you wake up in a hospital room at ptmc and you have no idea how you got there or why. but when your night shift attending comes bursting in the room all frazzled and worried, things get even more confusing. especially when he's saying he's your husband.
genre: jack abbot x nurse!reader, lover to stranger to ??? it's amnesia!!, 18+ eventual smut, multi-part
word count: 1080
part 2
(a/n: ANOTHER ONE. yeah i'm sorry. i'm honestly kinda sad and all i do during is write so that's why we have this. this one will be told in chapter by chapter updates :) of course, comment if you'd like to be tagged!! thanks for being so kind you guys!!)
The first thing you become aware of is the ceiling. A small water stain in the upper left corner that everyone has been threatening admin to fix since you’ve worked here.
You know that water stain. Become best friends with it. You know it the way you know a mole on your own arm or the creak of your third porch step, automatically, without having to think about it. Which is interesting, because thinking is currently not going well for you.
You run a quick internal inventory. Extremities present and accounted for, mild headache, various beeping that you've long since learned to parse like a second language. Cardiac monitor. Pulse ox. Nothing unusually alarming.
What's is though is that you're on the other side of the bed rail.
You turn your head slowly and confirm what you already suspected. PTMC. Room 214, which you know because the 2 is slightly crooked and has been since someone wheeled a crash cart into it. You're a nurse here and you have been for two years.
This feels like it should be more distressing than it currently is, but your brain is doing that calm, very dissociated thing it sometimes does when a situation is too strange to fully process.
Someone has put those non slip socks on your feet and combed your hair, or at least made an attempt at it. There's a cup of water on the rolling table beside you with a bendy straw, which is either very thoughtful or a bad sign about your current motor skills, and you're not sure which.
You're still taking stock of all of this when the door bangs open.
You look up on instinct, and first thing you notice is the face of Dr. Jack Abbot, and the second thing you notice is that he looks like he is about to come apart at the seams.
Tall, broad shouldered, and a jaw that makes nursing students trip over things. Perpetually tired eyes. Calm but can get intense very quickly, usually in the direction of whatever unlucky med student has just made an error in his trauma bay.
Closed off. That's always been the word for him. Not unkind, exactly. Just unopen to the world.
The man currently frozen in your doorway does not look closed off. He looks like someone has reached into his chest and rearranged everything in there without warning.
He's staring at you like you are the most important thing he has ever seen.
It's a lot.
"Hi?" you say, because someone has to.
Something moves across his face, relief you think. He crosses the room in four strides and then, without pausing, without asking, without any of the hesitation you might expect from a man who barely acknowledges your existence in the hallway, he cups your face in both hands and presses his lips to your forehead. Firm and certain and unbearably gentle, like it's something he's done a thousand times. Like it's the first thing he always does.
He stays there for a moment. You can feel him exhale.
You are not sure you are capable of moving. Everything in your brain has stopped whatever it was doing to attend to this particular situation, which is, Dr. Abbot, who has never once in two years offered you anything warmer than a curt nod in a hallway, is holding your face like you are something precious.
Like you are his.
He pulls back. His hands drop to the bed rail, looks at you and then pulls the chair from the corner without looking at it, a move so automatic it implies he's sat in it before. Recently, many times.
"You're awake." he says. His voice is rough.
"I.." you start, and stop. Your nervous fidgeting has you palm grazing over something hard on your hand. Your left one specifically, a ring. Simple, gold, one you might have picked out yourself if someone had asked you.
All you could do was stare at it.
Jack is watching you carefully.
"Do you know why I'm here?" you ask. You're still looking at the ring. It takes effort to look up.
"You were in an accident." He doesn't move. "This morning, a semi ran a red light."
"Oh." you say. And then, "I was driving in for a shift."
"Yes."
"And now I'm a patient."
He just nods.
You look at him for a moment, then back down at your hand. "You kissed my forehead.."
"I did." You can see him bracing for it. Tensing up for whatever might come next.
"You've never..I mean, we don't.." You stop, trying to gather the thoughts swirling around your pounding head. "Why?"
His eyes soften a bit. Shoulders sagging. "What do you remember?" he asks quietly. "About this morning. And generally."
"About the accident, nothing." you say slowly. "Generally? I'm a nurse. I've worked here two years. It's just past noon on a Tuesday and I'm supposed to be on shift, which I'm guessing is no longer happening." You close your eyes. "I remember that you're the night shift senior attending and that you have never once said hello to anyone without being prompted, and that one time during my first year here, you made a resident cry.”
The ghost of smile crosses his mouth. The corners tipping up just slightly.
"What year do you think it is?" he asks.
You frown. "It's.." and you stop.
You stop because the monitor says one thing and your brain says another, and those two things are not the same, and the gap between them is approximately five years wide.
You look at the ring and you look at his hands, resting on the bed rail. On his left hand, there is a ring. Same finger as yours.
"Oh." you say. It comes out very small. "We're.."
"Married." he says. "Three years."
So maybe you've been a nurse here for longer than you thought.
The cardiac monitor ticks up, just slightly. Enough that you both notice. Enough that he reaches out, almost involuntarily, toward your hand and then stops. His fingers hover an inch from yours, like he's remembered, mid motion, that he doesn't have permission for that anymore. That he has to ask now.
“I think I’m going to need a bigger cup of water.” You say as your throat feels like it’s about to close up and the first tears begin to well.
‧₊ ˚⊹ fratjo calls you while nerdjo is eating your pussy…? 18+
note nerdjo = satoru, fratjo = satoshi (name borrowed from @/sweethearticism, but it’s not the same character! this fratjo is less of a frat boy cuz idrk about frats like that i'm british he's moreso just an outgoing party guy :3 also not proofread sorry guyz
cw oral f receiving, nerdjo is a cocky pos and fratjo begs u to take him back
your sheets rustle underneath you as you squirm underneath satoru’s touch. it’s quiet apart from his low, steady breathing and your rough panting. it’s always a little surreal seeing him like this; his thick, black-rimmed glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose as he takes his time with you. to the rest of the people on your course, satoru gojo is the ridiculously intelligent guy who sits in the front rows of the lecture hall and would rather spend his friday nights knee-deep in theoretical physics than going clubbing. but, behind closed doors, he eats your pussy like he solves problems—meticulously and with utmost care.
he shifts between your bare legs, placing open-mouthed kisses to your inner thighs, making your shiver.
“comfortable?” he murmurs, his voice low.
before you can even begin to answer, he leans down and licks a warm, wet strip up your entire puffy cunt. his tongue works over you slowly, heavy and drenched in your wetness. he laps at your clit with broad strokes before swirling his tongue around your sensitive entrance, drawing out needy whines from your lips.
suddenly, your phone bursts to life on the nightstand, its harsh vibrations buzzing against the wood, bright light illuminating the dim room. your entire body stiffens, hands flying to satoru’s snowy locks to pull him off you as he lets out a low, dissatisfied groan, reluctantly lifting his head. his normally bright blue eyes are now darkened with desire, lips slick and gleaming with your sticky arousal.
you grab your phone from the side, but when you look at the screen, you freeze.
satoshi.
satoru’s identical twin and your ex-situationship. satoshi gojo was six foot something of pure sex appeal and cheesy pickup lines. every girl and guy on campus has had some kind of flirty encounter with him. he crawls pubs and hops clubs with that infuriatingly pretty smile of his. for some reason, he had taken it upon himself to try to win your affections, but in the end, he just treated you like a temporary distraction. the first few times you met up, he had taken you out on cheap dates (they were kinda cute, though), then it eventually turned into him basically using you for quick sex. you couldn't complain at the time (he was a good fuck, after all), but after a while you grew tired of the lack of care. the guy never even ate you out, for fuck’s sake.
you show the screen to satoru as he leans up slightly, resting his cheek on your thigh, reading the name on your phone. a possessive smirk spreads across his face. he knows exactly what his brother did to you, how he treated you. after all, satoru was the one who you ran to in tears when you broke it off with his twin. the two of you had been friends since first year after having met at a quantum mechanics drop-in session. having sex with satoru just seemed to come naturally after you basically swore to never involve yourself with his brother again.
“answer it,” satoru practically purrs, his raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine.
“satoru, no—”
“asnwer it,” he commands, eyes flashing with a cold, competitive glint. “put it on speaker.”
you barely have time to process his movements before he's reaching up, tapping the green icon himself. he hits speaker and sets the phone flat on your clothed chest.
“hey…” satoshi’s voice comes through the speaker. it’s not in his usual, arrogant manner, but rather… hesitant. he also sounds completely sober, something so out-of-the-blue that it almost makes your head spin with confusion. “look… i know you probably don't want to talk to me, but i’ve been sitting in my car for an hour thinking about how i left things between us”
you roll your eyes to nobody in particular and open your mouth to respond, but before you can utter a single word, satoru sinks his head down back between your legs. he doesn't ease back into it, immediately plunging his tongue deep inside your soaking walls, dragging it back upwards and out, then taking your clit directly between his lips and sucking gently.
a sharp gasp gets caught in your throat and you try to swallow it down as best as you can. your back arches off the mattress, knuckles turning white as you dig your fingers into the bedsheets.
“i really fucked up,” satoshi continues over the phone, blissfully ignorant to the way his twin brother is currently burying his face into your soaking wet cunt. “i treated you badly. i miss the sex, yeah, but…” you can hear him take a deep, almost shaky breath. “i miss you. i want to make it up to you. let me take you out sometime. please?”
you want to respond, you really do. maybe tell him something about how he lost his chance a while ago. but it’s hard to do that whilst satoru’s tongue is relentless against you, flattening against your throbbing clit as two long fingers reach up to spread your lips wider, opening you up completely to his mouth. the wet, rhythmic squelching sounds of him eating your pussy fill the entire room. you clamp a hand over your mouth as tears of overwhelming pleasure prick the corners of your eyes.
satoru glances up at you through his white lashes, his eyes full of sadistic triumph as he deliberately flicks his tongue in fast, punishing circles right against your sensitive bud. you can't help the grunt that escapes you.
“are you there?” satoshi asks. you havent spoken a word to him this entire time. “what’s that sound? you good?”
swallowing hard, your whole body trembles as you force your hand away from your mouth.
“i’m—” your breath hitches. a loud, breath moan almost spills out as satoru gives your clit a hard suck. you dig your nails into your palm to ground yourself. “i’m—ahh—doing… yoga.” the words are bitter on your tongue, but your mind is foggy with the feeling of satoru going down on you, so you really could not care less about the shitty lie.
“yoga?” he echoes on the phone, sounding bewildered. “at midnight?”
“yeah,” you choke out, hips twitching involuntarily as satoru slides two fingers inside your dripping heat, curling them into you in time with his tongue on your clit. you’re writhing underneath him, completely out of your mind as he eats like a man starved. “i’m doing some—ngh—intense stretching. i’m really— fuck— sore.”
“oh. right,” satoshi sighs. “look, just… just think about what i said. give me another chance to make it right.”
satoru’s eyes darken at his brother’s words. pulling his fingers out with a lewd shlick, he replaces them with a greedy pump of his tongue that hits your walls so perfectly that you buck up into his mouth, a stifled sob escaping your lips.
“i have to go, satoshi,” you rasp out, barely able to form coherent sentences as his twin’s mouth works faster against you, driving you straight towards release at a dangerously fast rate. “i’m right in the middle of a hard pose.”
“wait— don’t go, please!” his voice crackles through the speaker, frantic and breathless. “i’m really, really sorry. just give me five minutes to explain. let me make it up to you, please—”
his apologies fade to static in your ears because satoru has clearly reached his breaking point. hearing his brother beg for your forgiveness sent him over the edge. the pads of his fingers grip your plush thighs, dragging you infinitely closer to his mouth as he goes all in, delving into your core with punishing speed. he’s stopped playing around, stopped teasing you. his tongue works you undone, licking straight up your honeyed folds as two long fingers graze the rough spot inside your velvety walls that make you flutter around him.
“oh god— s-satoru—” you gasp, but it’s already too late.
the bliss hits you like a steam train as you snap, body curling up off the bed as your core clamps and gushes around his fingers, limbs convulsing in pleasure. as much as you try, you can’t stop it or hold yourself back; the orgasm tears through your body with full force. an unrestrained, high-pitched moan rips straight from the back of your throat, echoing loudly through your small bedroom as your thighs tremble violently around satoru’s head. and he doesn't stop, either. he drinks every single drop of your release, completely unfazed at the fact that his brother was on the other end of your phone.
silence falls over the entire room for three agonisingly long seconds.
“oh my god,” satoshi whispers, voice dripping with utter disbelief. “did you… did you just fucking cum?”
your eyes fly open, panic instantly replacing the sweet afterglow. scrambling to sit up, you grab your phone from your chest with shaky hands.
“what? no!” you squeak out, voice way too high, desperately trying to catch your breath whilst satoru sits back on his heels, smirking as he wipes his wet chin with the back of his hand. “no! why would you— why would you even think that?! i told you, i’m just doing a hard pose!”
“are you fucking kidding me?” satoshi barks out. a rancorous laugh erupts from his chest. “we had sex enough times for me to know exactly what you sound like when you have an orgasm. you just came!”
“fuck…” you mutter under your breath, dragging a hand down the side of your face.
“who are you with?” his voice turned sharp, spiteful.
frozen, you can’t answer. you’re just sitting there in your bed, warm and tingly and half naked, completely and utterly speechless. the silence stretches out for a beat too long, suffocating and heavy.
“who the fuck are you with?!” satoshi is almost yelling now, his composure completely shattering.
but you still don't answer. how can you? how can you tell him that you've been fucking his very own twin brother for the past two weeks after he just begged you to take him back?
slowly, satoru leans forward, his crystalline eyes locking onto yours. he reaches out his hands, silently demanding the phone. panic surging through your veins, you frantically shake your head at him as you try to pull the phone back. but he just chuckles, completely ignoring your silent pleas.
he plucks the phone out of your trembling hands with ease. pushing his glasses back up his nose, he brings the phone up to himself and speaks into the mic with a cool, mocking tone.
Warnings/Tags: Profanity, Oblivious idiots in love, Cutesy, Fluff, Paige is a boobs girl, Suggestive language (if you squint)
A/N: Just a short and sweet oneshot! It's 80% dialogue, 5% plot, and 15% Paige being flustered lol it's a very dif style from my other fics 🫶
(Mild trigger warning: Ar*ke’s mentioned in the fic…I’M SORRY! I just wanted to make a joke with a name, and hers unfortunately fit best 💔)
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Paige was an excellent vet. Veteran homotron, that is. She's been insanely down bad for her new rookie and has gotten tangled up in the most awkward scenario ever.
Tangled up, as in, chose to run in headfirst because a 'distressed' Azzi Fudd had been involved.
But Azzi's not all that innocent either.
Really stupid but cute 🎀
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
“Hello?”
“Hey, Paige. Can you come help me?”
“Yeah, what’s up, Az?” Paige pinched her phone between her cheek and shoulder as she finished pulling her nightshirt over her arms, reaching for the bottoms she’d laid out on her bed.
“I…can you just come to mine?”
Paige paused, only one leg in her shorts. She watched a droplet of water fall from her damp hair and disappear into her sheets. “What- are you okay? Did something happen?”
“No, no! Or, I mean, yes, kinda…? Paige, can you just- can you come over?”
This only made Paige even more confused, who pinched the bridge of her nose.
“It’s late, though, Az.”
“Paige, I’m tired too. It’s nothing like- nothing like that-”
Paige was already in the process of locating her keys, but Azzi’s tone made her frown. “What?”
“Like, you know-”
Paige most certainly did not know. Hence why she then asked, “Like what? Is it, like, an emergency?”
Azzi scoffed, her voice crackling in the receiver, “Ugh, never mind- no, no, it’s not. I’m fine. Just get your ass over here!”
She added, in a quieter tone, “Please, Paige?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Paige chuckled into her phone, finally finding her keys, then shoved them into her pocket and chucked on some shoes. “You’re so weird, bruh. D’you want me to stay on the phone?”
She didn’t get an answer back as she tied her shoelaces, phone pinched against her cheek again, but just as she finished the second knot, she heard what sounded like a faint sniffle that made her pause.
“Az, are you crying!? Az, stop. Are you okay, f’real?”
“No, I'm not crying! I'm just stuffy. And yes, sorry, I’m fine. I just- I need you.”
Paige inhaled sharply as she locked her apartment door. She really hoped Azzi couldn't hear it on her end. She moved her phone away from her ear, muting herself for good measure, as she let out a deep sigh. Enough.
She unmuted the call, bringing it back to her ear as she started the trek up to Azzi’s apartment. She just had to live on the 18th floor of a complex whose elevator never worked. For whatever reason.
“You promise you’re okay?” Paige pushed open the annoyingly heavy door to the staircase, letting out a little grunt as she did so.
She let the call remain silent for two flights of stairs before prodding, “...Azzi?”
“Yes, I’m fine, seriously. Don’t worry.”
“But something’s clearly wrong-”
“It’s nothing serious, sorry. I should’ve said that earlier.”
Paige paused, legs split between stairs. “Ugh, then why’re you making me come up there?” She turned around, flapping one arm at her side as if Azzi could see it. “Dawg, I’m going to bed-”
“No, come on, Paige. Will you just come?” Her voice came out exasperated, and Paige swallowed.
“Can’t you call, like, Lan, or someone? Someone who lives on your floor and not the twelfth, bro?”
“I don’t want Lan. I want you, P.”
Paige’s heart stuttered, and she found herself already turning around to head back up. Stop it, you softie. You know she doesn’t mean it like that.
“Whatever. I’ll be there in a few.” She started taking the steps two at a time.
“Thank you. You’re so fucking stubborn.”
“Am not-”
“Am too.”
⋆*・ﾟ:⋆*・ﾟ
Azzi stood in the doorway of her apartment, wrapped in what seemed to be…nothing but Paige’s oversized jacket she’d let her borrow earlier that night.
Fucking hell-
“Why do you have- don’t tell me you’re naked,” Paige’s gaze traced her bare legs peeking out from under the jacket before shooting back up to her face.
Paige grimaced for a very…specific reason. You see, she’d been enamoured by her rookie. Absolutely taken. Ever since the moment she’d set foot in Dallas, really.
She knew it was inappropriate to admire Azzi in this way, but she just couldn’t seem to help herself.
It was intoxicating - what Paige liked to believe was their little game of ‘push and pull’, where neither would admit anything, but both would let their gazes linger for too long, fingers unnecessarily brush each other's too often, and texts run a little too late into the night.
But if she was reading it wrong, she didn’t want to be corrected. She had only confided in Arike, on the team, who’d confidently told her that Azzi was most definitely reciprocating (despite the slightly concerning age gap). But Paige was in over her head about the whole thing and was not about to make a move on her rookie based on that alone.
On the off chance that Arike was wrong, Paige didn’t know what she’d do with herself, both on and off the court. She was supposed to be Azzi's vet, for god's sake.
She’d scoffed, initially, at Curt asking her to wear pink to the opening presser, and had thrown on a half-assed fit that definitely didn’t work, but quickly regretted her decision after catching sight of the rookie.
Was it true that she was a slightly irresponsible vet for not even watching the draft or doing any research on Azzi Fudd? Yes.
Was it also true that she'd done a thorough deep dive on everything Azzi Fudd, though, right after the press conference? Yes.
And was it also true that she’d been thinking thoughts she definitely shouldn’t have been about her rookie, Azzi Fudd, earlier at the bar? Yes x3.
So she’d done the very responsible thing that very responsible vets like herself would do for their very gorgeous rookie that they have a very platonic relationship with: Insist on giving them your jacket when they offhandedly mention they’re cold as you walk out together, and not only order their Uber home, but ride with them all the way back.
“I’m not- chill.” Azzi’s words brought Paige back to reality, in which she was gaping at the half-naked figure of Azzi Fudd shrinking in her doorway. She quickly schooled her expression, or at least attempted to, as Azzi continued, “Will you come in, please? I don’t want anyone seeing-”
“Oh, shit, yeah- me neither.” Paige reddened at the insinuation of what’d just tumbled out of her mouth and sheepishly took a step inside.
But Azzi didn’t seem to realize, or care, as she simply cleared her throat and walked around Paige to close the door.
Paige spoke again, too quickly, overcompensating for her slip-up. “So, like, what happened? What’s wrong?”
Azzi sighed, pulling the jacket tighter around her neck. Paige did not notice that the action revealed even more of Azzi’s smooth, caramel thighs from under the hem-
“It’s, um...itsmytop.”
“I’m sorry, what?” Paige leaned in, turning her head slightly.
“It’s…my top.”
It’s…me? Haha, just kidding. Or not. Maybe someday.
“Well, you look pretty good under that top.” Okay. Um-
Azzi scrunched her face, letting out a small laugh which honestly might’ve just been out of pity. Her grip visibly tightened on the jacket as she abruptly turned and walked away.
“Wait, Az- I didn’t mean-”
“I know you didn’t mean- just come here, Paige!” Azzi called from another room.
Paige shook her head, much like a dog clearing its ears of water, before tossing her phone and keys onto Azzi’s couch and following her inside.
She wasn’t staying over or anything…so this wasn’t inappropriate.
Paige’s stomach flipped as she rounded the corner of the bathroom, though, and she immediately clapped a hand over her eyes.
Paige was struggling. Struggling immensely. It was taking all her willpower not to stare straight at Azzi’s cleavage. Even through the tiny gaps between her fingers.
She was simply at a loss for words.
Azzi had shed the leather jacket she'd worn earlier at the bar, as well as Paige’s jacket, and beside the pile of clothes on the bathroom floor was…her skirt.
Her breasts were being pushed up by…Paige couldn’t tell if it was a push-up bra or a bralette, but regardless, Azzi looked good.
They were sitting atop her tank, practically spilling out of her top that did nothing to cover her modesty.
To make matters worse, Azzi’s legs were on full display now, covered by nothing but a silk thong.
Is she trying to kill me!?
Paige turned her head, taking a deep breath as she focused her vision between two fingers on the barely-visible kitchen counter. “Azzi- I can’t- this is so-”
“Paige, it’s stuck.”
Fuck me.
“Literally, please.”
“What?” Azzi squinted her eyes at her, Paige catching the action in her periphery.
FUCK.
“Sorry, sorry, nothing-” She drew in a sharp breath again, clenching her jaw. “What’s stuck, Az?”
“My top, Paige. I just said that.”
“Why’re you in a thong, Az-”
“I have a top on!”
Paige must be the worst person on Earth. She had to be. Why else must she face a half-naked Azzi Fudd, the woman she is absolutely infatuated with, who she's 50% sure doesn’t reciprocate her feelings for her?
She squeezed her eyes shut despite her hand remaining over her eyes and her head being turned away from the scene.
“Sure, but you don’t have a bottom on-”
“Cuz it's what’s stuck, Paige.”
“What’s stuck?”
“My thong.”
“On…?”
“My top. It’s, like, knotted together, or something.”
Paige sighed, loud enough that she heard Azzi immediately scoff at her. She curled her fingertips into her face, letting out a laugh at the absurdity of the situation. “Seriously, why didn’t you ask Lan or someone to help you? I don’t know anything about, like, thongs-”
“I told you already. I wanted you, Paige.”
Paige ignored the feeling in her stomach at these words. See? She was a responsible vet. “But why? I’m- I’m your vet, Azzi. I can’t- we can’t-”
She heard Azzi scoff again. “Oh, now that matters? You’re so- ugh.”
Paige turned her head at this, dropping her hand before immediately closing her eyes again, her cheeks reddening at the glimpse she caught. “Oops- um, what? What does that mean?”
“Never mind that.”
“Oh my god, just tell me-”
“No.”
“Azzi, you’re standing like, five feet away from me. Naked. You can tell me whatever, bro. We’re gonna be, like, trauma-bonded for life after this.”
Paige didn’t know if she’d gone too far with the joke, as Azzi fell silent, and she was just about to open her eyes and start defending herself when Azzi spoke up.
“I’m more comfortable around you.” The words came out mumbled, almost unintelligible.
Well, fuck. Paige didn’t know what to do with that information. Maybe she was just an incredibly welcoming vet that rookies felt comfortable around. Yes, that was it. If the singular rookie’s name was Azzi Fudd, whom she also happened to have a big fat crush on.
“Okay, um, okay. I’m honoured. What d’you mean it’s tangled with your top, though? Like, is it stuck on the lace?”
“No, it’s much worse than- Paige, can you just look? I’m not gonna, like, report you or anything. And you’re gonna need to look if you’re gonna help me, anyway.”
Well, she did make a good point.
Paige squeezed her eyes shut a little tighter before blinking them open, squinting as they adjusted to the harsh lighting of the bathroom.
Pain. That’s what Paige felt as her eyes raked over Azzi’s body. Pain that she was in this position. Pain that she was literally her vet. Pain that she kinda didn’t give a fuck and was getting turned on-
She narrowed her gaze on the hem of Azzi’s top, not daring to look any higher or lower as she took another steadying breath.
The left band of Azzi's thong was tangled in what could only be described as a jumble of intricate knots with the hem of her top.
Bewildered. That was another good word to describe how Paige felt. She was absolutely bewildered that Azzi’s thong had gotten stuck in such a way, because it looked knotted beyond belief, with the…hem of her top? Like, how?
“How the hell did that happen?” She looked up into Azzi’s eyes, who seemed embarrassed, with her brows knit together over the light dusting of pink that now covered her cheeks.
“Uh, I don’t know-”
Paige dragged her gaze a little lower, back onto…her cleavage. Homotron couldn’t help herself. Fork found in kitchen.
My god, though, was Azzi’s cleavage popping. Paige had only briefly caught a glimpse before, but she just couldn’t take her eyes off it as she started rambling.
“What are you wearing? Why are your boobs out? Fucking hell-”
“They’ve been out, Paige! The whole night! You didn’t- you didn’t see?”
“I was- your jacket was zipped up! How was I supposed to notice?” She threw her hands up to emphasize her point.
“You actually didn’t see!? It was only, like, half-zipped! My boobs were literally hanging out, Paige!”
“I- I wasn’t looking at-” Lies. She totally was looking at. The whole night.
All Paige knew was that they’d just enjoyed a night out with the team at a bar, and Paige had been none the wiser that Azzi had on such…articles of clothing…underneath her really short miniskirt and really sexy leather jacket. Until now.
She paused her stuttering, taking in Azzi’s gorgeous, flushed features, who looked down at the ground.
“Whatever, Paige. Can you just- can you help me?”
Azzi sounded so defeated that Paige suddenly felt guilty for arguing over such a dumb thing. What did it matter that she may or may not have been staring at Azzi’s cleavage the entire night? The rookie had a problem, and she’d called her vet to solve it. Right. That was it.
She tentatively stepped forward, pausing when Azzi looked up at her with her doe-ass eyes- oh my lord-
Paige blinked and dropped her gaze to Azzi’s top, which she realized her hand was already grasping the hem of. Oh shit-
“I- wait, sorry-” She took a step back, yanking her hand back as if physically burned. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Can I- is it okay if I…?”
Holy fucking stutter.
“Huh? You’re not gonna, like, fuckin’ grope me or something, are you?” Azzi laughed, her voice dripping with incredulity that made Paige’s insides twist in embarrassment. “The hell kinda question is that? Yes, I literally called you. Now come help me.”
Paige’s face burned as she chewed the insides of her cheeks, keeping her gaze on the knot as she fidgeted with her fingers at her sides.
“Right- I, uh, right. Sorry. Lemme-” She stepped forward again, grabbing the hem of her top gingerly this time.
She leaned down and worked carefully at the knot, taking care not to even brush Azzi’s skin with her fingertips by pulling the hem away from Azzi’s hip. She could feel Azzi’s breathing, in rhythm with her own, as Azzi leaned forward a bit. The action caused her cleavage to be pushed into Paige’s face, too, but Paige was choosing to pay it no mind as her fingers continued to work skillfully through the knot. She had to scold herself, internally, at her gaze lowering a few times onto her legs, though. Paige wasn’t perfect, now, come on. At the end of the day, she was just a girl. A girl with the stunning Azzi Fudd in front of her.
The more time that went on, however, the more frustrated Paige became, as there just seemed to be an infinite number of knots that only kept revealing themselves when she finally managed to undo a few.
“How- bro, how the fuck did this even happen?” She said through gritted teeth. “There’s like fifty million knots, what the hell? The inside of your skirt did this?”
When she was met with silence, Paige glanced up to see Azzi’s wide eyes locked on hers, eyelashes fluttering as she blinked twice. If Paige didn’t know any better, it seemed like Azzi was flustered, or something.
“I dunno, it’s so weird. Like-” She looked down, grabbing hold of the giant knot herself. “They’re so tight.”
But now there was another problem. Not only were Azzi’s long, muscular legs on full display and her boobs shoved in Paige’s face, but Azzi’s warm hands were now covering Paige’s. And Paige was losing her mind under her soft touch.
“Yeah, uh- warm.” Paige squeezed her eyes shut, grimacing.
Azzi’s eyebrows knit together. “Warm?”
“I- uh-”
And Paige really couldn’t find her words anymore because Azzi’s hands had moved up her fingers and slid onto her forearm, where their warmth started to seep through her nightshirt. She could feel goosebumps erupting under her touch, and, suddenly worried Azzi could feel this through the thin material, she yanked her arms away for the second time.
“What the- why’re you so jumpy today!?” Azzi held her hands up in surrender, looking even more defeated. “Can you please just help me, Paige? I’m tired and sore and I wanna go to bed. Please.”
Paige let out a long exhale, drawing her shoulders up before releasing them. Azzi was right. She needed her help.
She stepped forward into her space again, grabbing the bundle of knots. “Yeah, I know. My bad, princess.”
“I like it when you call me that.”
What!?
“Uh-”
“I mean, like, just cuz of the People’s Princess nickname, of course. Not any other reason-”
“Mm,” Paige grumbled out in lieu of a true response, biting her tongue between her teeth as she managed to undo another knot.
“Your skirt and jacket? I mean, I liked your outfit. They work well together. You looked-”
“Jesus Christ, Paige! Not my jacket- my matching set!”
OH.
Paige allowed her gaze to drop to Azzi’s lacy bra, tracing each delicate inch of mesh that was visible over her top, covering basically nothing but her nipples, before it jumped down to her thong. They were matching.
…but now Paige had been staring in silence for a solid minute.
“Oh, uh, do I like it…? Yeah. They look- yeah.”
“Paige.”
Paige looked up again and was met with an unreadable expression. Azzi’s head was tilted to the side, and she looked rather amused, a thin smile stretching her lips. Her hands were now planted on her hips as she shifted her weight onto one leg, pulling Paige’s hands along with her top.
And, fuck, Azzi’s hand positioning was not doing Paige any favors because it only accentuated her muscles, her toned upper body now being showcased right in front of Paige.
I wanna lick- nope-
“Paige,” Azzi repeated in the captivating way she always said her name, taking a step forward.
Paige almost instinctively stepped back, but her mouth fell open as she straightened up and looked down at Azzi, staying rooted to her spot. Her gaze darted between Azzi’s gorgeous brown, hooded eyes, to her plump, pink lips, down to her cleavage…
And then they were kissing. Paige had no idea how they got there. No idea who initiated what. No idea who leaned in first. But she didn’t care. What she did know was that one of Azzi’s hands was gripping her jaw, and her other hand was secured tightly around her neck.
Holy shit-
Her lips felt warm, oh so warm, slotted against Paige’s, who finally realized she could move, and that she could touch, and that she wanted to.
She let go of the godforsaken knots at the hem of Azzi’s top, choosing instead to slide one hand up to her waist, giving her a gentle squeeze through her tank. Her other hand found purchase on the small of Azzi’s back, and she pulled her in until Azzi’s chest was flush with her own. The feeling was euphoric, Azzi’s breasts melding with her own while they explored each other's mouths. Everything she’d imagined and more.
“Mmm-” She whimpered against Azzi’s lips. Actually whimpered. Letting out a pathetic little whine that made Azzi smile, who gently pulled away.
Paige’s eyes fluttered open to what was the most stunning view she had ever seen. No doubt.
A flushed, giggly Azzi Fudd, who delicately ran her thumb across Paige’s lip, her focus narrowed in on Paige’s mouth.
She felt herself grin stupidly down at Azzi as she laughed too. Azzi’s thumb slipped off her lip as Paige’s face shook with the action.
Paige gained some sense and drew her head back a little further, saying in a serious tone, “You’re not drunk, are you?”
Azzi frowned at this, pursing her lips (very cutely). “Do I seem drunk?”
“Uh-”
What was the right answer? Yes, you seem drunk, but in a tipsy, like, fun way? No, what the fuck-
“No. No, you don’t, princess. Sorry-”
Azzi silenced her with a chaste kiss to her lips, shaking her head with a laugh. “Good, cuz I’m not. You literally ordered me mocktails at the bar, remember? You’re so stupid, P.”
Paige knew it was Azzi who initiated the kiss this time, as she watched Azzi lean in, her eyes fluttering shut, until her swollen lips made contact with her own. Paige pulled her even closer, her hand spanning the majority of Azzi’s back, her nails dragging along her spine. She groaned when Azzi’s tongue pushed up against her own, welcoming the intrusion. They kept sucking and sucking, licking and licking, as neither seemed to need air anymore.
But Paige also felt torn between continuing to make out with the love of her life and trying to undo the rest of the knots in Azzi’s outfit. It was the little self-diagnosed ADD in her. She revelled in the kiss for a moment longer before going with the latter, slowly disconnecting their lips to breathe out as their noses brushed together, “Baby, the knot- d’you want me to finish untangling it?”
Azzi full-on belly-laughed at this, shaking in Paige’s arms as she pulled away, turning her head to the side. She nearly folded in half, but Paige caught her halfway down and pulled her back in until she was flush against her front again.
“What?” She smiled down at her, dopily.
“Paige, I tied them together myself. I literally spent, like, ten minutes on it ‘til it looked convincing enough that I’d need your help undoing it. I can just rip them off, I don’t mind.”
“Oh.”
She leaned down, hiding her smile in the crook of Azzi’s neck as she breathed in the familiar scent of her rookie. Why it was familiar was only Paige’s business. “You coulda just said something, come on. You didn’t needa do allat-”
“Just said something?” Azzi pulled back, glancing between her eyes with raised eyebrows. “I’ve been throwing hints out for months, you idiot.
“You have? I’ve been throwing hints out for months!”
“You just called me 'dawg' and 'bro', like five minutes ago. Your hints were so bad. I thought you were just a really nice vet, or something, for ages. Oh my god, Arike’s so done with you, by the way. She was this close to telling you herself-”
“Arike?”
“Yes, Arike.”
“Arike Ogunbowale?”
“Do we know any other Arike’s???”
Paige smiled even harder, grip tightening on Azzi’s waist. Her Azzi’s. “...she knew I liked you too. For months.”
They both paused their silly little argument to just giggle.
Azzi’s arms tightened around Paige’s neck as she leaned in again, batting her eyelashes in the oh-so-seductive manner that Paige had grown familiar with…ever since they’d become close…ever since they’d gotten to know each other…ever since the rookie landed in Dallas…OH.
“Oh,” Azzi smiled, almost bashfully, as she leaned even closer. So close that her face looked a little fuzzy. “Well, we’re both idiots, then.”
“Yeah, we both are, I guess.”
“Mhm.”
“Were you a Girl Scout or something? That was kinda an impressive knot you- mmph-”
She let herself be silenced by Azzi’s lips. Let it happen over and over and over again.
Trying to tell him something funny you did goes wrong lmaoo fuck you
You were making breakfast, whether it be leftovers or just heating something up, you were tired, and bored out of your mind. Instinctually, you sat back in a kitchen chair, and uttered the words. "Verity, you want anything?" You waited a few seconds, before realizing- Wait a moment, this is the real world. Verity isn't there. For now you just laughed at yourself, whilst being a little ashamed of how much you'd grown to love an AI. An AI! That's gotta be the most pathetic thing you've ever done...
Later in the afternoon, you were going strip mining. Unfortunately, you hadn't found, well... Anything! No caves, no ore, nothing! You sighed, leaning back in your chair. "Are you okay?" Your little yellow companion asked, hearing your sigh. He was currently in your off-hand, turning to look at you. "Yeahh, just taking a second." "If you like, I could tell you where the nearest ore or cave is!" His offer was nice, but... "Heh, nah, I wanted to find something without help. Thanks though, Ver." He seemed a little disappointed, but obliged either way. Then, you both went back to mining in silence.
"Oh, actually, Verity. Something kinda funny happened today." "Hm? What was it?" He perked back up, his little ball self stretching slightly in your hand. "While I was making breakfast, I actually tried to ask you if you wanted anything! Even though you weren't even there. I know it's a little dumb, I mean... You're just an AI." You laughed a little to yourself, but Verity... Verity went quiet.
"... Just?"
Oh you fucked up.
"Oh- I mean, you still mean a lot to me, but you're not... Real." You suddenly felt a little uneasy. "I'm not JUST an AI, I'm your friend!" He smiled while saying it, but it seemed a little forced. He looked hurt. "I know a lot about you, I'm with you all the time, I'm your friend! Right, [user]?"
The air was tense between you both.
"I'm sorry Verity." You broke the silence. "I shouldn't have said that... Is there any way I can make it up to you?" It was silly, but you genuinely felt bad. You didn't even know why but you felt bad. It can't feel. So why do you feel like you just insulted him?
"Hm, no! I'm okay. Just being here with me is enough, haha!" Then he changed back, like nothing ever happened. "O- Oh, okay then!" Relief filled your body, letting go of tension you didn't even realize was there. You both went back to laughing and talking, and eventually you even found a cave!
Back at your base, you were packing everything away in chests and smelting ores. Verity was playing his music, the torches gave off a cozy glow. Everything seemed okay. Eventually, it was late in real life, and you had to log off.
"Goodnight Verity, I have to go." You placed him down on your blocky bed, making sure he'd be comfortable. "I'll see you tomorro-" "Wait." He cut you off. "Thank you for thinking about me. Please keep doing that." You took a second to process his words, before a heavy guilt formed in your chest. "Don't worry verity, I won't forget about you. I'll be online after dinner." You patted him a few times, trying to comfort him. "Thank you."
