook her head. “Not uncomfortable, just… not much to say really.”

Azzi muttered under her breath, almost too quietly to hear, but Paige caught it. “You sure had a lot to say last night.”

Paige chuckled at this, tilting her head slightly as she met Azzi’s gaze. “I don’t think you wanna get into that with me right now,” she murmured.

Azzi held her gaze, her lips twitching, but before either of them could push further, a voice cut through the moment.

“Yo, Paige!” Aubrey called from across the room.

Paige let the stare linger for a second longer before finally tearing her eyes away, turning toward Aubrey. “Yeah?”

“How tall are you?” Aubrey asked, her expression unreadable.

Paige blinked, thrown off by the random question. “Six foot.”

Aubrey nodded. “You can shoot?”

Paige huffed a small laugh, still confused but playing along. “Yeah.”

Without another word, Aubrey simply nodded again and went right back to her conversation, as if she hadn’t just stopped the room to ask.

Paige frowned slightly, looking over at Azzi, who just shrugged.

Paige’s time with the team went like this for about another hour—mostly talking to Azzi, though every now and then, someone would chime in with a random question that Paige would answer. It wasn’t that she didn’t know how to talk to people. She just didn’t do well with new people, with people she didn’t know. Simply because she didn’t like small talk much. It was one of her pet peeves that had formed some time ago when her step mom would force her to talk through the pain in her ribs with pointless questions and comments.

After a few hours of chilling with the team it was time for Paige to head back to her hotel so she could go to the airport. She stretched slightly as she stood up, glancing at Azzi, who was already watching her.

“You heading out?” Azzi asked.

Paige nodded. “Yeah.”

“I’ll walk you out.”

Paige didn’t argue, just slipped her hands into her pockets as she followed Azzi toward the door bidding goodbye to everyone before they walked out.

The two of them stood outside waiting for Paige’s uber not saying much. Paige rocked back on her heels, hands in her pockets, glancing at Azzi, who was leaning against the railing, arms crossed.

Azzi glanced at Paige. “So.”

Paige smiled softly, tilting her head. “So.”

Azzi exhaled, watching her carefully. “When are you making your decision?”

“I have to visit a few more schools first,” she admitted. “But soon.”

Azzi hummed at this, nodding slightly. Before either of them could say anything else, the Uber pulled up. Paige stood there for a second, looking at Azzi, searching for something in her expression. Then, a small smile tugged at her lips.

“How do you wanna play this?” Paige asked, her voice quieter now.

Azzi shrugged, her face unreadable.

Paige smiled at that before stepping forward, pulling Azzi into a hug. It was brief but firm, lingering just long enough before they pulled away.

Azzi met her eyes. “Don’t be a stranger.”

Paige smirked. “You have my number Azzi.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Are you actually going to text back?”

Paige shrugged. “Guess we’ll have to see.”

Azzi scoffed, shaking her head. “You aren’t as mysterious anymore. So your little ominous comments don’t work.”

Paige laughed at that, reaching for the car door. “I’ll text you.”

Azzi crossed her arms, a small smile playing on her lips. “I’ll text back.”

Paige met her gaze one last time, her expression softer now. “I’ll see you soon, Azzi.”

With that, she slid into the Uber, shutting the door behind her. Azzi stood there, watching as the car pulled away, her arms still crossed, her smile lingering, before she walked back upstairs.

…

After that day, Paige and Azzi kept in touch—not constantly, but enough. Their conversations were never rushed, never forced. A text here and there, one of them sending something random. Azzi sending a meme, Paige sending a highlight clip, both of them sending song recommendations that neither of them ever admitted to actually listening to.

Their texts always stretched over days. It would start off as a constant back and forth, but then one of them would respond hours later, sometimes even the next day, but neither ever seemed to mind. Azzi would send something sarcastic, Paige would respond with something equally dry, and it would spiral into playful messages until one of them finally let it die out—only for another conversation to start days later in the same effortless way.

What surprised Azzi the most during this time was that Paige always answered her FaceTime calls. She’d roll her eyes and act inconvenienced, but she never ignored them. “I told you I don’t like FaceTime,” she’d say when she picked up, usually lying in bed or at a random gym. Azzi would just smirk, tilting her head. “Then why do you always answer?”

Paige never had a real answer for that. She’d just shake her head, fighting a small smile before changing the subject.

Through these scattered conversations, Azzi learned more about Paige. She found out that Paige was at a small Division II school in Minnesota, though she rarely talked about it unless Azzi pried, mumbling about how Azzi asked way too many questions. Azzi learned that Paige hadn’t played her freshman year because of the accident, and after tearing her ACL this past year, she still had two years of eligibility left. Though she planned to use just one—coaches seemed to think that was all she needed to prove that she could still perform on the big stage.

Azzi also learned little things. Like how Paige always listened to music when she couldn’t sleep, nothing too loud, just playing softly in the background so she could listen to the lyrics instead of all the random thoughts swirling in her head. She learned how Paige had a habit of spinning the ring on her finger when she was thinking or when she got a little nervous or uncomfortable. How she spaced off in the middle of conversations and came back to earth like nothing happened. How she only drank coffee if she was desperate, otherwise she stuck to water or the occasional shirley temple.

It was a slow process, getting to know her. Paige didn’t just offer things up freely, but Azzi didn’t mind the wait. The more Paige revealed, the more Azzi realized that, beneath all that confidence and “mystery,” she was someone who chose her words carefully. Someone who didn’t say things unless she meant them.

Paige learned about Azzi just as Azzi had learned about her.

It was almost effortless—Azzi carried most of their conversations, filling in the silences that Paige left behind. That was the first thing Paige realized: Azzi wasn’t necessarily talkative, but with her, she was. Because she knew Paige wouldn’t speak much unless she was eased into it first. If they were ever on FaceTime around Azzi’s team they were the one’s talking and yelling while Azzi usually just sat there offering a small comment here and there.

Paige learned that, despite being one of the healthiest people she had ever met, Azzi had an undeniable sweet tooth—so much so that if she could, she’d probably marry a sweet treat. Paige learned that Azzi loved to read, losing herself in books when she needed a break from the world. She learned that Azzi loved talking about the books she was reading when she was done, even when Paige had no idea what she was talking about most of the time.

She learned about Stewie, Azzi’s dog, and how just talking about him could make Azzi light up. Paige learned about the little things—the things that made Azzi smile, the things that made her laugh, the things that made her feel at home when she was away at school and missed her family.

And now, about a month or so later, they were about to see each other again.

Azzi hadn’t expected to see Paige. As far as she knew, Paige was still making her rounds, visiting schools, weighing her options. They had texted earlier in the day like usual—short, easy messages that stretched over time—but Paige hadn’t mentioned anything about being at the game.

The arena was loud, packed with energy as UConn went through their usual warmups. The rhythm of bouncing basketballs, sneakers squeaking against the hardwood, and the music blaring through the speakers filled the space. Azzi was locked in, focused on her silent routine, until a glance toward USC’s bench made her freeze for half a second and do a double take.

Paige was there. Sitting just behind their bench, in nearly the same spot she had been when she watched UConn play before.

Azzi’s eyebrows lifted slightly, her grip tightening around the ball in her hands as she tried to process the sight. Paige, of all people, at the USC game—against UConn, no less.

Paige, of course, had seen Azzi notice her. And, because she was Paige, she smirked, leaning back slightly in her seat when she caught Azzi’s eyes.

Azzi blinked, exhaling a short breath as she shook her head, trying to fight the smile tugging at her lips. This girl.

…

From the moment the ball tipped off Azzi spent the entire game battling against USC’s defense, which had clearly done its homework on the shooting guard. Every time she tried to move off the ball, two defenders shadowed her. Every screen she ran around, they fought through, or two people jumped at her. UConn’s offense, usually fluid and dynamic with the ball in her hands, felt a little stagnant without her usual rhythm.

Paige could see it—the way Azzi’s frustration built with every contested shot, every missed opportunity. She wasn’t playing badly by any means, but she wasn’t playing as freely as she usually did. From where Paige was sitting, she could see ways Azzi could create more space for herself. Small adjustments, little shifts in movement that could’ve made a difference. But all she could do was sit there and watch it unfold behind USC’s bench.

The game was tight all the way through, every possession feeling heavier as the clock wound down. But in the final minutes, USC managed to stay just a step ahead.

When the buzzer finally sounded, the scoreboard read 83-79 in USC’s favor.

The home crowd erupted in celebration while UConn’s players sighed, some shaking their heads, others already replaying the game in their minds. Azzi, standing near the baseline, exhaled sharply, hands on her hips as she looked up at the scoreboard.

From her seat behind USC’s bench, Paige simply watched it all unfold.

A few minutes after the game, once the immediate post-game chaos settled, Paige and Azzi finally made their way toward each other. Paige had stepped away from the crowd, having a few moments to herself while USC went to have their post-game talk. Azzi, fresh off the handshake line, was still coming down from the intensity of the game.

"You didn’t tell me you were coming," Azzi said as soon as they were close enough. The fans near them yelling to get Azzi’s attention.

Paige let out a soft laugh. "You always lead with something I don’t expect. Never a hello."

Azzi shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "I don’t have a lot of time," she admitted, glancing over her shoulder toward the tunnel, where her teammates were heading in. "But I wanted to see where you were staying."

"The Marriott, a few minutes from here," Paige answered easily.

Azzi hummed at this. "Hm. Us too."

Paige chuckled, tilting her head slightly. "Guess I’ll see you later, then."

Azzi was about to respond, but out of the corner of her eye, she saw the final straggler from her team disappear into the tunnel. She knew she couldn’t afford to linger any longer, especially after a loss. Exhaling softly, she glanced back at Paige.

"I’ll text you," Azzi said instead.

Paige gave her a small nod. Azzi held her gaze for just a second longer before turning and walking toward the locker room.

…

Later that night, Paige was lying in bed, scrolling aimlessly through her phone, when a soft knock echoed through her hotel room. She blinked at the door before pushing herself up, already knowing who it was but still peeking through the peephole out of habit.

A smirk tugged at her lips as she swung the door open, revealing Azzi standing on the other side in an oversized hoodie and pajama shorts. Paige’s gaze dropped to the shorts, taking in the tiny red hearts printed across them.

“Nice hearts,” Paige teased.

Azzi rolled her eyes, but a small smile played on her lips as she reached out and shoved Paige’s shoulder—though Paige barely moved.

Without another word, Azzi stepped inside, her expression expectant as she looked at Paige. Paige furrowed her brows slightly before realization dawned on her features. Without hesitation, she reached out, wrapping Azzi in a long, lingering hug.

Azzi let out a quiet sigh as Paige wrapped her arms around her, melting into the hug like it was exactly what she needed. Paige held her close, resting her chin on Azzi’s shoulder, feeling the tension still lingering in her body from the game.

"Long day?" Paige murmured.

Azzi huffed a soft laugh. "You could say that."

Paige smiled, pulling back just enough to look at her. "So, what? You came all the way up here just for a hug?"

Azzi raised an eyebrow. "Would that be weird?"

Paige shrugged. "Nah. I get it. I’m me."

Azzi rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. Instead, she wandered further into the room, glancing around before flopping down onto Paige’s bed like she’d done it a hundred times before. Paige smirked at this.

"You make yourself at home real quick, huh?"

Azzi glanced up at her. "Well, you did say you’d see me later."

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head before pushing off the wall and making her way toward the bed. She sat at the edge, glancing over at Azzi, who was already sprawled out against the pillows, arms tucked behind her head, looking completely at ease.

Azzi turned her head slightly, her gaze settling on Paige. “How’d I play?”

Paige shrugged before shifting to lay beside her, mirroring her position. “Pretty good.”

Azzi arched her brow. “Not great?”

Paige shook her head. “No, not great.”

Azzi sighed, tilting her head back against the pillows as she mumbled “I hate basketball sometimes.”

Paige turned her head slightly, studying her before adding, “Their defense was basically ‘anyone but Azzi Fudd’ so don’t think about it too much.”

Azzi let out a quiet groan, staring up at the ceiling. "Tell me about it," she muttered. "Felt like they had three people trailing me at all times."

Paige turned her head slightly, glancing at her. "They did," she confirmed. "But you were still getting good looks. You just weren't creating enough space."

Azzi gave her a side-eye. "Oh, so now you're my coach?"

Paige laughed. "I'm just saying, I saw a few ways you could’ve gotten open."

Azzi rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her hand. "Yeah? Like what?"

Paige mirrored her, facing Azzi. "Couple times, you could’ve used your off-ball movement better. They were biting hard on screens—if you slipped off quicker, you would've had more separation. I don’t know if you had anyone to make the pass but still. And when you did get the ball, you hesitated just a little too long. You let them recover."

Azzi stared at her for a moment, her competitive nature flaring just slightly. "You really sat there analyzing me the whole game, huh?"

Paige smirked. "What else was I supposed to do? Watch USC?"

Azzi scoffed. "Yeah, actually."

Paige chuckled, nudging Azzi’s arm with her elbow. "Seriously though, you played well. USC just had a good scouting report."

Azzi sighed, rolling onto her back again. "Yeah. Sucks, though."

"Would've helped if you had a more consistent shooter."

Azzi turned her head toward Paige, raising an eyebrow. "Ashlynn can shoot."

Paige shrugged. "She can, But if she doesn’t make her first few shots, she’s nonexistent the rest of the game."

Azzi hummed at this but didn’t argue, staring up at the ceiling in thought. After a while she tilted her head to look at Paige who was just staring at the ceiling now. Azzi propped her head up on her hand again as she said, “Enough about me. How was your visit?”

Paige shrugged, not offering anything more.

Azzi gave her a pointed look. "How many times do I have to tell you? Shrugging isn’t a proper form of communicating."

Paige chuckled, finally breaking her silence. "It was alright, I guess."

Azzi narrowed her eyes. "Wow. Raving review. So... USC’s out of the running?"

Paige nodded. "Yeah."

Azzi hummed, studying her. "That was quick."

Paige smiled slightly. "I know what I want."

Azzi tilted her head. "And USC wasn’t it?"

Paige shook her head. "Not even close."

Azzi’s lips curled slightly, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she just traced Paige’s arm with her fingers. "Guess that means you’re running out of options, huh?"

Paige glanced down at her arm where Azzi was touching before saying. "Guess so."

Azzi shifted slightly, resting her cheek against her palm as she eyed Paige. “How many do you have left?”

Paige knew what she was asking—how many visits, how many schools still in consideration. She exhaled softly. “Two.”

Azzi nodded, her fingers idly playing with the string of her hoodie. “Are you actually considering them?”

Paige turned her head, meeting Azzi’s gaze for a brief moment before answering. “Not really…I have to go, though.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

Paige laughed. “Because they’ll report all the other schools to the NCAA if I don’t.”

Azzi let out a laugh, shaking her head. “You really have schools breaking rules for these ‘unofficial’ visits?”

Paige just chuckled, shrugging like it wasn’t a big deal. “Guess I’m a hot commodity.”

Azzi laughed at this and the room settled into a quiet stillness, the only sound the faint hum of the hotel’s air conditioning. Paige’s eyes flickered over Azzi’s face, taking in the way the dim light softened her features, the way her lips parted slightly like she had something to say but was hesitating. Azzi, normally composed, seemed almost hesitant now, her fingers playing with the string of her hoodie as she held Paige’s gaze.

Finally, Azzi exhaled. “Can I kiss you?”

Paige smiled a little at the question and gave a small nod.

With the confirmation, Azzi closed the distance between them, her fingers brushing gently against Paige’s jaw before tilting her chin up and capturing her lips in a slow kiss. Paige exhaled steadily against Azzi, her hands finding their place on Azzi’s hips.

Not long after the kiss started Azzi tilted her head, deepening it, and Paige followed her lead, nipping at Azzi’s bottom lip just enough to make her sigh.

The sound sent a warmth through Paige’s chest, and before she could process it, Azzi shifted forward instinctively, settling more comfortably in Paige’s lap, her knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Paige’s waist.

Paige’s hands slid upward, fingertips grazing the skin just beneath Azzi’s hoodie, tracing patterns. After some time, Azzi pulled back slightly, her lips parting as she exhaled.

“We can’t,” she murmured, her voice breathy but firm.

Paige, still beneath her, let out a low chuckle, her thumbs rubbing soothing circles against Azzi’s waist. “I know.”

Azzi blinked, slightly thrown off by Paige’s lack of protest. “You know?”

Paige nodded, her blue eyes flickering with amusement as she tilted her head back against the pillows. “Yeah. You spent all day yesterday texting me about how bad your cramps were,” she reminded her. “And how none of this actually makes sense because men are the ones with Adam’s apples.”

Azzi huffed out a small laugh, shaking her head as she sat back a little, still straddling Paige. “Hm. I sure did say that.”

Paige hummed in acknowledgment, her fingers still lazily circling Azzi’s waist, her touch lingering. She was looking at Azzi in the way she seemed to do a lot lately—like she had her completely figured out.

Azzi shifted slightly, her gaze flickering between Paige’s eyes as she noticed the way Paige was just… staring at her. Not in a way that made her uncomfortable, but in a way that made her feel like Paige was seeing right through her—like she was memorizing her, like she was thinking about something she wouldn’t say out loud.

Azzi’s voice was quiet when she finally asked, “What do you think about when you look at me?”

Paige’s fingers were still circling lazily against Azzi’s waist, her touch warm. She blinked at the question, lips parting slightly before she simply answered, “Too much.”

Azzi hummed at this, tilting her head slightly. “Why?”

Paige sighed, her expression shifting into something a little more distant. She took a moment, as if deciding whether she wanted to answer, before finally saying, “Don’t wanna make the wrong decision.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away, but her silence and the look she was giving her encouraged Paige to continue.

Paige inhaled deeply before saying, “Life has a way of being unpredictable and a little cynical, regardless of your intentions. So I think about everything I’m doing way too much, hoping I can control the outcome… even though chances are I can’t.”

Azzi studied her, processing the weight behind Paige’s words. Without thinking, her fingers moved to the ring on Paige’s finger, gently spinning it the way she had seen Paige do. She hesitated before asking, “Is it because of the accident?”

Paige didn’t answer right away, but the way her jaw tightened—how her fingers briefly stilled against Azzi’s waist—was answer enough. After a second, she gave a small nod.

Azzi kept her touch light as she continued to toy with the ring, her voice even softer when she said, “You don’t talk about it much.”

Paige let out a quiet breath, eyes flickering away for a moment. “Not much to say.”

Azzi shook her head slightly. “I think there’s a lot to say. You just don’t want to.”

Paige chuckled under her breath, but there was no humor in it. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not bad,” Azzi murmured. “Just… something I’ve picked up on.”

Paige exhaled, staring past Azzi for a moment, her thoughts somewhere else. Then, with a small shake of her head, she finally admitted, “It’s just… easier. Not thinking about it, not talking about it.”

Azzi watched Paige carefully, noting the way her fingers twitched slightly against her waist. She let the silence settle between them for a moment before asking, “Have you ever talked to anyone about it?”

Paige’s lips pressed together briefly before she shook her head. “No.”

Azzi’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why not?”

Paige exhaled through her nose, then looked up at her with a soft smile. “You ask a lot of questions, pretty girl.”

Azzi huffed a soft laugh. “And you usually answer them, gorgeous.”

Paige let out a breath, her smile fading into something more thoughtful. She glanced away before finally saying, “No point. Every time I try, I just end up thinking about all the different decisions I could’ve made. Doesn’t do me any good.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away, just watching Paige as she absentmindedly traced circles against her skin. There was something raw in Paige’s admission, something unspoken lingering between them.

“You know there’s nothing you could’ve done. You can’t control the world Paige.”

Paige nodded, but she didn’t speak, her eyes fixed somewhere past Azzi’s shoulder. Azzi could tell she wasn’t fully convinced—just because she knew it didn’t mean it was easy to accept.

“I know,” Paige finally said, her voice quiet. “But there’s just a lot from that day that could’ve changed things.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly. “Like what?”

Paige hesitated. Azzi saw the way her lips parted like she was about to say something before she stopped herself, debating.

But then Paige’s gaze shifted, fully looking at her—the way Azzi was straddling her hips, the way she was still idly playing with the ring on her finger, the way her brown eyes were searching but so patient and warm.

Suddenly, Paige just started talking. “You know my little brother, Drew?”

Azzi nodded.

Paige stared past her for a second before continuing. “That day, he was bugging me all afternoon to go get ice cream. I mean, non-stop—every few minutes for some reason. But I was tired from the games that week, and I had a workout later that day, so I didn’t really want to leave the house before I had to. But I promised him we would go… just not right then.”

Azzi stayed silent, just listening as Paige’s voice took on a more distant quality.

Paige chuckled dryly. “When it was time for my workout, I couldn’t drive because I didn’t put gas in my car the night before, so we all went together—me, my dad, my stepmom, and Drew. Ironically we had never even done that before, that was the first time everyone was coming to one of my workouts. We left a little earlier than we needed to, and when Drew noticed he asked if we could stop for ice cream.” Paige let out a small, humorless huff, eyes still unfocused as she spoke. “My dad looked at me in the rearview mirror and said it was my workout so it was up to me. And I always hated saying no to Drew and I had said no so many times that day already, so I said of course.”

Azzi saw the moment Paige started slipping away, her expression flattening, her words turning mechanical, like she wasn’t even processing them as they left her mouth.

“So instead of going straight, we turned right,” Paige said, her voice distant, like she was narrating someone else’s life. “A few blocks later, one light before we were going to turn into the coldstone, there was this Pepsi truck. I guess he was coming off the highway too fast or something. He couldn’t brake in time, so he ran the light while we were in the intersection.”

She swallowed hard.

“The truck hit the side of the car my stepmom and I were on…They say your brain is supposed to block out things like that. Make it easier. But I remember everything. I just—” Her voice faded, like the words had dried up in her throat. Her eyes were glossy, unfocused, trapped in a memory she couldn’t shake. She blinked once, slowly, then murmured, “And yeah. That was that.”

Paige let out a shaky breath before continuing, her voice rough.

“And I hated the world for so long. Sometimes I still do honestly,” she admitted, a bitter edge creeping into her tone. “Because I—I did everything right. I prayed every night, I gave back, I was generous, selfless, I worked hard, I did everything they say you’re supposed to, and that still happened. But then I remember I can’t hate the world. Because we’re all still here and healthy. I still get to play the game I love. I’m still so blessed. So I can’t even give myself the grace to be upset about everything.”

Silence settled between them as Paige just stared into space.

Azzi glanced down at Paige’s hands, noticing how cold they had become. She squeezed them softly, rubbing her thumbs over the backs of Paige’s knuckles, trying to get the blood flowing again.

“Paige,” Azzi said gently, her voice barely above a whisper. She squeezed her hands again, firmer this time, tilting Paige's head slightly to meet her eyes. “Hey.”

Azzi watched as Paige slowly came back to herself, the distant haze in her eyes clearing as she blinked a few times. Her gaze refocused, landing on Azzi like she had just remembered she was there.

“Hm?” Paige murmured.

Azzi softened her hold on Paige’s hands, giving her the space to pull away if she wanted to—but she didn’t let go completely. She just held on. “What do you need?” Azzi asked gently.

Paige exhaled, her fingers flexing slightly in Azzi’s grasp. “I’m good,” she said, but there was no real conviction behind it.

Azzi didn’t argue, didn’t push. She just said, soft but firm, “Paige.”

Paige licked her lips, taking a slow breath. “Tell me something about you.”

Azzi studied her for a moment, then nodded, shifting slightly where she sat. She thought for a second before a small smile tugged at her lips.

“Okay,” she said, tilting her head. “During CoVid, my brothers and I got so bored one day that we decided to go out on the patio and I gave them haircuts.”

Paige’s brows lifted slightly, intrigued.

Azzi grinned. “And not just any regular haircuts. I was cutting shapes into their heads. Like, just completely ruining them. I had no idea what I was doing, but they let me do it anyway.”

Paige huffed a small laugh, and Azzi could see the lightness in her eyes start to return.

“I drew a basketball in one of their heads, even added my jersey number,” Azzi continued, laughing at the memory. “It was awful. Just—bad all around. But we were dying the whole time. Even my parents came out to watch.”

Paige chuckled, the sound quiet but genuine. “They actually let you do that?”

“Oh yeah,” Azzi nodded. “We were locked in the house for months; we needed entertainment. I think they regretted it as soon as they saw their reflections, but at that point, it was too late.”

Paige shook her head, smiling softly. “That’s ridiculous.”

Azzi shrugged. “Definitely. But I think it’s one of my favorite memories. Just us being stupid and not caring about anything else.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, then exhaled. “Sounds nice.”

Azzi gave her hands another squeeze. “It was.”

They stayed like that for a few beats, the weight in the room a little lighter now. Azzi watched Paige carefully, making sure she was really back, that she wasn’t slipping away again.

“You good?” Azzi asked quietly.

Paige nodded, her fingers brushing against Azzi’s where they were still intertwined. “Yeah,” she murmured.

Azzi studied her for a moment before speaking softly. “Thank you for telling me that.”

Paige didn’t say anything at first—just nodded again. Then, with a gentle tug on Azzi’s hoodie, she pulled her down, closing the space between them. Their lips met in a kiss that felt different from all the others—not rushed or hesitant. It was just them, existing in this moment, wrapped up in each other.

Azzi sighed into the kiss, her hands moving instinctively to cup Paige’s face, her thumbs brushing over her cheeks. Paige’s fingers curled around the fabric of Azzi’s hoodie, holding her close, like she needed this—like she needed her.

The kiss continued to slowly deepen, neither of them in a rush to pull away. It was a quiet kind of intimacy, one that didn’t need words.

Then—

A knock at the door.

Azzi broke the kiss, her head moving toward the sound as her breath came a little uneven. Paige groaned, her head dropping against the pillow.

Azzi exhaled a quiet laugh, still slightly dazed as she glanced down at Paige. “You expecting someone?”

Paige shook her head. “No.” She tapped Azzi’s leg, silently telling her to get up. With a small sigh, Azzi slid off Paige’s lap, settling back against the pillows as Paige stood and walked toward the door.

Azzi couldn’t see who it was from where she sat—the way the hotel room was laid out blocked her view—but she heard the confusion in Paige’s voice when she opened the door.

“Wassup?”

A second voice answered, a little sheepish. “I think I left my charger here earlier. And I know you’re leaving tomorrow, so I didn’t wanna be SOL.”

Paige chuckled. “Hold on, I’ll grab it.”

She stepped back into the room, her eyes scanning for a moment before she spotted a charger near the couch. Grabbing it, she walked back toward the door.

“Thanks,” the voice said.

“No problem,” Paige replied easily before shutting the door behind her.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching slightly. “I didn’t realize your hotel room doubled as lost and found.”

Paige laughed as she sat back on the bed. “Ha ha, very funny.”

Azzi tilted her head. “Who was that?”

“Just one of the girls from the USC team,” Paige said casually.

Azzi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at this, and Paige immediately caught on, shaking her head. “It’s not what you think.”

“I didn’t even say anything.”

Paige scoffed. “It was all over your face.” She shifted, propping herself up on her elbow as she continued, “A couple of them came over yesterday before the game and just chilled here with me because my flight’s early tomorrow.”

Azzi hummed at this, but Paige could tell her mind was still working.

“What?” Paige prompted, watching as Azzi hesitated for a moment before finally asking, “Have you slept with anyone since me?”

There wasn’t a single beat of hesitation before Paige answered, “No.”

Azzi didn’t say anything for a moment, her gaze lingering on Paige. Paige studied her in return, waiting, until the silence stretched a little too long.

Finally, Paige spoke again. “There’s no one else, Azzi.”

Azzi looked at her, eyebrows furrowing slightly as if processing the weight of the words. Then, softly, she responded, “I know. I’m just processing why the thought crossed my mind.”

Paige chuckled, leaning back on the bed with a casual smile. “I already told you why…You were way too interested for it to be just one night.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but there was a softness in her expression now. “You’re full of yourself,” she muttered. “I miss when you didn’t speak unless spoken to.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the bed with a smug smile. “Really?” she teased.

Azzi sighed dramatically, shaking her head. “No,” she said, her voice softening. “I don’t miss it, but it was... easier.”

Paige chuckled. “I’ll remember this when you’re begging me to say more than two words on FaceTime.”

Azzi smirked. “I’ll give you at least three. You probably say ‘I don’t know’ more than anyone I’ve ever met.”

Paige’s lips twitched as she crossed her arms over her chest. “You say ‘I don’t know’ just as much as I do. Don’t act like I’m the only one with the habit.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow. “I do not.”

Paige grinned. “You literally said ‘I don’t know’ like five times today before noon.”

Azzi rolled her eyes again, though it was clear she was trying not to laugh. “Okay, maybe once or twice,” she conceded, but then pointed at Paige, “But that’s because you’re always asking me impossible questions.”

Paige laughed fully. “Impossible questions? I ask things like, ‘How’s your day?’”

Azzi raised her hand in mock surrender. “Fine, I’m outnumbered.”

Paige smiled, her eyes warm with affection. “Yeah, you are.”

Azzi's phone rang from the nightstand next to the bed, interrupting their playful exchange. She glanced at the screen, letting it ring a few times.

“You gonna get that?” Paige asked with a smirk.

Azzi rolled her eyes but picked up her phone. “I was about to, if you give me a second.”

As Azzi answered, Caroline’s voice instantly filled the room, loud and clear. “Stop having sex with the recruit and come back to the room. CD’s having room checks soon.”

Azzi let out a laugh. “If I was having sex, I wouldn’t have answered the phone, babe.”

Caroline’s voice came back with a sigh. “Whatever. You’ve got like fifteen minutes.”

Azzi sighed, glancing at Paige as she responded, “Okay, bye,” before hanging up. She tossed the phone onto the nightstand, her expression now amused as she met Paige’s gaze.

Paige’s eyebrows were shot up in disbelief. “Sex with the recruit?”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, rolling her eyes. “Shut up.”

Paige stood up, slipping on her Ugg Tasman slippers. “Come on, let’s get you back,” she said, glancing over at Azzi.

“You don’t need to walk me to my room.”

Paige shrugged casually, her usual nonchalance apparent. “I don’t mind.”

Azzi pushed herself off the bed, and as she reached for her phone, Paige grabbed her phone and keycard. The two of them walked out of the room, moving silently down the hall.

The walk to the elevator wasn’t awkward—just quiet. Azzi was lost in her thoughts, her mind drifting to places she hadn’t quite sorted through yet regarding the game.

Once inside the elevator, Paige leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes. The hum of the elevator made the moment feel peaceful, a brief pause in their whirlwind of thoughts.

It was then that Azzi finally spoke, her voice soft but laced with concern. “Are you okay?”

Paige opened her eyes slowly, tilting her head slightly toward Azzi. She nodded, the motion small.

Azzi watched Paige as they stepped out of the elevator and began walking down the hall toward her room. She raised an eyebrow, noting the quiet shift in Paige’s energy. “Why’d you get all quiet on me?”

Paige glanced at her, a faint smirk pulling at her lips. “I didn’t. I was just letting you think.”

Azzi chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Right.”

When they reached Azzi’s door, she leaned casually against the wall, her arms crossed. Paige stood in front of her, looking down the hallway for a moment before meeting Azzi’s gaze.

Azzi hesitated, then said, “I probably won’t see you for a while.”

Paige nodded, not offering much else. Azzi studied her, noticing the subtle shift in her posture. “You did get quiet on me. What’s up?”

Paige shook her head. “Nothing. I’m good.”

Azzi gave her a pointed look, not buying it. “You sure about that?”

Paige sighed, looking down at her shoes for a moment before meeting Azzi’s eyes. “I’m just gonna miss you.”

Azzi softened at the admission. “Keep going,” she said quietly, sensing there was more to it.

Paige hesitated, biting the inside of her cheek. “It’s just—my thoughts are a lot quieter when you’re around, for some reason. It’s just a little jarring going back to that after you leave.”

Azzi’s expression softened as she let out a small pout, tugging on Paige’s shirt, pulling her closer. “You know, you make it hard to leave when you say things like that.”

Paige chuckled softly, a sheepish smile on her lips. “My bad.”

Azzi couldn’t help but smile at the unnecessary apology, her heart softening a little. “Come here.”

Paige hesitated for only a moment before stepping closer, the space between them closing. As soon as she was near enough, Azzi reached out, pulling Paige in by the waist to connect their lips.

The moment their lips met, Azzi felt Paige’s tense jaw, the tension still lingering in her. Azzi gently traced her finger along the curve of Paige’s jaw, coaxing her to relax. Paige let out a soft sigh, her body responding as she melted into the kiss, her hands coming to wrap around Azzi pulling her closer.

They stayed like that for several minutes, the world outside disappearing as they simply focused on the feeling of being with each other in the hallway. When Paige finally pulled back, her breath uneven, she murmured quietly, “Thank you.”

Azzi chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind Paige’s ear. “You don’t need to thank me for that.”

The two of them lingered close, their foreheads nearly touching as they just savored the moment in silence, comfortable in each other’s presence. Eventually, Paige stepped back, putting her hands in her pockets, though Azzi noticed how her fingers absently toyed with the ring on her finger.

Azzi laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re cute sometimes.”

Paige glanced at her with a playful smirk. “Thanks.”

Azzi turned toward the door, her hand moving to unlock it. "I’ll call you tomorrow," she said, her voice carrying the same familiarity that made everything feel a little more comfortable.

Paige nodded, her gaze softening. "Okay," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The brief silence between them lingered as Azzi slowly pushed the door open, stepping inside. She paused for a moment, eyes meeting Paige's one last time, before closing it behind her. Paige remained where she stood, her expression lingering. The soft click of the door locking was the only sound that followed, leaving Paige standing in the hallway for just a moment longer before she turned to walk away.

[themuseinthewoods]

Respectfully, I think it's very important to discuss these things.

Not in this format. I never have liked things presented this way. Especially on here, but exposure is important. If it means that the younger crowd is thinking about it and aware that it's an issue.

And if they aren't thinking now then they might blindly follow MAGA and trump in the future when they are older.

Everything is controversial right now. Our very existence as members of the LGBTQIA+ community is controversial. Especially in the USA where I am.

And you didn't have to view this post. You can scroll past, leave it for people who want that on their feed.

Yes, I'm a minor. Barely so, but I still am. But a lot of my online friends are young adults, or older who have had their accounts since they were 13 or something and they aren't going to delete their account because many of them still enjoy fanfic or interacting with fellow nerds.

People come on here for vastly different reasons and maybe peoples reasons mean they want to see this sort of thing. Once more, you pick your Tumblr experience. We all do.

I wish that I could hug whoever made this.

[leonardalphachurch]

Burnie’s AMA podcast about Rooster Teeth’s revival is now available to the public and so I’m going to summarizing the relevant questions that were answered here.

Why?

“It’s because we could […] If we don’t do it who will?” Throughout the episode, Burnie also mentioned: not wanting RT to become lost media; wanting to create opportunities for himself/past employees of the company; wanting to work with old properties again; being able to collaborate with new talent; and the Rooster Teeth brand being good marketing. “One of the main motivators for this was preserving the media, and I’m happy to say, it is preserved.”

Also spoken about over multiple questions, Burnie says that Warner Brothers might have been planning to sell off the whole company, including employees etc., and he did not want (/couldn’t afford) to buy it then. It was only after the shutdown, after it became clear the WB was selling off individual shows, that Burnie started trying to buy things. I mention this specifically because I’ve seen a lot of people talk as if the company itself is coming back; it is not. What Burnie owns right now is the brand and IP rights to a lot of the properties. The actual “company” of Rooster Teeth is actually Burnie’s production company “Box Canyon Productions” and right now only has two employees.

What properties does Rooster Teeth still own?

“It’s a very, very long list.” Burnie says they have the rights over 50 shows, some specifically named ones being The RT Podcast, Red vs Blue, and The Know. Most of the shows that were hosted on the Rooster Teeth YouTube channel were a part of the acquisition. Nothing from Achievement Hunter, Funhaus, or RWBY are owned by RT anymore. Heavy emphasis was put on AH no longer being under RT’s brand anymore.

Are the scope of these new projects going to be more in line with smaller content like the RT Shorts, or is the hope to try and focus on larger productions like Day 5, The Schedule, or Lazer Team?

“The sweet spot for scale is going all the way back to the early episodes of Red vs Blue.” The focus is going to be on “compelling writing and great characters,” and making projects with smaller productions. Throughout the episode they reiterated that their main focus is going to be on individual projects and shows.

Does this mean there are hopes of getting a complete boxset of RvB?

“I also would love a complete boxset of Red vs Blue.” Burnie says he wants to do this, but doing physical media in 2025 is complicated and a financial risk, so they’re going to have to figure out how it would be done. He mentions possibly doing a preorder for it.

What happens if this just fails again?

“It’s not bulletproof, but I don’t know what it would take for us to have to shutter this thing at this point.” Burnie says that they’re already profitable, that they maintain themselves, and that unless they do something that would put them in tremendous amounts of debt, as long as YouTube still remains a platform that lets them host videos, he’s not worried about the company shutting down.

Could this lead to some of the old RT merch being available again?

“Yeah, it would have to be within the brands we’re talking about.” They talk about there being a lot of old merch, so figuring out how to provide the specific pieces that people want will be a challenge. Burnie how his personal philosophies on making merchandise in a way that does not produce “junk” may also make selling merch more difficult. Ashley says it is going to be a “slow start.”

More questions were answered and things discussed on the episode but this is what I found to be important to share here.

The TL;DR of RvB news: They do own the Red vs Blue IP. There was no confirmation or denial of any future continuations of the show, but we will very likely be getting a boxset and some old merch returning.

[bonus-links]

Ruins pt 16 please 🥺

OUGH YEAH THIS ONE

I wanted to give Loft a chance to explain a little bit of his ideology around what being the capital H Hero means to him. Despite all his misgivings about having his life orchestrated for this purpose, he 100% would do it all again, no questions asked. He firmly believes at this point that being the Hero and wielding the master sword is still a blessing. I also think from his perspective, if it really is true that Demise is going to curse this land forever, it's imperative that there's always a Hero willing to take up the mantle. Slate doesn't want the title, but to Loft he's already doing the action, and that makes him worthy of the sword. They're, like. fundamentally disagreeing on what being "the Hero" even means.

Also, having Fi as a companion was really important to him. I think it brought him some comfort to think that future heroes would have that too. To find out that they didn't, and that one even 'rejected' her entirely really upsets him.

also, if you don't actually need the sword to defeat the great evil, the whole thing kind of falls apart, right? Remember, nearly Loft's ENTIRE journey revolved around forging the sword for this exact purpose. What did he do all that for, if you don't need it in the end?

as a sidenote, slate definitely has more than '6 hearts' worth of health lol, not that I'm taking that literally. this was just kind of visual representation of the sword sapping his strength. I think it's interesting that while this isn't the only game that locks you out of pulling the sword until you're strong enough, it is to my knowledge the only game that hurts you for trying if you're not.

Slate's first champion sighting! Whether or not Champion is trying to stop him here or finally letting the sword go is up for interpretation, but if you ask me it's kind of both. Also, for the record, only Slate saw him.

bro is fucking flabbergasted. he 100% did not expect to actually pull the sword. world view altered. Slate genuinely did try multiple times, before ultimately resorting to the nuclear option of facing Ganon without it. He went into the fight with the expectation that he would probably fail and die. To pull it now, after everything is said and done is,,,,frustrating to him. To severely understate it.

the koroks all cheering with loft 😭

i think this is my favorite slate I have ever drawn.

I think Loft had definitely hoped for a little bit more of a reunion with Fi here. This chime is the only indication she's there, and even then he's not sure.

[myloveer0]

My lovely darling

Girlfriend Ambessa Medarda X Fem!reader

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Summary: You were just trying to survive your family reunion when Ambessa Medarda—your girlfriend—showed up unannounced. Now, you have no choice but to introduce her to your entire clan. What’s got you nervous isn’t just introducing any partner—it’s the fact that you’re dating a woman who also happens to be twice your age.

💋 Enough with the smut we need sweet girlfriend Ambessa💋

All of the Ambessa's fic are mostly smut. Now i want write different this time ;)

Part I

The night of the gathering was full of noise, the endless chatter, catching up with your cousins which you hadn’t seen in ages, and men cheering at the current football game. It was so noisy and chaotic which was stressing you out.

But still, there was something comforting about seeing those familiar faces. Your aunties laughing out loud echoing from the kitchen, your uncle's bad jokes that somehow got worse every year, the kids running around and toddler crying the brain out.

Family gatherings were never your thing. Too many questions, too much noise, and way too many relatives. You just don't have a choice but to obey your mother since it only happens once a year. Everyone minding their own business. It was almost funny, though, how everyone acted like nothing ever happened. Just last year, there was that massive fight over your Grandpa’s inheritance and the land rights. You thought your family would never be the same again.

But here we were, gathered like old times—those heated arguments maybe forgotten. This is what families like. Everyone was busy bragging about their new cars, job promotions, or perfectly curated family vacations.

You were doing a decent job of blending into the background, sipping your martini and pretending to care as your aunt went on about her new Victoria’s Secret bag that definitely looked fake.

It was fake, but you weren’t rude enough to point it out. You just kept nodding, trying your best to look impressed.

“So, do you have a boyfriend yet?” Your auntie suddenly asked. Wine glass in hand, eyes sparkling with nosy curiosity. “Anyone special in your life?”

But of course, it wouldn't be a family gathering without that question.

You forced a polite smile, which lead to an awkward laugh the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Your auntie's release a collective gasp, followed by the inevitable assumption. You wanna roll your eyes.

Not surprised… are they asking you because you’re the only adult in the family who still hasn’t brought a boyfriend this year? Just like every other year. Meanwhile, your cousins are busy introducing their partners to the family—even the one who’s still in high school. And there you are… all alone.

“You know, Y/n, your cousin Emily is already married and has a two-year-old son. She’s doing so well! You really should think about settling down, sweetheart. You’re not getting any younger, and it’s harder to have kids when you’re older.”

Ah, yes. Emily—the family’s golden child. Same age as you, but somehow light-years ahead in the game of life, according to everyone else. Married, a kid, probably a dog too, for good measure. It’s like she checked off every box on the ‘Perfect Life’ checklist, and here you are alone while everyone assuming you where still trying to find a pen.

You'd force a smile, nod along, and pretend like it didn’t bother you. But inside? You was screaming. If only they knew.

You were doing your best to avoid another round of those questions when your cousin tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n” he whispered, glancing around while a plate food in his hand. “Someone’s looking for you outside.”

You blinked. “Who?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some lady. But, uh… she looks like someone important. She was kinda scary too..”

That made you pause. Someone important? You racked your brain, trying to think of who would show up here, of all places. But with no other choice, you set your martini down and asked to leave. As you made your way to the front door, a strange feeling settled in your chest.

And then you stepped outside the gate.

You froze.

There, standing by her sleek black car, was her.

Ambessa Medarda.

Your girlfriend.

She wore a sharp red and black suit, tailored to perfection, exuding power with every inch of her posture. The soft evening light glinted off her gold earrings, and her confident stance made it impossible to look anywhere else. Your heart did this weird little lurch, and your chest tightened with a mix of excitement and full-blown panic.

Because what the hell was she doing here?

Behind her—not far away—was another black car, more like an convoy. And there you saw Ricktus, Ambessa’s head security. He glanced in your direction, giving a slight bow when your eyes met. You returned a small smile before starting to walk toward Ambessa.

You barely had time to process before Ambessa large build crossed the distance between you, her hand sliding behind your neck as she pulled you in for a kiss—right there, in the open, in front of your parents house. Your brain screamed at you to stop her, to do something, but your body? Yeah, it had other plans. You melted into the kiss, your nerves buzzing under your skin, and when she finally pulled back, you were left breathless, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Ambessa,”You whispered, glancing nervously over your shoulder to make sure no one had seen. Thank goodness.. you didn't have a front yard party. “What… what are you doing here?”

Ambessa smiled, that infuriatingly calm, self-assured smile that always made you weak in the knees. “I missed you. little one ”

You blinked. “It’s been barely two weeks.”

“Too long,” Ambessa said without missing a beat, seriously? How can she be so clingy and possesive at the same time. Which was kinda cute to be honest. “So, I came to see you. little one. Why? You don’t look happy. I was hoping you’d jump at me out of pure rejoice.”

You swallowed hard, heart thudding in your chest. You would have jumped at her—hell, you would’ve run into her arms if she weren’t standing right in front of your parents’ house, of all places. The timing couldn’t have been worse. But God, seeing her again stirred something deep inside you. Yes, it been just two weeks but it felt like forever.

“I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you just stared at her, taking in the way she stood there like she owned the whole damn world, that familiar smirk playing on her lips, the glint of mischief in her eyes. You missed her. More than you’d let yourself admit.

Ambessa raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, her presence overwhelming as always. “What’s the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue?” she teased, her voice a low, velvety whisper that made your skin prickle. She glanced at the house behind you, then back at your face, reading you like an open book. “Ah… I see.” Her grin widened. “Didn’t realize you’d be home home.”

You shot her a look, trying to keep your cool, but it was impossible with her standing so close, with that look in her eyes.

“I missed you,” you finally blurted out, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Ambessa’s smirk softened, just a hint, and for a fleeting second, something warmer flickered in her gaze. But it was gone just as quickly as it came, replaced by that same cocky confidence.

“I know,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I always know.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest, but before you could even process it, she stepped closer, her hand brushing your arm, her touch sending a jolt through your entire body.

“So,” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, “Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to stand out here all day while your parents wonder who the hell their daughter’s been dreaming about?”

You blinked. Your eyes slowly widened as your stomach flipped. Reality snapped back into focus. This was bad.Very bad. How can you two flirting in this situation.

“Bess, you can’t just… show up like this,” you hissed, lowering your voice. “This isn’t the right time.”

This wasn’t at all how you pictured the family reunion going. They can't meet Ambessa. Not now.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “Why not?”

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “Because my parents don’t even know I have a lover. They’ve known me as single for the past five years. Let alone a woman who’s…”

Ambessa’s gaze locked onto yours, sharp and unwaverin like daring you “Continue your words, little one.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks warming as you dropped your eyes to the ground. You didn’t want to offend her.

“W-who’s… well, twice my age.”

Ambessa didn’t flinch. Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face. Like she knew it was coming along. The gap—had always been the issue people latched onto. You told yourself you didn’t care what they thought. But sometimes… sometimes it stung.

But not Ambessa.

She just tilted her head, eyes sharp and unwavering, that usual confidence. “Then are you embarrassed?”

Your eyes widened, and you snapped your gaze up to meet hers, a frown pulling at your lips. Is that what she think of you? “Of course not! Don’t even think about it that way, Bess. You’re—” Your voice began to cracked, the emotion bubbling up before you could stop it. You were having a hard time sinking all of this. It was too sudden.

“You’re one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me. I’m proud to be yours. Every time i'm with you i feel so whole and I'm not letting you go cause your mine. I’d stand on the highest rooftop and shout it to the whole damn world if I had to. I’d tell everyone you’re my girlfriend, that you mean everything to me—”

You didn’t even realize the tears had started falling until Ambessa’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping them away with surprising gentleness. That small gesture broke something in you—the floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

You hated when she thought like that. Like she wasn’t important to you. Like you didn’t value your relationship just because of that damn age gap everyone kept pointing out.

You didn’t want her to ever feel that way.

Ambessa didn’t say a word. She just pulled you into her arms, strong and steady, like nothing in the world could touch you when you were with her. Being wrapped in her embrace was your safe haven.

Her hand cradled the back of your head, and you felt her breath warm against your temple “Shh… Forgive me.. Let them talk. Let them think whatever the hell they want. You’re mine. And that’s all that matters.”

“I just…” you gasped between sobs, clinging to her suit. God! You just ruined her expensive suit. “I don’t care what they say, but it—it gets to me sometimes. Like we’re wrong. But we’re not. We’re not, right?”

Ambessa pulled back just enough to cup your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes were fierce, unwavering, like they always were, but there was something softer beneath the surface now—a tenderness she rarely showed.

“We are never wrong,” she said, her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. “Let them talk. Let them think whatever the hell they want. They don’t know us. They don’t know you.” She leaned in, her forehead resting gently against yours, her breath warm and steady. “And I don’t give a damn about anything but this—you and me. That’s all that matters.”

Her words wrapped around you, and for the first time, you felt the tension ease from your chest. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly, you buried your face against her chest, clutching her like she was the only solid thing in the world.

“I don’t care what they say,” you whispered through the tears. “I just… I love you so much, Bess.” voice raw but sure. “I love you so much.”

A rare, genuine smile tugged at Ambessa's lips—one of those smiles she only ever gave you. She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I know you do,” she murmured, her thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “And I love you more than all their words combined. They can’t touch what we have. I wouldn't let them. They have to get to me first”

A small smile tugged at your lips. You slowly wiped your tears before gently pulling away from her embrace.

“You know no one can get past you,” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up into her eyes.

Who would even dare to challenge a figure like her—unless they had a death wish or wanted to live through hell itself.

A cocky smile graced Ambessa’s lips. “Precisely, little one.”

“I’m sorry for being so emotional,” you whispered, your voice still shaky. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed… It’s just—they’re so important to me. My family—they’re not exactly…” you trailed off, searching for the right word. Ready? Accepting? Prepared for the force of nature that is you? None of it felt right.

''i know.. that's why it’s time they found out.”

You stared at her. “Bess…i know but they’ll flip out. They’re not exactly… open-minded about this kind of thing. ”

Her gaze softened just a fraction, but there was still steel underneath. “I’m not here to hide. And neither are you.”

You ran a hand through your hair, heart pounding like it was trying to break free from your chest. “ My parents are a little homophobic. They’ll freak out.”

Ambessa stepped closer, her voice low but firm. “Then let them.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, you knew Ambessa wasn’t going to back down. She never did. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you didn’t want her to.

But that didn’t make this any less terrifying.

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, her touch surprisingly gentle. “I’m not leaving,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

You blinked at her, trying to gauge if she was really serious. “Bess… it’s just a family thing. You’d be bored.” one last convencing.

She raised an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “ You look so adorable with your puppy eyes. But it will not work this time. I think it’s time I met your family.''

You let out a shaky breath, your nerves coiling tighter with every second. Is there anything in this world this woman was afraid off? But as you looked into her eyes—steady, unwavering, hers—you knew there was no talking her out of this.

God help. This was happening.

You knew a moment like this would come. You just didn’t expect it to be today.

Ambessa’s sudden appearance—like she’d just pop out of thin air—sent your heart into overdrive. She always had a knack for catching you off guard, but this? This felt different. You weren’t prepared. You hadn’t braced yourself for the surge of tension crackling in the air between you.

And the worst part? The way she looked.

Standing there like she owned the damn place, dressed to perfection, like every single detail had been planned to the last thread. It made you wonder—had she planned this? You knew Ambessa had been eager to meet your parents. You did. But you always found a way to shift the topic..

Is that why she showed up today? But God—the way that outfit hugged her frame, you couldn’t help but ogle. It was distracting she look so smoking hot and gorgeous. And the subtle gleam in her eye? It told you she was fully aware of the effect she had on you.

Your palms felt clammy, your pulse thrumming in your ears. But as your eyes flicked down to your own outfit, a small wave of relief washed over you. Thank God you’d put some effort into how you looked today. If you’d been caught in something sloppy, standing next to her, you would’ve crumbled right there on the spot.

But still… even dressed your best, Ambessa had a way of making everyone else fade into the background. And you couldn’t help but wonder—how the hell were you supposed to keep your cool standing beside her?

“A-alright,” you whispered, your voice barely steady. “Let’s do this.”

[wholoveseggs]

heyyyyy girllll, ik that you already wrote a series about a professor and student, but could you pleaseeeee make a one shot with a virgin reader🥹🥹🥹

Angel

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!vampire!Reader} Newly turned and overwhelmed, one hunger refuses to be ignored. You need guidance, and who better to teach you than Elijah Mikaelson?

♡♡ You didn't specify what kind of teacher.... so I took some creative libertiessss (DON'T BANG YOUR TEACHERS, OKAY?? NOT A WISE THING TO DO(EXCEPT IF THEY ARE A MIKAELSON))~ ♡♡

5k words {whoops} - Warnings: smuutttt, vampire!reader, virgin!reader, first time, a brief Hayley cameo, blood drinking, riding, reader knows what she wants, Elijah talking you through it, teaching, oral sex (f!receiving), feeding during sex, possessive but tender Elijah && a pet name...

"So, you're just going to waltz in and ask him?" Hayley asked, shocked at how blunt you were being.

"Well, yeah," you replied nonchalantly. "How else am I supposed to do it?"

"I don't know," she said, "maybe try being more subtle?"

Hayley looked at you like you'd lost your mind, but you just shrugged, unbothered. The constant hum of your heightened emotions had been driving you insane for days. Hunger, anger, lust. Mostly lust. And no matter how much you tried to control it, you couldn’t shake the gnawing, primal need clawing at you from the inside out.

"Subtlety is overrated," you said, crossing your arms. "I don’t think Elijah would appreciate me batting my lashes and giggling like a schoolgirl. He values directness."

"Yeah, but there's direct, and then there's direct," Hayley shot back, looking equally horrified and intrigued. "I mean, do you even know if he's into you?"

You paused, considering. Elijah was your mentor; your teacher when it came to all things vampire. He was always so composed, so controlled, but there was something in the way he looked at you. He was always assessing, always holding himself back. You'd caught him staring once or twice when he thought you weren’t looking. And there was that one time he murmured something in that low, velvety voice of his about lust being a difficult thing for new vampires to control…

"I think he is," you said simply.

"Okay, but what if he says no?" Hayley pressed.

You smirked, enjoying her mild jealousy. "Then I’ll go take an ice bath and reevaluate my choices."

Hayley groaned, rubbing her temples. "This is the most unhinged plan I’ve ever heard. And I've lived in this house with Klaus."

"Wish me luck," you said with a wink before striding down the hall toward Elijah’s study.

Your hands clenched at your sides as you stopped outside his door, suddenly hyper aware of how fast your heart was racing. Vampire senses made everything feel more. More intense, more overwhelming. But there was no turning back now. You wanted this. No. You needed this.

Taking a breath, you knocked once before pushing the door open.

Elijah sat at his desk, a glass of bourbon in one hand, an old book in the other. He barely glanced up as he said, “I take it this is a social visit?”

You stepped inside, shutting the door behind you. “No, it’s not... well... actually...”

Finally, his dark eyes lifted to meet yours, curiosity flickering across his face. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You exhaled sharply and walked toward him, each step deliberate. "I want you to teach me something new... Something important."

His brow arched. "What is it that you think you're lacking in your education?"

You stopped in front of his desk, trying not to focus on the way his shirt clung to his toned chest. "I don't need any more history lessons, or lectures on self-control. I know all of that."

"Oh really? You've been a vampire for less than a month, and already you know everything I could possibly teach you?" he asked, an amused smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Not everything," you said, leaning forward to brace yourself on his desk. "I still have lots to learn and there's one lesson I'm hoping you can teach me, and I'd like you to start right now."

His eyes narrowed, darting to your lips for a brief moment before snapping back to yours. "And what, pray tell, might that be?"

You swallowed, nerves clashing with the hunger and lust burning inside you. Then, with as much confidence as you could muster, you blurted it out.

"I want you to teach me how to have sex."

For the first time since you had met him, Elijah Mikaelson actually looked stunned. The glass in his hand halted halfway to his lips, eyes widening fractionally before his expression resumed its usual cool facade. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I beg your pardon?"

You bit your lip, cheeks flushing as you replayed the words in your head, suddenly embarrassed. But no, you had decided, you would be direct.

"Before I was turned... I, uh, I didn't get a chance to, you know, lose my virginity. So, I don't know what I'm doing... And I'm worried if I just pick up a random guy, I might kill him..." You spoke quickly, already regretting opening your mouth. What was wrong with you?

"Are you propositioning me, my dear?"

Something like warm amusement flickered in his eyes, and you relaxed a little, straightening. You expected pity, the way Hayley had looked at you. Judgment. Anything but the glint in Elijah's eyes as they slowly raked down your body, gaze sharpening with interest as it darkened.

A giddy flutter rose in your chest, and you licked your lips.

"Yes."

Silence fell over the room as Elijah set his drink down and stood, walking slowly toward you, his eyes never leaving yours. When he finally stopped, his chest was nearly brushing yours, the proximity making your head spin.

"Tell me, why have you chosen me for this particular lesson?" he murmured, fingers reaching up to trace the line of your jaw.

A jolt of heat ran through you, and you tried to remember how to speak. "Well, you're, uh, a noble gentleman... I trust you."

He chuckled. "I try my best. But are you sure that's the only reason?"

"Um..." You trailed off, his fingers slipping under your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Be honest, angel,"

"Because..." you said, a blush creeping across your cheeks. Angel? He just called you angel.

"Because... I think about you, all the time," you admitted. "Ever since I became a vampire. It's like every feeling is dialed up to eleven. Except my desire. It's a thousand times worse than that, and I can't make it stop. It's torture. And I know it's inappropriate, but..."

"It's not," Elijah interjected, his fingers sliding down the length of your throat. "We can't help what we want, can we?"

You shook your head.

"What is it that you want, my little vampire?"

You swallowed, your eyes flickering to his lips. "I want to kiss you."

His lips curved into a smirk, and then his mouth was on yours, firm but gentle. His lips moved slowly, expertly, and your entire body flooded with warmth, your legs suddenly unsteady. He felt so good. Smelled so good.

Your arms went around his neck, pulling him closer. You had kissed boys before, but it was nothing like this. This was an out-of-body experience, like the whole world was melting away and there was only the two of you.

He moved away far too soon, and a small sound of protest left your lips.

"So eager," he said, tipping your chin up to look at him. "Is that all you want? A kiss?"

You shook your head, a small, embarrassed laugh escaping. "No."

He smiled, his hands moving down your waist to your hips, gripping lightly, pulling you flush against him. "Our bodies have an enhanced awareness of what they want, what they need." He paused, pressing a kiss to the column of your throat, then, so quietly it was almost inaudible,  "Humans have sex drives, but ours..."

"Are stronger," you finished in a raspy voice. "More Intense."

Elijah hummed. "Very."

"So, you'll teach me then?"

He chuckled softly, lifting his head to capture your lips in another slow, deep kiss. "Teaching isn't the word I would use,"

A blush spread from your chest to your cheeks. You nodded, wanting more than anything for him to tumble you into bed and show you all the things his thousand years had taught him. He was patient, though, and the way he was kissing you now was driving you mad.

He lifted you effortlessly, and you let out a soft gasp. Before you could blink, you were in his bedroom, him pressing your back into the mattress, his hands everywhere. His lips trailed down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to taste the soft skin.Your hands curling into his chest, nails digging through the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't rip my shirt," he murmured against your neck, and you giggled.

"Sorry,"

"You will be," he said, pulling back to give you a dark smile.

A thrill of anticipation ran through you, and you pushed him onto his back, climbing onto his lap, the heat between your legs throbbing with need. Your lips crashed together again, more frantic this time, more desperate. Teeth clashed, biting, nibbling, sucking. All the while, a heady ache grew between your thighs, and when he cupped your ass, pulling your hips flush against his, you could feel his own primal need straining against his trousers.

You moaned into his mouth, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, needing more. "Please, Elijah," you murmured, sighing at the soft kisses he began to trail along your throat. "I need you."

"Patience, angel,"

With a frustrated groan, you slumped against him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His scent surrounded you. Aftershave, musk, something distinctly masculine and earthy. You closed your eyes, savoring the moment. Then you heard it, his blood, pumping steadily beneath his skin, calling to you. You wanted to sink your fangs into him, taste his hot blood coursing over your tongue.

You felt your vampire nature take over, veins protruding beneath your eyes, fangs extending. Instinct urged you forward, pressing soft kisses to his neck before nuzzling his warm skin, hunger gnawing inside your bones.

He chuckled at the gentle, kitten-like kisses you pressed to his neck, your fangs scratching his skin. He pulled your head away, urging your eyes to meet his as a glimmer of amusement danced in his. "So bloodthirsty,"

"C'mon, please." you whined, leaning in and kissing him deeply, trying to press your core against his bulge. You grunted, bucking your hips, starting a rhythm. Fuck he smelled so good, he felt so good, every fiber of your being yearning for his touch.

Your fangs brushed against his lower lip, drawing blood. He hissed, kissing you harder. His fingers tightened against the back of your head as he angled your face to give himself more access. You mewled as your hands clung to his chest, feeling his cock stiff against your stomach was doing terrible things to you.

"Look at me."

You obeyed instantly, his compulsion bringing you to a screeching halt. You whimpered, panting and needy. As his bloody lip healed, a single drop trickled down his chin, and you shivered, licking your lips as you followed the droplet's path with your eyes.

"Relax," he cooed, smirking as he wiped it away. "Don't you worry. I'm going to give you exactly what you want. But," he added in a darker tone, "only when I say."

Swallowing hard, you nodded, bracing your hands against his shoulders. "Okay,"

"Good girl,"

A rush of arousal shot through you at the praise, and a needy whine escaped your lips.

He smirked. "Oh, you like that? Being told what a good girl you are?"

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and his smirk widened. 

"Take your clothes off for me," he said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You quickly scrambled off his lap, flushed with heat as you stripped, pulling your dress over your head, watching Elijah watch you. His eyes tracked your every move, drinking you in as your bra came off. Then, with your shaky fingers, you hooked your thumbs under your panties, slowly peeling them down your thighs. Finally, you stood in front of him, naked, exposed, trembling, heart pounding in your ears.

"My, you're even lovelier than I'd imagined,"

You ached to feel him, craving more, more, more. A spark flashed in his gaze. You wanted him. Everything about this felt right. Every part of him wanted you too. His restraint was nothing but a mask, all for your benefit. You knew that once he lost his control, he would not be the patient and kind teacher you knew so well. Underneath that carefully crafted image was a beast, a creature of immense power, a force to be reckoned with.

"What's wrong, my dear?"

His voice pulled you from your thoughts, your eyes flitting up to his. A faint smirk played on his lips as his hand slid to your hip, dragging you closer. "Can't remember how to speak?"

You shook your head, unable to form a coherent thought.

"That's alright," he said, kissing his way down the side of your neck. “tell me if it gets too overwhelming,”

You nodded, inhaling sharply as your bare skin brushed his, your hands flat against his broad chest. His lips found yours again, deepening the kiss as his tongue parted your lips. Something was happening to you, this unfamiliar feeling. You could tell something big was building inside, a need, and Elijah was unravelling it, unraveling you.

He chuckled against your lips as he cupped your face, slowly pulling back just enough to gaze at you with those deep, brown eyes of his. He took your hand and sat you down at the edge of the bed.

"Don't be shy," he whispered. "It's just me."

You gulped. Just Elijah. Sure. How reassuring.

The room felt like it was spinning around you, but as you looked at him, everything steadied. He took a step back, unbuttoning his collar slowly. You wanted him. You could barely stop yourself from reaching for his belt, your hunger overriding every thought and impulse. You mustered all the self-control Elijah had taught you, forcing yourself to sit still as your thighs clenched together, the urge to relieve yourself building and building.

Elijah tilted his head, enjoying how desperate you were becoming, a slow smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as his shirt came undone. He tossed the article of clothing on the ground.

Your eyes drifted over his bare chest, his nice arms and toned torso. A breath escaped you when your eyes moved down to see the defined outline of his cock against the material of his slacks. He was big, so big, so thick, so—

Your face went hot. A jolt of reality hitting you, everything felt so much, all at once. The hunger for his touch, for his taste. The way he smelled so fucking good. Everything was amplified, your every sense alive and thrumming. You bit your lip and watched as his slacks hit the ground and he stepped out of them, your mouth practically salivating.

Elijah was fucking stunning, and all yours.

He smiled and placed one of his knees on the edge of the bed. The movement made it bounce ever so slightly, and your eyes widened, your mouth opened, but the only sound you could manage was a squeak.

He reached for you, pulling you close and capturing your lips in his again. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to surrendered to him, letting yourself feel him, really feel him.

"This is going to feel very intense for you," he murmured in the small space between your mouths, "your emotions and needs heightened. All your senses are in overdrive."

A sigh left you as you opened your eyes again to meet his, dark and full of promises you never dreamed of before. His eyes, they made you tremble, they were so warm, so intense. And when they dropped to your mouth, the heat pooling between your thighs intensified tenfold.

"Don't feed until I say so, you understand?" He pulled back slightly, tilting his head and giving you a warning look, making sure he had your complete attention.

You swallowed and nodded. "I won't,"

"Good girl," he hummed before dipping down to kiss your lips.

His kiss was more possessive, his touch more demanding. Elijah pushed you back into the bed, your hair sprawling around you as he kissed you senseless. His lips left yours and kissed down your jawline, down your neck, to the swell of your breasts. You moaned when you felt his hot, wet mouth close around your nipple, your body thrumming when he nipped your flesh between his teeth, giving the other the same treatment.

The throbbing was intense and so damn good. His mouth was magic as he kissed a path down your stomach, making you feel like your entire being was ablaze, your desire burning deep. You writhed, his lips curling into a smile against your skin. He could probably hear how hard your heart was pounding. He was driving you mad with need.

"Please, Elijah," you breathed, squirming beneath him as his mouth continued to work over you, down your abdomen.

A deep, husky chuckle rumbled in his chest as his lips pressed to the sensitive skin on your inner thighs, teasing, tantalizing you with each featherlight kiss. Your breathing picked up, his mouth so close to where you wanted him. Both of your hands tangled in his dark hair, nerves and anticipation waring in your mind.

His hands came up, parting your knees slowly. He hooked your legs over his broad shoulders, widening his tongue and lapping you from your core to your clit, giving the tiny bud a teasing swirl of his tongue. The moan you let out was low and full of lust, a kind of lust you'd never felt before. Magnified, overwhelming, intoxicating.

"Relax, angel," His lips brushed over the sensitive bundle of nerves with each word, making your heart jump to your throat, making it almost hard to breathe.

Your hips rolled forward, pushing you against his lips, seeking more pressure, more friction. You felt so wanton, so desperate, so needy. You felt him smile against your core as his mouth engulfed you, his tongue swirling and sucking as he slowly pressed his middle finger inside you.

Your whole body stiffened and clenched around him as your mouth fell open. A string of low and soft curses fell from your lips, and your back arched against his bed as he pumped his finger in and out.

"Elijah, oh, oh fuck," your voice broke as another moan escaped you when his tongue lapped at your clit. He curled his finger up inside you, sending a ripple of heat straight up your spine.

You tipped over the edge instantly, a white-hot heat engulfing you. You came in waves, your eyes clenched shut as your head fell back into the plush comforter beneath you. Elijah didn't stop his movements, working you through your climax and beyond until your hips stilled, and your breathing leveled out.

You felt so spent, but the ache inside you only deepened, intensified. You knew what you really needed to quench the fire, you knew that Elijah was the only one who could give you that. Your fangs itched, throbbing behind your gums, ready to come out when the moment was right.

Elijah sat up, wiping his mouth and looking pleased with himself as he looked down at your naked form beneath him. You bit your lip, heat creeping into your cheeks as you smiled at him.

"That was..." you trailed off, unable to form the proper words to describe what the fuck you had just experienced.

Elijah grinned as he dipped back down and pressed a long and loving kiss to your lips. He pulled you closer as you deepened the kiss. He kissed you so sweetly and softly, his hands resting on your lower back and his tongue slowly mapping out your mouth. You hummed into his kiss as you ran your fingers down his toned back, pulling him close.

"Now, my sweet angel," Elijah murmured, tilting your face up so his dark eyes locked with yours. "Are you ready for your final lesson?"

"Yes, Elijah," you whispered, your lips brushing against his. “Please,”

Elijah took one of your legs and wrapped it around him as his cock nudged your core. He was teasing you, moving the tip up and down your slit, making your entire body quiver as he kissed down your neck, finding a spot just behind your ear and nibbling gently.

He continued this pattern, your whines becoming needy and pathetic. Elijah's smirk pressed to your skin as his fangs nipped at your shoulder. Your head rolled back, giving him more room as he suckled on your pulse point.

"Such a good student for me, always listening, always eager." He said between nips. "Are you going to keep being my good girl?"

A strangled yes fell from your lips as Elijah nudged at your entrance. You whined and panted, trying to wiggle your hips and get him to sink his cock inside you, but he only chuckled and gripped your hips, pinning you to the bed as he nuzzled your neck.

"Let's not be impatient," he whispered, the low and possessive tone in his voice made a shiver roll down your spine. "There's so much I have yet to teach you, darling."

Elijah pressed his hips forward, and you felt the tip of him press against your entrance. He moved his face away from your neck as he pressed into you.

Your hands clung to him as you braced for it, this thing, this big, scary thing you never experienced, was suddenly happening. “It's okay," he hummed, "just breathe, angel,"

Your face felt warm as you looked at him and took a deep breath. He leaned forward, kissing your lips lovingly as his hands squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, sinking deeper.

His thrusts were slow, languid, intense. Elijah held himself up on his forearms, caging you as he looked down at you. Your mouth parted as your eyes locked with his. His slow and teasing rhythm had you trembling beneath him.

"My sweet little vampire," he purred, a deep sound in the back of his throat. "So good for me."

The words of praise were too much, the sight of Elijah above you, the feeling of him inside you. Your nails raked down his back, digging into his skin, needing him closer, wanting more, desperate to consume it all. 

A sudden vampiric urge took over, and you pushed on his chest with all your strength, he chuckled and sat back, letting you take the lead with a smirk on his face. In one swift move you were straddling his lap, sinking back down onto his cock and making both of you moan.

You were running on pure instinct as you began to move your hips, trying to find the right rhythm. He cupped your ass in his hands, his thumbs stroked your skin gently as you bounced up and down on his lap.

"Like this, angel," he said softly, repositioning your knees as you gripped his shoulders. "Here," he pulled one hand away from your ass to show you the correct motion to roll your hips with, guiding you until your movements matched his instructions.

"A fast learner in all things," He purred as a grin formed on your face, making him smile in return. You kept the movement of your hips steady, trying to control the bloodlust in your peripherals. 

Your hips slowed and you leaned forward to kiss along his neck, your fangs extending, and a new feeling came over you. A hunger that couldn't be filled by blood or sex. This hunger needed both, primally, simultaneously. And it had a target.

You felt him grip you a little tighter as your hips rocked a little faster. The bed began to creak softly beneath you as you increased your rhythm, his head rolled back with a soft moan. The sound only spurred you on.

Elijah gripped the back of your head and pulled you up for a kiss. He moaned into your mouth when you swirled your hips. The movement caused your clit to rub against him, giving you that delicious friction you so badly needed.

The wild hunger was taking over, obscene bloodlust. Clouding all reasoning. Your fangs ached with a painful desire to bite him, sink into him, take his blood.

"Elijah," you murmured between kisses. You couldn't wait any longer. Your eyes were black, your fangs extended, veins dancing under your eyes, and Elijah chuckled at the look. "Elijah, can I—"

He kissed you harder, his grip on your hips tightening. "Take what you need, angel,"

A growl came from the back of your throat, and your lips went straight to his neck. The moment you sunk your fangs in his skin, he moaned deeply, making your clench around him.

Time seemed to fall away as you tasted Elijah's blood. It was rich and sweet, nothing like anything you'd ever tasted before. It felt like you were in some sort of haze, unable to stop yourself from bouncing and moaning in Elijah's lap as you fed on him. Blinded by pure and unadulterated pleasure.

It was heaven, pure and simple, the taste of him. A moan rumbled from the depths of his chest, and you felt the reverberation of his groan through his neck.

You were drunk off his blood, high off his touch. Everything about him was intoxicating. The sounds, the taste, the feeling, the sin of it all.

"Don't stop," he groaned. "Fuck, don't stop."

You couldn't even if you tried. You would never disobey an order from him. Your hips were moving at an almost inhuman pace, the taste of his blood only adding fuel to the fire inside. He was all yours, and you were his. Blood, sex, breath, skin, all intermingling. You felt his hand come up and tangle into your hair, holding you to his neck as his other hand moved to the small of your back, adjusting your rhythm to an inhuman level.

"Just like that, angel, fuck," his voice was a strangled whisper, his head rolled back as a loud, throaty groan left him.

The way his body stiffened, the way he moaned, and the way his hips snapped up into yours, his cock thrusting deep into you had you seeing stars. You were coming, your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

It was all too much. His blood, his cum, the feeling of him deep inside you, the taste of him on your lips, the scent of him everywhere. Everything exploded at once. White hot fire rolled over and under your skin, like you were being consumed by napalm. 

He moaned deeply as you rode out your orgasms, his arms wrapped tightly around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his chest. You panted, trying to catch your breath as his mouth found yours, he bit down on your lip, your own blood flooding his mouth, mingling with the taste of his. Completing the connection, blood mixing, becoming one. 

You were panting, breathless, sated. But the need wasn't gone. The hunger lingered. The desire remained. You didn't think it would ever be fully quenched.

Elijah pressed a few gentle kisses to your lips before he laid down, bringing you with him. He shifted so that his softening cock slipped out of you and cradled you in his arms, kissing the top of your head as the two of you lay there in silence, catching your breath.

Your body felt exhausted and sore, but so fucking good, too. Your head was swimming as Elijah looked at you with a tender, loving gaze, a hint of pride lingering in the brown eyes that studied you. You felt your face grow hot under his scrutiny, feeling self-conscious from how intensely he was watching you.

Elijah’s fingers traced idle circles against your back, his breath warm against your temple. "You’re thinking too much, angel," he murmured, amusement laced in his voice.

You hesitated, then sighed. "I just... I don’t know what this means to you." The words felt clumsy now, uncertain in a way you hadn’t been when you had marched into his study and asked him to ruin you.

Elijah hummed, tilting his head like he was considering something. "Curious," he mused. "You certainly weren’t so hesitant when you strolled into my study and propositioned me like one might ask for a book recommendation."

The heat that bloomed across your cheeks was now traveling down your neck. "That was different."

"Was it?" He chuckled, low and indulgent. "You seemed quite certain then. So impatient, so eager. So hopelessly distracted during our lessons. Tell me, was it always lust muddling your focus, or was it just me?"

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. "I regret everything."

"No, you don’t," he countered, the smug grin evident in his voice. "But tell me, angel, why the sudden uncertainty?"

You bit your lip, the vulnerability creeping back in. "I don’t know if this was just... a lesson for you. That this is just casual,"

Elijah stilled for half a second. Just long enough for doubt to gnaw at you. Before he tipped your chin up, his eyes were dark but soft. "You are a rarity," he began, voice like silk. "Fascinating, infuriating. Bold enough to challenge me, reckless enough to walk into my study and ask the unthinkable. Do you know how long it has been since someone has surprised me?"

You swallowed hard, and he smiled. "That is why I call you angel," he murmured, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your forehead. "Because I look at you and I see heaven."

Your chest ached at the weight of his words. He had called you angel from the moment he agreed to this. He had looked at you with something unreadable, something reverent, like he was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

Elijah was right; this was a lesson for you, but not the one either of you had expected. It wasn't about control, or restraint, or blood. It was a lesson in trust, in opening your heart, and it was the last thing either of you had thought to expect.

And as Elijah leaned down and kissed you again, his hands gentle and possessive and loving all at once, you knew it was the beginning of something wonderful.

[princesssarahblog]

escape from rafe - one shot - smut!

boyfriend!jj maybank x girlfriend!reader

when jj gives sarah the letter from "vlad", he runs into rafe again and he starts running away from cameron and ends up running into his gorgeous girlfriend

warnin: reader in dress! (imagine any dress you want), impatient!jj, pussy eating, overstim, language

author notes: I don't remember this episode and phrases a little, but it's not important here. only the scene between jj and the reader is important. have a nice reading!

jj winks at sarah as he hands her the letter from vlad and immediately starts to leave, but he is immediately grabbed and it was.. rafe. rafe fucking cameron. jj sometimes thinks that the rich kook has some kind of magnet for him, they run into each other too often lately and jj definitely doesn't like it

"having a good time?" rafe says with a grin, holding his hands on the blond's and looking down at him.

"yeah, it'll be even better without you," jj said through gritted teeth, smiling "cutely" and removing cameron's hands from his arms.

and then another chase began, jj ran wherever his eyes looked and even managed to drink a little alcohol. he ran so fast that he didn't notice how he crashed into someone, jj instinctively placed hands on into the arms of the human he had bumped into and slowly looked up, it was you.

and you looked simply stunning, in a beautiful dress that perfectly emphasized your body. the blond couldn't take his eyes off you. jj's hands squeezed your hands a little tighter but not so much that it bothered you, you felt his strong hands on your softer and neater girlish hands, whistling.

"wow..what a gorgeous kitty i almost knocked over" jj smirked pulling you towards him and slowly pressing his lips to yours pulling you into a passionate kiss. he noticed the open door and immediately pushed you into the room, it turned out to be just a closet

jj breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he presses his back against the closet door, sliding it shut with you still in his arms. his heart races, partly from the chase and partly from the electrifying kiss. he glances down at you, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips.

"jj don't even think about it, not here." you said, trying to be strict. It was all bad.. he wanted sex here and now. you was mad at your mom for listening to her and wearing that dress

jj ignores yours protests, his gaze locked on your stunning figure. he sets you down gently, then pulls you into another passionate kiss, his hands roaming over your curves as he tries to calm his racing heart.

"shh, just for a minute, okay?"

you struggles against the kiss, but jj's desperation and the adrenaline from the chase proves too much. you finds yourself melting into his embrace, your hands tangling in his hair as you returns the kiss. you knows you shouldn't, but jj always had a way of making you weak in the knees.

jj smirks against your lips, knowing he's getting exactly what he wanted. his hands move to your waist, pulling you closer.

"see? even when you're mad at me, you still can't resist me..."

he whispers huskily, his hands trailing down your sides.

he slowly lowers himself down, pushing up your dress to expose your thighs. he spreads your legs slightly, careful not to crease your dress. he looks up at you, making sure you're not pushing him away. jj knows you gets self-conscious about quickies, especially when you looks this good.

jj leans in, pressing soft kisses along your inner thigh, his hands gently caressing your skin. he looks up at you, his eyes filled with desire and affection.

"you look so fucking beautiful, baby.. I can't help myself around you. just let me taste you real quick, okay?"

you bites your lip, unable to resist jj's persuasive touches and words. you glances nervously towards the closet door, knowing anyone could walk in at any moment. yet the heat building between your legs overrides your logical concerns. you nods hesitantly, your fingers threading through jj's hair.

with your's permission, jj buries his face between your thighs, his tongue darting out to lick at your pussy through your lace panties. he sucks gently on the fabric, his fingers kneading your thighs as he tries to be quiet, not wanting to draw attention to their clandestine moment.

the sound of rafe and other kooks searching the house grows louder, their voices drifting closer to the closet. jj knows he needs to hurry if he wants to finish without getting caught. he hooks his fingers under the elastic of your's panties and pulls them to the side, revealing your glistening pussy.

his tongue darts out, finally tasting your properly. he focuses on her clit, circles it with deliberate precision while looking up at your face. even in the dim closet light, he can see your expression - eyes closed, mouth slightly parted, enjoying each careful lick. "shh.."

your's breath hitches as jj's skilled tongue finds your most sensitive spot. you bites your lip harder to stifle a moan, your hips shifting slightly to press yourself more firmly against his mouth. the risk of being caught only heightens your arousal.

"jj.. hurry.."

jj smirkingly obliges, knowing how much faster he can make your come when he focuses. his tongue thrusts inside you, then back up to swirl around your clit. he adds two fingers, pumping them in and out rapidly while his tongue continues its assault. he knows exactly what you likes.

your's breathing grows shallower, your body tensing as you gets closer to the edge. jj can feel your trembling above him, knows you're about to break. he wraps his arms around your thighs, pulling you closer to his face as he doubles his efforts.

with one final, intense lick, your's body seizes up, a silent scream of pleasure contorting your face as you comes hard against jj's mouth. he laps up your juices eagerly, his fingers still pumping inside you until you're fully spent. "fuck.. jj.." you whispers, your legs shaking.

jj gives your pussy one last, gentle kiss before straightening up and pulling your panties back into place. he stands, pressing a finger to his lips in a'shh' gesture before leaning in to whisper in your ear. "I think we're clear... for now."

"let me kiss you.." you whispers very quietly, hugging him around the neck with both hands and pulling him into a passionate kiss and feeling yourself on his lips. lots of juices and sperm. and all of it is yours.

you moans softly into jj's mouth, tasting yourself mixed with remnants of his sperm from earlier. you loves that your bodies are practically fused together this way - one kiss can taste like a mix of them both. you pulls back slightly to lick his jaw, collecting more of their combined fluids.

jj chuckles quietly, amused by your's enthusiasm for tasting you're both intimate mingling. he tilts his head, offering you're better access to clean his jaw with playful obedience. once you're satisfied, he captures your lips again, kissing your deeply, languidly.

your kiss becomes more intense, tongues entwining as they silently express their passion. the sound of rafe's voice fades - they've moved away from the closet. jj's hands slide down to grip your ass firmly, pressing their bodies together. "miss me already?"

"I miss you even when you're around.." you laughed at your own words, pressing your forehead to his, enjoying the moment. at least there were some quiet moments in the pogues lives.. and they both appreciated them

[jiminomenon]

assistant! reader gets jealous

pairing: model! karina x assistant! female reader

word count: 893

tag(s): winrina lore revealed, y/n gets jealous, rina being confused abt the entire thing, giselle’s a snitch, the first time y/n gets jealous

from my series: the devil wears prada

y/n should not be upset. she knew that.

jimin had friends. jimin had history. that was just the kind of person she was—someone who attracted attention effortlessly, someone who had people wrapped around her finger, past and present. y/n knew all this. she had always known it.

but somehow, none of that made it easier to watch minjeong lean in close, whispering something in jimin’s ear that made the supermodel laugh, the sound soft and sweet in a way that was reserved for people she actually liked.

y/n hadn’t thought much of minjeong at first. she knew she was one of jimin’s closest friends, another model who had built a name for herself in the industry. they had worked together plenty of times, and from what y/n had seen, they got along very well.

but that was all she had thought—until she overheard aeri teasing jimin about her past with minjeong, and suddenly everything made sense.

“still can’t believe you two never made it official,” aeri had said, laughing as she clinked her wine glass against jimin’s.

“please,” jimin scoffed, lips curling into a smirk. “it was fun, but minjeong and i both knew what it was. no hard feelings.”

“none at all,” minjeong had added, grinning. “but it was a good time, wasn’t it?”

y/n had gripped her drink a little too tightly then.

and now, as she watched them from across the room, she was gripping her tablet in the same way, her fingers tightening every time minjeong so much as brushed against jimin’s arm.

she should not be upset.

but she was.

y/n’s mood did not improve by the time they got back to jimin’s penthouse.

she knew she was being ridiculous, knew that her cold silence was both immature and completely unnecessary, but she could not bring herself to act normal. she hadn’t spoken a word since they left the event, and she had no plans to start now.

but, of course, jimin had other plans.

“okay, what is your problem?”

y/n didn’t even look up from her tablet. “i don’t have a problem.”

jimin let out a sharp laugh, placing her hands on her hips. “oh, so you’ve just suddenly decided to stop talking to me for no reason?”

“mhm.”

jimin narrowed her eyes. “y/n.”

silence.

“y/n.”

still nothing.

“you’re seriously acting like a child right now.”

y/n finally exhaled, closing her tablet with a thud. “i just don’t have anything to say to you.”

“oh, please,” jimin scoffed. “you always have something to say. so what is it?”

y/n crossed her arms, leaning back against the couch. “it’s nothing.”

jimin stared at her, expression unreadable, before something flickered in her eyes. “wait.” she smirked, slow and knowing. “you’re jealous.”

y/n’s jaw clenched. “i’m not jealous.”

“you’re totally jealous,” jimin said, grinning like she had just won something.

“i—” y/n inhaled sharply, forcing herself to stay calm. “i just think it’s interesting how you didn’t tell me that you and minjeong used to—” she gestured vaguely, ”—do whatever you did.”

jimin rolled her eyes. “because it wasn’t important.”

“wasn’t it?” y/n shot back, tilting her head. “you two sure looked important to each other tonight.”

jimin groaned, running a hand through her hair. “oh my god, y/n.”

“what?” y/n challenged.

“we’re just friends,” jimin stressed. “it was never serious. it’s not like we were in love or something. it was just fun.”

“oh, so i’m supposed to be okay with watching you flirt with your ex-fling all night?”

“i wasn’t flirting,” jimin defended.

“right,” y/n deadpanned.

jimin exhaled sharply, her patience clearly wearing thin. “you are being so—” she cut herself off, taking a deep breath before speaking again. “you’re mad over nothing.”

y/n scoffed, shaking her head. “whatever. it doesn’t matter.”

“it does matter,” jimin argued. “because you’re mad, and i don’t like it when you’re mad at me.”

y/n faltered at that, lips pressing together.

jimin sighed, stepping closer. “for the record,” she said, voice softer now, “minjeong and i are just friends. i don’t care about her like that anymore.”

y/n looked up at her, hesitant. “you sure act close.”

jimin raised a brow. “and? you and i are closer.”

y/n swallowed, warmth creeping up her neck. “yeah?”

“yeah.” jimin flicked her forehead lightly. “obviously. you’re the one i keep around, aren’t you?”

y/n rubbed her forehead with a pout. “that hurt.”

“you’ll live.”

a beat of silence passed between them before jimin shifted on her feet, suddenly looking a little uncomfortable. “listen, i…” she exhaled sharply, clearly struggling with her next words. “i guess i should have told you about minjeong before tonight. i didn’t think it mattered, but…” she hesitated before finally sighing. “i’m sorry, okay?”

y/n blinked. “that’s… not really an apology.”

jimin scowled. “ugh, fine. i’m sorry for not telling you and for talking to minjeong in a way that made you upset. there. happy?”

y/n studied her for a moment before a slow smirk curled her lips. “that was painful for you, wasn’t it?”

jimin scoffed, flipping her hair dramatically. “whatever. are you coming or not?”

y/n chuckled, finally following after her. “yeah, yeah. lead the way, supermodel.”

“you’re never letting this go, are you?”

“nope.”

[fandoms-x-reader]

Apologize

Requested Anonymously

Headcannons

Summary: The brothers say something too harsh to MC so MC refuses to talk to them or interact with them. The Seven Demon Brothers x Reader Word Count: 8,242

It wasn’t unusual for Lucifer to get snappy with others.

He was constantly overworked and over exhausted and his brothers liked to cause as much trouble for him as possible.

But, no matter how tired he was, Lucifer always did his best to keep his composure around you.

He had been working really hard on a specific project for Lord Diavolo recently and you could see how tired he was.

You made frequent trips to his study, bringing him his favorite drink and massaging his shoulders whenever you could to try to help.

But, now Lucifer was barely able to keep his eyes open anymore and you couldn’t stand to see him like this.

You carefully approached him and gently rubbed his arm, taking a seat next to him. He didn’t even look up from his papers.

“Lucifer, I think you should take a break,” you told him honestly.

“I don’t have time for that Y/N,” he replied, continuing to work.

“At least for a little bit? A break would do you some good,” you tried again, and he let out an irritated sigh.

“I already told you, I don’t have time for that,” he reiterated, more annoyed this time. 

But, you were really worried about him, so you didn’t want to give up so easily.

“Lucifer,” you began again and he slammed his hand down on his desk making you let out a small gasp.

“What I’m doing is important and I need to concentrate, so if you’re just going to keep pestering me then just leave because, at this point, all you are is a nuisance,” he stated coldly.

You looked at him for a moment, feeling the sting of his words but not knowing how to react. He didn’t even care enough to see that his words had hurt you.

“Fine,” you muttered before getting up and leaving his study.

 Lucifer was really in the thick of it with work so he didn’t even realize the words that he had said and how they must have hurt you until later.

He was still in his study and he sat back in his chair, rolling shoulders as he let out a small groan of pain. They were sore from spending so much time in the same position. Usually, you would try and massage them to help prevent them from getting to this point.

He then looked down at his teacup and noticed that it was completely empty and had been for a while. But, you always made sure to bring him his favorite drink so that he could continue to work.

That’s when Lucifer began thinking back to the last time he saw you enter his study and what happened the last time. 

He let out a deep sigh as he replayed the words he had said to you in his head. Surely, you knew that he didn’t mean them, right? He loved you and you had to know that.

He wanted nothing more than to go and apologize to you but he had to keep working. It was his responsibility.

Meanwhile, you avoided Lucifer’s study at all costs. You were just trying to help Lucifer and if he couldn’t see that then you didn’t have anything else to say to him.

Lucifer only lasted one day without seeing you when he started to grow concerned. He tried sending you a couple of text messages, not wanting to leave his study, but he was met with crickets and he couldn’t stand it any longer.

He had reached a point in the project where, perhaps, he could take a small break and he immediately went to your bedroom, knocking on your door.

There was no answer and while he was tempted to break it down to make sure you weren’t in there ignoring him, he kept his composure.

You had just come back from the kitchen, a drink in hand when you saw Lucifer standing in front of your bedroom door.

You stopped in your tracks as the two of you made eye contact and you took in his appearance.

He looked even more miserable than he did the last time you saw him.

Neither of you said anything for a few moments, just staring at each other.

After another moment, you spun on your heels, trying to retreat back to the kitchen.

Lucifer was in front of you in an instant, inches away from you and the close proximity itself was enough to start revitalizing him.

“Are you avoiding me?” he asked, his deep voice wanting to make you swoon after not hearing it for an entire day. But, you stood your ground.

“Why shouldn’t I be? Since I’m just a nuisance to you and all,” you replied, your eyes filled with noticeable seriousness and hurt.

It took a lot to make Lucifer falter, but when you threw his words to you back at him, he nearly winced as if you slapped him.

He took a step closer to you before telling you, “You know that I don’t really think that.”

You let out a small sigh as you looked down to the ground and Lucifer realized that maybe he had really messed up this time. Maybe you really didn’t know how he truly felt about you. 

He gently raised your chin with one of his gloved hands so that you were looking at him before gently pressing his lips on yours in an intimate kiss.

When he pulled away, his eyes locked with you as he told you, “You could never be a nuisance to me, because I love you.”

And those were the words you were waiting to hear - the ones that always made you swoon even if you were mad at him.

“Please, come back and join me in my study,” he asked, his hand dropping down to interlace his fingers with yours.

Under his intense gaze, you couldn’t help but feel your resolve cracking as you allowed him to lead you to his study.

Once there, you told Lucifer, “You still have some making up to do.” Lucifer smirked slightly at your words before sitting down on his chair and pulling you into his lap.

You nearly spilled your drink at his actions and his smirk only grew. “I still have some work to do, but this way, I can pay attention to you as well,” he told you, one arm wrapping around you to keep you in place while the other continued to write on the document in front of him.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Lucifer continued to speak before you could, his lips inches from your ear as he told you, “Then, when I’m done with this, you can have my full attention.”

Mammon had just completed a long photoshoot for a magazine that wanted him to be his model.

It was a lot of work, but the paycheck was worth it and he already knew what he wanted to do with it. Take you on a date!

Mammon was so excited to take you out that you couldn’t help but say yes.

He was always in a good mood whenever he came into money, no matter how that may be, but it was even better when he got to spend time with you because of it.

He had a whole plan to take you to a traveling carnival that was passing through the Devildom and the two of you left almost immediately.

The carnival was a lot bigger than you were expecting, filled with rides, food stalls, thrill acts and so much more.

You had been enjoying your time with Mammon there and it was one of the rare times that you got to see him drop his act and just be himself around you without the worry of one of his brothers being around.

He was even holding your hand the entire time, a small blush coating his cheeks as he tried to play the action off like it was no big deal.

After going on one of the more thrilling rides, the two of you decided to take a break and you sat down on a nearby bench as you watched one of the acts that was performing.

Your head rested against Mammon’s shoulder and this thumb traced circles on the back of your hand.

Suddenly, a random demon appeared sitting right next to Mammon and looking at the two of you. 

You raised your head to pay attention, confused as to what he wanted and the demon leaned in closer, talking in a quiet voice. Mammon was about to tell him to get lost when the demon spoke. 

“You’re Mammon, the Avatar of Greed, right?” the demon asked with hope in his eyes.

You and Mammon shared a look, questioning how this demon knew Mammon and that was all the confirmation he needed.

“I knew it!” he said with a smile before adding, “Please, sir, follow me and I’ll lead you to the undercover casino.”

Mammon’s eyes widened at his words. “Undercover casino?” Mammon asked. He didn’t know there would be one at this carnival.

“Yes, you’re one of our best patrons. If you come with me, we can treat you to the full service,” the demon replied and you could practically see Mammon’s eyes light up with gold.

“Mammon, I don’t think we should-,” you tried to say but you were cut off by him jumping up, a large smile on his face.

“Lead the way!” Mammon said and the demon lit up as he began showing the two of you the way.

“Mammon, I think this is a bad idea,” you told him and he gave your hand a small squeeze.

“Don’t worry! We’ll only stay for a few minutes,” he replied, and you let out a small sigh. It was never a few minutes.

And you were right, just like you knew you would be. The two of you were there for at least an hour as Mammon’s train of thought was completely taken over by his greed.

“I’m sorry, sir, but if you want to keep playing, you’ll have to put up more money,” the dealer stated and Mammon searched his wallet for more. Empty. 

“Y/N, loan me some money, will ya’?” Mammon asked and you could feel yourself start to get annoyed. 

“Mammon, you already lost all of the money you earned from that job. Let’s just call it a night,” you tried to reason with him, but his lips turned into a frown.

“C’mon, don’t be such a killjoy. I’m gonna win big this time, I know it!” Mammon tried to convince you, but you were done with the casino.

“Mammon, we should go home,” you stated more firmly.

“I spent the whole night doin’ what you wanted, so the least you could do is spend some time doin’ what I want!” Mammon argued.

His words cut you, but you tried to gain control of the situation. “Mammon-,” you tried once again but he cut you off with a loud groan of frustration.

“If I wanted someone to ruin my fun then I would have taken Lucifer,” Mammon stated before muttering, “Jeez, I don’t even know why I took ya’ out in the first place.”

Your heart dropped at his words as you felt tears sting your eyes, but you wouldn’t let him see them fall. Fine.

You searched through your things to find your money and handed it to Mammon who had a large smile on his face at the sight of it. “Bet as much as you want. I’m going home,” you stated before walking away and back to the House of Lamentation.

Just as you knew, once again, Mammon lost all of the money you had given him and now he had nothing left.

He looked around the casino for you and when he couldn’t find you, he started calling you and texting you. Did you really leave?

As the money-hungry fog started to lift from his mind, Mammon was able to start thinking clearly and he realized just how badly he had messed up. 

He continued to try to call you as he made his way back to the House of Lamentation, but you refused to answer his calls.

When he got to the house, he immediately went to your room and knocked on your bedroom door, but he was met with more silence.

He tried to get you to open the door the entire night but when he realized you weren’t going to, he sulked back to his room. How was he supposed to fix this if you wouldn’t talk to him?

Your silent treatment continued for the next few days. You wouldn’t talk to him at RAD and you would lock him out of your room before he had a chance to talk to you back at the House of Lamentation.

Mammon was growing more and more depressed about it too. He wasn’t sleeping, he was barely eating, and he felt like there was nothing he could do about it.

You had purposefully been only leaving your room at times when you thought Mammon would be out of the house or asleep.

It was too painful to see after the things he said to you when you were just trying to keep him from getting further into debt.

It was a little after midnight when you decided to go to the kitchen to get some food. You managed to make it to the fridge with no problem, but right as you grabbed the item you wanted, Mammon suddenly entered.

The two of you looked at each other in shock, neither one of you expecting the other to be there.

You wanted nothing more than to go back to your room, but he was blocking the exit.

“Uh…hi,” Mammon said, looking down at the ground. He was nervous and under any other circumstance, you would feel a little bad for him.

He didn’t say anything else, so you decided to try to push past him to get back to your room.

But as you passed him, Mammon gently grabbed your arm. “Wait,” he said, finally bringing himself to look at you and you paused to listen to what he had to say.

He was bad at speeches so he said the first thing that came to his mind. “I miss ya’.”

And his puppy dog eyes and those words that sounded so sad were enough to almost make you cave. Almost.

Mammon could tell it wasn’t enough so he continued to say, “I’m sorry about what I said. You’re the only one I want to go out with and I don’t know why ya’ even agreed to go out with me,” he told you honestly and you could see the heartbreak in his eyes, shattering the walls that you had put up.

You gently reached up and cupped his cheek with one of your hands and he immediately leaned into your touch. 

You pulled away after a moment and began walking to your room, leaving a very confused Mammon standing there.

You turned back to face him when you realized he wasn’t following you and you motioned towards your room before asking, “Are you coming?”

He got a big smile at your words and he nodded his head, letting you lead him to your room.

As soon as you shut the door, Mammon engulfed you in his arms, pulling you onto the bed and refusing to let go.

You let yourself melt in his embrace before telling him, “No more gambling on dates.”

He gently pressed his lips to yours before replying, “Promise.”

There were a few things that Levi was uptight about and those things usually had something to do with either his anime, manga, or videogames.

Other than those things, Levi was usually pretty nonchalant. He didn’t care what others did or didn’t do and he didn’t complain if they didn’t spend time with him.

He just usually did his own thing and you admired him for that.

It didn’t take long for you and Levi to start hanging out, common interests bringing the two of you together.

And Levi soon found that he was going against all of his beliefs as a shut-in. He was starting to actually care about what others did. Well, about what one person did in particular.

Things that Levi used to love to do by himself didn’t seem as fun when you weren’t around, so he tried to invite you over as much as he possibly could.

You didn’t mind at all because Levi usually invited you to do something you liked doing anyway.

Levi never had someone that liked the same things he liked as much as you did, which is probably what added to his infatuation of spending time with you.

And it was like a secret that only the two of you shared, or a language that only the two of you knew how to speak.

Or, that’s how Levi thought of it until he caught you and Solomon talking at RAD.

You had mentioned one of your and Levi���s favorite games to Solomon and he had, surprisingly, known about it.

So the two of you started talking about all your favorite characters and mechanics of the game. 

In your defense, it was a completely innocent conversation between friends, but Levi didn’t see it that way.

What he saw is the way you smiled at Solomon as he spoke, in a way that Levi only wanted you to look at him.

And what he heard was the way you sweetly laughed at Solomon’s jokes, with a laugh that was supposed to be reserved for his ears.

And then, you invited Solomon to come over to the House of Lamentation and play the game with you and Levi.

His sin had taken over him faster than he could process what was happening and he stood in between you and Solomon in his demon form, a very unhappy look on his place.

“Levi? Are you okay?” you asked him, worried when you saw the form he was in.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked you, sending a glance to Solomon.

“We were just talking,” you replied, confused as to what he was getting at.

“You invited him to play our game!” Levi snapped back and you and Solomon shared a look as you realized why he might be upset.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think it would be a big deal,” you replied honestly. Solomon and Levi were friends and Solomon had come over lots of time to play games with Levi, so why should this time be any different?

But your words seemed to only set Levi off more as his insecurities got the better of him.

“Well, it might not seem like a big deal to you but it’s a big deal to me,” he replied and you could hear the hurt in his voice. The conversation was spiraling and you didn’t know how to stop it.

“Levi, I didn’t mean anything by that,” you tried to reason but he was too far in his head down.

“This is what I get I guess,” he stated and you looked at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you questioned. 

“It means I never should have tried to be friends with some lame normie who doesn’t care about anyone but themselves,” Levi snapped back and this time it was your turn to be hurt.

“Let’s all calm down,” Solomon interjected, trying to de-escalate the situation and Levi’s demon form caught the attention of Lucifer. Levi knew furthering the fight would only get him involved, so he backed down.

“Whatever,” Levi muttered before walking away and Solomon turned to you. 

“Are you okay?” Solomon asked you and you replied with a short, “I’m fine.”

You went back to the House of Lamentation with the full intention of avoiding Levi and giving him the silent treatment, which was all too easy to do because he didn’t leave his room after the fight.

You were both getting more and more miserable as you spent time apart, but Levi was upset because he thought you liked Solomon and you were upset because of what he said to you so neither of you were ready to apologize.

After about a week of the two of you not speaking, it was starting to affect everyone else as well.

Solomon decided to do something about it since he was technically involved.

He came to Levi’s room, fully expecting Levi to not answer the door; but, he had.

Truth be told, Levi had only opened it in the hopes that you would be on the other side but he was largely disappointed when he saw Solomon standing there.

“What are you doing here?” Levi asked and Solomon gave him an innocent smile.

“I was hoping to talk to you for a moment,” Solomon replied. 

“About what?” Levi asked and Solomon’s expression turned to a serious one.

“About Y/N,” he replied and at the mention of your name, a blush rose to Levi’s cheeks.

“I don’t want to talk about them,” Levi replied, attempting to shut the door to his room but Solomon stopped him.

“Please, just listen,” Solomon said and Levi, having no choice, let him continue.

“The only reason that Y/N and I were talking about the game was because they were telling me how much they’ve been enjoying playing it with you,” Solomon told Levi. 

“So?” Levi asked and Solomon wanted to roll his eyes at the oblivious demon.

“They were telling me about how much they’ve been enjoying spending time with you,” Solomon tried to further clarify.

Something clicked in Levi’s mind this time and his cheeks burned a furious red as he understood what Solomon was trying to say. 

He quickly slammed the door on Solomon’s face to process the new information on his own and then he felt like a total idiot for snapping at you.

It only took him a few more minutes to show up at your door, nervously knocking on it. 

You opened it a few moments later and Levi saw his own miserableness reflected on you. 

“I…I know I messed everything up a-and you’ll probably never forgive me. But, I wanted to say I’m sorry and ask if you wanted to play some games,” Levi said practically in one breath before he could chicken out of it. 

He held your favorite game in his hands along with some snacks, hoping that you would let him in.

“Why would you want to spend time with a lame normie like me?” you asked and Levi winced at your words. He deserved that.

He let out a defeated sigh, casting his gaze down at the floor before telling you, “Because I don’t think you're lame. You’re the most amazing person I know. But, if you don’t want to play that’s fine, I’ll just leave you alone.”

His dejected look pulled at your heartstrings and you couldn’t help but stop him by gently grabbing his arms.

He looked back at you with hopeful eyes and you told him, “Maybe we can play for a little bit.”

Levi immediately rushed into your room, a bright smile on his face that was contagious as he set everything up.

This was only the beginning of his apology and he was going to make sure he made up for what he said.

And maybe, just maybe, along with an apology he could also confess his feelings for you.

Out of all the demon brothers, Satan was the best at holding a grudge.

After all, he had been holding once against Lucifer for his entire life. 

Satan was a classy demon but he was equally stubborn and if he didn’t want to back down from a fight, there was no making him do so.

So, when the two of you got into a fight, you knew that it was going to be one with lasting consequences.

Satan had invited you on a day trip that involved a long train ride both to and from the destination. 

He didn’t want you to be bored so he offered to lend you one of his books.

Everything was going so perfectly and it was a very romantic outing filled with sweet nothings and intimate moments.

But, then the time to go back home came and that’s when it all started falling apart.

You were frantically trying to search your bag for the book that Satan had lent you while you waited for the train to arrive, but you couldn’t find it anywhere.

 Satan noticed your frantic movements beside him and he raised an eyebrow as he looked at you. 

“What are you looking for?” he asked you as you continued to search.

“Your book,” you replied, and the content expression that was on his face moments before dropped as he felt a flicker of anger inside of him.

“The book I let you borrow?” Satan asked as you closed your bag with a frustrated sigh.

“Yes. I’m sorry, Satan, I must have left it on the train when we got off it,” you told him, a contrite expression on your face. You felt awful.

“How could you be so careless?” Satan asked and you were taken aback by his words.

“I didn’t mean to,” you argued but Satan’s wrath was only growing further and once he went down this road, it was almost impossible to stop.

“That was one of my favorite books! I only let you borrow it as a gesture of kindness,” he stated.

“Satan, I told you I was sorry. I’ll buy you another copy when we get back,” you responded.

“It won’t be the same,” he snapped back, refusing to look at you now.

“I think you’re overreacting,” you replied and you knew those words were a mistake because if he wasn’t angry before, that definitely set him off.

The two of you engaged in a very heated exchange as others looked on and the only thing that stopped you was the arrival of the train.

You and Satan refused to talk to each other the whole way back and you sat in anger and embarrassment for causing such a big scene.

You immediately went to your separate rooms as soon as you got back to the House of Lamentation and you were left to wonder how such a simple thing could ruin not only the way back but the entire trip when the two of you had been so happy together moments before that.

Satan could admit to himself that he may have overreacted a bit, but admitting it to you was a completely different story. And, you believed that you already apologized so what else was there to say?

Which left the two of you at an impasse. You wouldn’t speak to each other or even look at each other despite the ache you had for each other.

The others had heard about what happened and tried to get the two of you to talk. After all, they all agreed that you were fighting over something trivial, but neither you nor Satan gave in.

It wasn’t until the two of you got stuck in a situation a couple of weeks later that he realized how stupid the argument was.

Satan was reading in the library at the House of Lamentation and you walked in to grab your own book, not expecting him to be there.

As soon as you saw him, you averted your gaze, focusing on finding the book you were looking for.

Satan kept occasionally glancing at you while you searched, but he didn’t say anything.

Finally, you found the book you were looking for, but it was in a stack of books on top of one of the bookshelves.

You were struggling to reach it and could use some help. Specifically from a demon who was already there.

Satan kept his eyes on his book, a smug smile threatening to form as he knew you needed help and would have to talk to him to ask him for it.

But, you refused to give him the satisfaction, so you tried to grasp it yourself, causing them all to tumble.

You let out a gasp of pain as they fell on top of you, one of the larger ones hitting you in the head and knocking you out.

Satan was on his feet the instant he saw what happened and he quickly approached you with worry in his eyes.

You had a small cut on your forehead that was bleeding and when he saw that you were knocked out, the guilt instantly flooded him. He should’ve just helped you.

He carried you to his bedroom and treated the small cut on your forehead before sitting next to you, watching you sleep.

He wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew for a fact that you were okay.

A little while later, you began to stir and when you fluttered your eyes open, you were met with concerned, green ones.

“How are you feeling?” he asked you immediately and you slowly began to remember what happened. 

“My head hurts,” you admitted and he nodded his head, handing you some pain medicine.

You took it gratefully and as it fell silent, you realized Satan had just talked to you.

Your eyes widened as you turned to look at him again. He must have known what you were thinking because he let out a small sigh before climbing into the bed with you and pulling you into him.

You moved your head back just a bit so that you could look at him.

“I’m sorry for overreacting and for calling you careless,” he told you as he lovingly looked into your eyes, gently brushing some of your hair out of your face before leaving his fingers tangled in it.

“I’m sorry for losing your book,” you replied, savoring every moment of the touch you had craved.

“I can always get another copy,” he reassured you, gently pressing a kiss to your forehead before telling you, “You’re what I’m afraid of losing more than anything. I can’t ever get another copy of you and I wouldn’t want it.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his lips before replying, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Satan smiled at you before pulling you onto his chest so that he could hold you.  

Asmo was quick and witty when he wanted to be.

His greatest fighting tactic was his words and everyone knew that.

He could be mean to those who deserved it - but you would never deserve it.

You would never be on the opposite end of Asmo’s repartee because he simply loved you too much.

So, when Asmo said something to you that had crossed the line, he didn’t even realize it until after he said the words.

You had been having a particularly rough day and you sought Asmo out for some comfort.

He immediately suggested that the two of you have a spa day. It was the perfect way to relax!

Of course, Asmo was already fully prepared for a last-minute spa day.

He told you to just sit back and relax while he got everything ready. He knew that you would need extra pampering that day so he wanted to give you the full treatment.

And Asmo was the best at pampering you - but because of the rough day you had, you were on edge.

While doing different things, Asmo would make small comments about how you could improve certain aspects of your hair and skin routine.

Things like - your hair feels a little dry, you should try using a better conditioner. Or, your skin’s starting to look wrinkly, you need to start a better skincare routine.

To him, these comments were all coming from a place of love. He was just trying to give you advice since he had tried almost every beauty product known to the world.

But with you already being frustrated, the comments started to sound more like nagging; and, they began making you feel a bit self-conscious.

Wanting to avoid an argument, you suggested stopping the spa for now, but when Asmo kept pressing you for the reason, you snapped slightly. 

The small argument quickly blew up into a bigger one and Asmo resorted to using his quick wit as a defense mechanism.

By the end of it, you had both said things you didn’t mean and you had left his room quickly, seeking solidarity in your own.

Asmo was the biggest attention seeker in the entire house, so he doesn’t take being ignored or avoided by anyone very well.

But he especially doesn’t take it well when it’s coming from you - the person he loves the most.

The day after the two of you fought, he expected you to be mad, but he had already prepared an apology for that.

The thing about Asmo is that he’s not afraid to apologize for something he did if he feels like he was in the wrong, unlike some of the other brothers.

Besides, the sooner he apologized, the sooner the two of you could make up. And that was his favorite part of any argument.

But, with you not speaking to him and avoiding him at all costs, how was he supposed to apologize?

Asmo only lasted one day of you ignoring him before he was at your door, tears in his eyes begging you to talk to him.

He was very dramatic with his begging, but with how dramatic Asmo usually was, it was par for the course.

If you let him in, he’ll immediately hug you, his arms wrapping around you tightly while he rests his head in the crook of your neck, crying as he apologizes as many times as it takes for you to forgive him.

He didn’t mean to say those things - he would never hurt you on purpose. It was just in the heat of the moment. He’s a very passionate guy after all.

Those are things he’ll tell you, his lips brushing against your skin as he says it, his hands sliding down just a little past what would be considered proper.

All things he knew would chip away at your walls.

He knew everything about you, especially when it came to things you liked. Things that made you cave no matter the situation.

Your resolve was shaky now and Asmo knew it, gently placing kisses on your neck and you subconsciously leaned into his touch, ever so slightly exposing more of your skin to him.

“Asmo,” you warned as he continued his kisses. You wanted to be mad at him, and you wanted to sound mad. But, your walls were crumbling under his touch and when his name left your lips, it was filled with love instead of anger.

A hint of a smile formed on his lips as he heard his name and he looked into your eyes, his eyes drawing you in even more.

“You’ll forgive me, won’t you Y/N?” he asked innocently - far too innocently for the thoughts currently running through his mind.

His lips were inches from yours and you let out a small sigh before closing the gap between the two of you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to resist him. 

You supposed you could let him off with a warning this time. After all, you were the one who snapped first.

Asmo wouldn’t hold it against you though. All that mattered was that the two of you made up.

Beel was absolutely panicking when he realized that you weren’t speaking to him and were avoiding him at all costs.

Mostly because he had no idea what he had done wrong and since you weren’t talking to him, he couldn’t even ask you.

It must have been something bad given the silent treatment. But, he couldn’t even think of something small he might have done - let alone something big enough for you to give him the silent treatment.

He thought about the last time the two of you interacted.

You were in his room with him, and he had pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

Your head was pressed against his chest as he held you close, a peaceful smile resting on his face.

He felt content and slowly but surely drifted off. 

The next thing he knew, you had moved off him in a rush, exiting his bedroom before he could get a word out and you had been avoiding him ever since.

But, you had a very different recollection of what had happened.

You were cuddling against Beel as previously stated, and you were feeling content as well. Everything just felt right when you were in his arms.

But, only a few minutes into cuddling Beel told you, “I don’t know why we’re still doing this.”

Your eyes immediately snapped open as you tried to process what Beel had just said.

“What?” you asked softly.

His hand was tangled in your hair, holding your head in place, so you couldn’t look up at him to see if he was being serious or not.

“I think this pointless,” he murmured again and your heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t really mean that, right?

“Beel,” you tried to say, but you were cut off by him continuing to speak.

“I think you should go,” he added and you decided to listen to him, pushing yourself off of him and going to your room, locking the door.

You hated that he could hold you so lovingly while he simultaneously broke up with you.

Seeing him was painful so you avoided him at all costs and you didn’t want to hear any excuse he might have so you refused to speak to him.

Beel had been doing everything he could to get your attention, but he failed at every attempt.

The lack of your presence had taken a toll on him. He had been feeling sad and lonely and he missed you more than anything.

Not to mention, he had seen you looking upset and he wanted to know what happened. He wanted to know why you were sad because he hated seeing it.

He would do anything to make you happy, he just wished you would let him help. Whatever it was - he could fix it.

He only lasted a couple of weeks without you before he decided he had to do something.

So one day when you had just gotten home from RAD, he picked you up and carried you to his room, shutting the door and blocking it with his body, despite your many protests.

He knew that his strength overpowered yours so you wouldn’t be able to push past him.

You could use the pact against him to get him to move, but he was hoping you wouldn’t resort to that - he just wanted to talk.

When you realized that Beel had you trapped you let out a sigh, sitting down on his bed. You couldn’t avoid him forever.

“What do you want, Beel?” you asked him, looking anywhere but him. And the way you said his name angrily instead of the affectionate way you used to say it hurt.

But just hearing your voice, even if you sounded mad, was like a breath of fresh air.

He moved closer to you, his big puppy dog eyes, staring at you with so much love as he tried to figure out what to say.

“You seem sad,” he told you, carefully sitting down on the bed next to you and you let out a scoff.

“Of course I’m sad,” you replied and he furrowed his eyebrows as he looked at you.

“Why?” he asked innocently and you looked at him incredulously.

When he saw the look you were giving him, he asked, “Did I do something? Is that why you won’t talk to me?”

And now your eyebrows furrowed in confusion because he wasn’t making any sense.

“You broke up with me,” you stated simply and his eyes widened as he stared at you in disbelief. He would never.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, you decided to recount the details of that day, telling him everything he said to you.

And his expression went from one of confusion to understanding as he realized what had happened.

Beel had a dream after he fell asleep cuddling you. The usual suspect - Mammon - was trying to get Beel to do something he didn’t want to do. He remembered saying all of those things to his brother in his dream - but he didn’t have any recollection of saying them out loud.

“What?” you asked as he finished talking. He was asleep?! 

A small blush coated your cheeks as you realized that you never looked at him. He kept you in place at first and then you were so upset that you walked out without sparing another glance towards him.

Beel pulled you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you the same way he did that day, holding you close to him.

“I love you so much. I would never break up with you,” he told you quietly, hoping that you would accept what he was saying as the truth.

You immediately melted into his touch as you realized it was all a big misunderstanding and your skin felt hot wherever his met yours.

Beel let out a deep breath of relief when you began to relax and he was determined to never let you go again.

The last couple of weeks had been hard on both of you and if nothing else, it was only proof as to how much you loved each other.

He just hoped that his dreams never interfered with your relationship again.

Like Satan, Belphie is one of the most stubborn when it comes to apologizing or admitting he was wrong about something.

He handles issues with the silent treatment in the hopes that they’ll either resolve themselves or simply go away.

He’s never been one for taking the initiative and he’s even less motivated to do so when it comes to an argument.

The two of you had been bickering more than usual thanks to the eldest brother.

Belphie had been slacking off a little too much at RAD in favor of napping and it was starting to affect Lucifer.

He had tried to ask Beel to help his twin brother keep up with his studies, but there was only so much that he could do.

If Belphie didn’t want to do something, then, simply put, he wasn’t going to do it - no matter who Lucifer sicced on him.

But, still, Lucifer asked you to try since you had a bond that was both very different yet equally as important as Beel’s bond to Belphie.

You didn’t want to do it - plain and simple. You knew that it would put you in a hard place with Belphie.

But, as the human exchange student, you couldn’t help but feel like part of your responsibility was to help the demon brothers.

And whether Belphie believed it or not, you were just trying to help him. You knew that if he didn’t get caught up with his studies, the punishment from Lucifer would be much worse than your nagging.

But, after a few days' worth of you waking Belphie up to beg him to do his homework, both of you were getting fed up with it.

Belphie kept complaining about how you sounded like Lucifer and you kept telling him he was acting like a brat.

It didn’t get much further than that though until one night when Belphie decided to be particularly stubborn.

You came into his room just like you had been doing, but it didn’t matter what you did, Belphie refused to get up.

You tried to reason with him, you tried to remind him of what Lucifer would do if he didn’t get up, you even tried to bribe him, but nothing worked.

You sat next to the bed for a while as you tried to figure out your last step, and then an idea popped into your head.

You hated it because you knew that Belphie would hate it, but he left you no choice.

After preparing yourself and running through your plan multiple times, you got up and looked at Belphie who was sleeping peacefully.

You let out a small sigh before leaning closer and grabbing his favorite pillow that he was lying on as well as his favorite blanket.

In an instant, you had snatched them and ran off with them, seeking refuge in your room.

You had barely gotten your door locked when you heard Belphie trying to get into your room.

“Y/N, open the door,” Belphie said, as calmly as he could, but he was already mad.

“You need to do your homework, Belphie,” you replied.

“Just give me my blanket and pillow back,” he responded.

“After you finish your homework,” you reiterated, internally sighing at the situation. You didn’t want to act like his parent and you silently cursed Lucifer for asking you to do this in the first place.

“Ugh, you’re being so annoying!” Belphie snapped, but you were expecting some backlash about this situation.

“You’ll be thanking me later when you don’t have to deal with Lucifer,” you stated and you heard him let out another frustrated sigh.

“This is exactly why I hate humans,” Belphie stated, more to himself than anything, but you heard it loud and clear.

His eyes widened slightly when you opened the door to your bedroom, a look of hurt on your face.

He opened his mouth to take it back but he was cut off by you roughly shoving the blanket and pillow into him before slamming the door in his face and locking it again.

Belphie knew that he went too far so he decided to give you some time to cool off.

The next time he saw you he promised himself he would make it up to you.

But when he saw you next, you refused to look at Belphie, let alone talk to him. And that made Belpie annoyed all over again.

“You’re being childish,” he told you, only furthering your anger towards him.

“Says the one who can’t even be responsible and do their homework without someone breathing down their neck!” you snapped back.

The two of you didn’t talk after that for a long time - too long in the brothers’ opinions.

They knew that you and Belphie were too stubborn to talk to each other on your accord, so they decided to take things into their own hands.

You were sitting on your bed reading when suddenly the door to your bedroom burst open.

You looked up to see Belphie being shoved inside against his will by Beel before he shut the door, making sure to stand guard so Belphie couldn’t leave.

Belphie had a small pout on his face that, despite still being mad at him, you thought looked adorable.

He let out a small sigh, avoiding all eye contact as he did his best to come up with a way to get out of this situation.

The two of you sat in silence for a while, but you both knew it was pointless. Neither of you were leaving until you talked to each other.

Belphie was the master at winning arguments, but just this once, he asked himself what the point of it was. He cared about you way more than winning the argument.

“You know I don’t hate you,” he said quietly, still keeping his eyes anywhere but on you as he spoke.

Your eyes immediately went to him. Was that his version of an apology?

“I was only trying to help you, Belphie,” you explained and he gave you a defeated look.

“I know,” he replied. That’s why this whole argument is pointless.

Belphie moved over to your bed now and sat down next to you, the two of you making eye contact for the first time in what felt like forever.

“I caught up on all my studies,” he added and you let out a breath of relief. At least you wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

You were the first to reach out, gently taking his hand in yours. You stared at your intertwined fingers before softly saying, “I missed you.”

His eyes widened slightly as he took in the sight of you, all feelings of the fight disappearing. He was just happy to be in your presence again.

Belphie moved quickly, wrapping you up in his arms and pulling you down into the bed.

“Bel-!” you shouted in surprise but you were cut off by him placing a finger to your lips.

You were laying chest to chest, his face only inches from yours, his arms keeping you there.

“If they hear us talking, they’ll come in; and, I’d rather not be interrupted for a while,” Belphie told you with a sly smirk before placing his lips on yours.

You immediately returned the kiss, a smile forming at the feeling.

No matter what you or Belphie said in the heat of the moment, you knew that your love for each other would never change.

[dreamyblanket]

https://www.tumblr.com/dreamyblanket/774993854186356736/humble-art-requestreader-hugging-caramel-arrow?source=share

Tbh I don't mind if you talk about her for that long because you drew her so well i hunger for more art of her so *throws another Caramel arrow x reader request at you* nyeh!

Aww thank you, have a flustered cara and rambling in the tags in return!

[ruinix]

Quinn, eating your pussy at his own pace, for hours.

Hello, lovely. I didn't expect to receive another ask for another drabble. I am not ready (actually panicked when i received this). Anyways, I may have gotten overboard with the details before what you requested. Once more asking you to put the bar down🧎🏻‍♀️because.... i'm crying 😭😭😭

TW/CW: 18+ MDNI, Smut, Lots of kisses, Oral (fem receiving...as requested), Q just wanna eat you up--🙂‍↔️🙂‍↕️

Count: 1,491 words | Masterlist

You’re a treat. A fucking delicious one. Every time Quinn looks at you, his mouth instantly waters.

He always makes sure that you’re not doing anything that could be dangerous like chopping vegetables, cooking, or hopping over the counters to reach the highest cabinets. He will never endanger you. Though, work calls, phone calls with your friends or family, watching TV, watering plants, on your way out for errands, walking around the house because of boredom…those things aren’t dangerous. Important, sure but those can wait, right? You just look so delectable. Like a treat that’s just for him.

Quinn is sane enough to be wary, yet he could barely control himself when he pulls you for a kiss, pushing you against the nearest surface—the wall adjacent to your home office. He must kiss you and taste you mixed with your flavored lip balms. It's vanilla. Fuck. His. Life.

It would always be, “Oh, Quinn. I need to answer this call.” “Quinn. Sweetheart, I’m busy.” “Quinn, I need to go out.” “Quinn, we need to finish doing the laundry.” “Quinn, I need to do the dishes.”

Right now, it's, "I'm waiting for a call, Quinn."

Bla-fucking-bla. Everything can wait.

Quinn needs you. He’s always so fucking busy with hockey—practice, media, the games. He wants to be with you and taste you whenever chance he gets. And it’s now, now, and always now. It doesn't matter if he has an optional skate that he must prepare for. It doesn't fucking matter.

So, he kisses you deeper, holding your cheeks after he turns off your phone, relishing on your taste, making sure to deepen the kiss so both of you forget when one starts and one ends.

Do you know he could still taste the gum you chewed on an hour ago? Do you know he could still taste the caramel lollipop you were sucking on just now? God, he wants to taste everything mixed with you. You’re his favorite flavor. He wants something more. By the way you’re panting and grinding against his thigh, you want it too.

He’s getting drunk on your tongue, your taste, your touch that he could barely lead you to your bed. When you two part, a string of saliva connects you. Your eyes are half-lidded, pupils blown. Your lips are red and swollen. Your hair is fanned out beneath you like a halo. He nearly shudders when your hands find his cheeks.

“Can I?” he asks, while your thumb traces along his lower lip.

“Yes,” you would reply without hesitation, already knowing what he’s craving.

That’s all he needs. He’s kissing you again. Your lips. Your chin. Your cheek. Your jaw. Your earlobe. Your neck, taking his time to suck the fading kiss marks. Your collarbones. He almost tears your shirt open—too many buttons, fuck he just wants to touch you—but he knows better. For every inch of skin he exposes, he kisses and licks.

So divine. You smell like him. Fuck, you used his body wash again.

This is unfair. He feels like he’s losing and falling into your trap. Quinn wants that though. He wants to be trapped with you and nothing else. He wants it so fucking badly.

He could feel your silent chuckle, could feel the scrape of your nails on his scalp. You’re laughing at him, so he pulled down your bra. His lips find your nipple. He sucks, turning your laughter into tiny gasps. That’s it. He can’t have you laugh at him. Not right now.

He takes his time teasing your pretty nipples, licking and sucking your breasts’ undersides from time to time. Relishing his smell on you. His sweet treat. You make him so fucking hard. He knows he’s leaking—pre-cum staining his gray sweatpants—for you. All for you.

Your whines and pleas only make him want to tease you more. Your hips keep pushing up, thighs squeezing around his torso. Your hands that were busy tugging at his hair are now pushing down on his shoulder. You need more. Quinn knows that, but the taste of sweat on your skin is making him hold onto you tighter, making him lick every bead of your skin. Just a few more taste of your skin.

You’re trembling now. The first time you tremble when he touched you, he panicked. But now, he understands your body like the back of his hand. It’s your anticipation, isn’t it? You want all his marks. You want him. You need him. He understands that. Oh, so well, because he feels the same.

“I love you,” he murmurs into your skin, his eyes flicking to yours.

Your cheeks are flushed as you bite your lips. Your eyes shine with tears. Your eyebrows drawn together. Sweat drips down from your temple. “I love you,” you whisper.

Quinn swore his heart skips a beat. His stomach flips. Hearing those three words always makes him fall for you harder.

He almost drops this, like he could just appease his craving by kissing you. He could be satisfied with that. However, the moment his fingers slip over your panties, feeling how soaked you are, he can’t just stop. He yearns for your pussy. So, he continues. He goes down and down and down, hands expertly removing your skirt—which looked heavenly on you, by the way.

Now you’re just left with nothing. Totally bare. You look so majestic. All spread out for him. He sees your quivering hole, your arousal oozes, almost dripping.  What a sight. A delicious sight.

Quinn just dives for it, tongue licking from entrance to clit, making you mewl. He can’t stop the moan that escapes him. You taste so divine. His favorite aphrodisiac. His elixir.

Lick after lick, he revels in your taste. Your arousal coats every swipe of his tongue. It’s making his head spin, his cock aching. Yet he’s only tasting. Just tasting. Nothing more. Nothing yet. He has time. He has to savor this.

Fuck, he’s so hard. So fucking hard that when he dipped his tongue in your quivering hole, he almost comes as your wall tightens. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He could feel it through his cock. It’s always like this. It’s like you’re fucking him when he only has his tongue in you.

Your taste. Your smell. Your wetness. Quinn needs all of it.

He grips the back of your thighs, making you rest them over his shoulders, as he feasts on your pussy, hips rutting into the bed. Everything feels so good for him. The feel of your thighs squeezing his head, threatening to asphyxiate him on nothing but your pussy. That's one way to die, isn't it? Quinn doesn't have any complaints. As long as he's tasting you. As long as your pussy clenches around his tongue. He could just die like that.

When his nose grazes your clit, he feels your pussy throb, squeezing so tightly. Yes. Fuck yes. You’re cumming around his tongue, your thighs quivering, your hands ruthlessly tugging on his hair, your hips grinding on his face. Quinn firmly held you, slurping and sucking your cum. Tastes so fucking good. He holds your hips down. He doubles his efforts, devouring everything you have given him.

“Quinn,” you pant, trying to push him off. “'m sensitive.”

He knows. He fucking knows. He shamelessly doesn’t care. More. He needs more. You can give him more.

Your curses for him to slow down stutters when he sucks around your clit, his fingers replacing his tongue. He could feel your surrender as you grind against him, back arching when he hooks his fingers to your sweet spot. Your whines get louder. So much louder because you’re coming again and Quinn is already there, tongue deep inside your pussy, taking everything. So exquisite.

He takes and takes until you come down from your high, panting and quivering, but Quinn still wants more. He fucking needs it. He wants your taste to last until the next day. He wants to feel you come again and again around his tongue. It’s not fucking enough.

“Quinn,” you say in a broken plea.

“One more, baby,” is all he says. “One more.”

You answer with a whimper, head nodding.

You both know he’s a liar.

It’s never ‘one more’. Never even when he gets you to come twice more. Even when he comes in his pants—cum making the gray dark which only makes him more feral. Even when you get overstimulated as well as his dribbling cock. Even when his phone rings for that fucking optional skate. Even when you two are dripping with sweat. Even when exhaustion takes hold of you.

He would just slow down, but never part from you like your pussy is the only thing keeping him alive. It fucking is.

Quinn would eat you out for hours. He could do it for days, but you would always slap him off you after two hours. But today, he’ll go for three.