#˜”°• holding the matches •°”˜ speak.

[boobav]

There was always something unspoken between you and Viktor.

After the attack, you were certain you'd never get the chance to explore it. Find the words, hidden as they were, bring them together into something satisfactory. With smoke in your throat and blood on your tongue, you'd seen Viktor in the rubble, barely comprehended the mumble of Jayce's voice through ringing ears.

You thought then that the words would never be spoken. The sentence never brought to fruition, whatever that may mean. A ripe fruit left to rot.

And, now, with Viktor alive, weary against your headboard and awfully silent, you think again that the words are a lost cause.

"Can I see?" Is all you ask.

He raises a hand, sinewy purple accented by pure gold, and lets his robe fall loose to pool around his hips.

There's no sensuality in the way you examine him. The way you eye every curve in the dim candlelight, every meeting of gold and purple, the shade failing to find a name in your mind. The way you shuffle forwards, almost unconsciously, the way his hand finds yours when you come to straddle him. The touch is hesitant, fearful, almost. He looks to you for assurance as though weaving his fingers through yours could somehow offend.

Your free hand finds his collarbone, his chest, sinks down to his torso with a terribly gentle touch.

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't think so."

His voice, the sweet tone you've grown so accustomed to, remains intact. Changed, in a way, by a humming undertone. A simmering of something powerful present even in voice. Your hand finds his face, the pale skin beneath your palm, and the sound he makes is quiet. A mix of confusion and pleasure. Your thumb runs over his cheek, your fingers knead through his hair.

He's afraid, or something close to that. The sensation you bring to him seems to closely match the definition of fear, the uncertainty of it all. He slips his hand from yours, lets it rest instead on the curve of your waist. On skin covered by cloth. He feels it safer that way. He seems, now, to feel everything acutely at once, and yet, to feel nothing in its entirety. Apathy and passion pressed together into an amalgam of unknowns.

Your touch seems to be the only certain reality. Your quiet questions. Your deep breaths, your steady heart. He raises his hand to feel it in your chest. Encased in bone and flesh, your life, so terribly delicate against him.

The words sit heavy on your tongue. You feel almost like this is your last chance to speak, like the Viktor visiting you now is a shadow. No more quiet afternoons in the laboratory. No more shared lunches and exchanged laughs. Simplicity shattered, for better or for worse. He feels the same. You see it in his eyes, in the way his lips part, in the way his brow furrows so subtly.

"I should've said it sooner," you say, faces close, both equally enraptured by the intricacies of expression, "I care about you a lot. I should've..."

His kiss is gentle. It fills you with warmth, makes your chest feel as though it were stuffed with flowers and ginger. When you part, you watch the colours of his eyes swirl, mumble honeyed words against his lips.

It's selfish, you know. Thanking the powers that be that his life was spared, however changed it may be, however against persistence he may seem.

His face falls to the crook of your neck. You hold him like an idol, a prized possession thought lost.

And you hope, so deeply it burns, that he too can feel warmth in his chest. His hands wrap around you, the stream of something you can't begin to comprehend running through the skin, and you pray solely that he can still feel the way you do.

That the words can still find meaning in his mind.

[misaerabl]

Off The Ice

HOCKEY PLAYER ABBY X JOURNALIST READER 

MINORS and MEN DNI / Word count: 9.9k words 

SUMMARY: You were tasked with covering your university’s women’s hockey team, you see it as your chance to prove yourself worthy of becoming the next chief editor. Your main focus is Abby Anderson, the team’s star forward known for her cold, distant reputation. After observing her a few times, you’re surprised when she starts to warm up to you—unveiling a side of her no one else seems to see.

WARNINGS: scissoring, eating out, fingering (both a and r receiving and giving). I would say this is kind of a fluff with smut TT.

A/N: this is my early Christmas present tee hee.. I went on a bit of a whim writing this…  SMUT WITH PLOT or PLOT WITH SMUT WTV (please let me know if I miss any warnings!)

 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The newsroom is buzzing with the usual chaos of deadlines and last-minute assignments. You’re sitting at your desk, scrolling through your laptop when your editor, Dina, stands by the door, holding a clipboard with the next round of assignments.

“Alright, people, we’ve got some big matches coming up,” she says, her eyes scanning the room. “I need someone to cover the women’s hockey team. We’ve got scouts coming to the next game, so make sure it’s more than just a game recap. I want a real story, got it?”

You glance up, the opportunity immediately catching your attention. The women’s team has been making waves lately, and Abby Anderson, the star forward, has been all anyone’s talking about. Known for her ruthless play and icy demeanor, she’s a force on the ice but practically a ghost off it. No one has really gotten the chance to uncover what makes her tick.

“I’ll do it,” you say, raising your hand before anyone else can speak up.

Dina looks at you, surprised. “You sure? It’s a tough one. A lot of pressure to get a unique angle.”

“I think I’ve got a good angle,” you reply, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I want to write about the team, but also about her. There’s more to Abby than just her game stats.”

Dina raises an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Alright, you’ve got the job. But make it count.”

As she walks away, you can’t help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. This could be your shot at making your mark—and maybe even getting that chief editor position. You grab your notebook, already mentally outlining your approach. The real challenge, though, won’t be writing the story—it’ll be getting past Abby’s walls.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

A few weeks later, you're sitting in the stands of the rink, notebook in hand, watching the women’s hockey team practice. The cold air cuts through the arena, but you're too focused on your task to notice.

Abby Anderson moves like a storm on the ice. Her swift, powerful strides cut through the rink with precision, her eyes locked on the puck, her focus unbreakable. She’s the kind of player who makes it look easy, but you know there’s more to it than that.

You’ve been attending practices for days now, trying to catch glimpses of Abby when she’s not in game mode. But so far, she’s kept her distance. She’s all business, all the time, barking orders at her teammates and keeping her interactions brief. If anyone speaks to her off the ice, it's either short and to the point or completely ignored. You’ve yet to get more than a few sentences out of her.

You jot down a few notes, trying to focus on the team’s dynamics, but your eyes keep drifting back to Abby. She's skating alone now, practicing shots at the net, her intense movements betraying any hint of vulnerability. You wonder if she ever lets anyone see that side of her—the one that's not all about hockey, about being the best.

“Hey.”

You jump, startled, and look up to find Abby standing next to the railing, her skates still on, but her posture relaxed. She looks at you with an unreadable expression.

“Uh, hey,” you reply, quickly trying to gather yourself. "Just—just taking some notes. You know, for the article."

She nods, glancing at the rink before looking back at you. “How’s it going so far? Got a good story yet?”

You hesitate, unsure how much of the truth to reveal. “I’m still working on it. It’s hard to find the angle everyone’s expecting… but I think I’ll get there.”

Abby studies you for a moment, her face still as hard to read as always. “Just don’t make me sound like a robot on the ice. I know how that goes.” She smirks, her first real hint of a smile.

You can’t help but laugh, relieved. “I’ll do my best to capture the whole picture. Not just the stats.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Good. Keep it real.”

With that, she turns and heads back to the ice, leaving you standing there, heart racing slightly faster than usual. You watch her skate off, feeling the weight of the conversation. It wasn’t much, but it was more than you had before. Maybe, just maybe, you were starting to get past her walls.

But you also know it’s just the beginning. There's more to Abby Anderson than the game, and you’re determined to find it.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

A few days later, you’re standing in front of Abby’s dorm, the familiar nerves creeping in. The article deadline is approaching fast, and you’re still struggling to break past Abby’s walls. But today is different. After days of awkward exchanges and hesitant small talk after practice, you finally managed to convince her to sit down for a real interview.

You took a deep breath, knocked on the door, and heard the faint shuffle of movement from inside. Moments later, the door swung open, revealing Abby in a casual hoodie and sweatpants, her hair pulled back in her signature braid. The intense, icy exterior you were used to wasn’t there—she looked... normal, like a regular college student.

"Hey," she said, offering a small, almost reluctant smile. "Come on in."

You stepped inside, feeling the warmth of the room instantly contrast with the chilly vibe Abby often projected. The space was clean but a bit cluttered, with hockey gear tossed on one side and textbooks scattered on her desk. It felt strangely intimate like you were seeing a side of Abby no one else ever had access to.

"Sorry about the mess," Abby muttered, gesturing to the pile of equipment. "I’m usually just too tired after practice to clean."

"No worries," you said, taking a seat on the edge of the desk. "Thanks for agreeing to this. I know you’re not exactly a fan of interviews."

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t respond, instead grabbing two water bottles from a shelf and tossing one to you. "Let’s just get this over with," she said, her tone a little more playful than usual. It was as if the pressure from earlier had eased just a bit.

You smiled, grateful for her willingness. "I won’t take too much of your time. Just a few questions about... well, everything. Hockey, life. What it’s really like being Abby Anderson, off the ice."

She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms as she considered your question. "What it's really like..." she echoed, her gaze briefly flicking to the window as if pondering the words. "You make it sound like I'm some mystery."

"Maybe you are," you said, more candidly than you expected. "No one really knows you beyond the ice. You're always the tough player who doesn't talk to anyone off the rink." 

Abby’s gaze softened at your words, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she fiddled with the water bottle in her hands, turning it absently as she seemed to think about what to say. There was a quiet tension in the air, one that neither of you had expected when you first agreed to sit down.

"Yeah, I guess I come off like that, huh?" Abby finally said, breaking the silence. Her voice had a quiet edge to it, almost as if she was admitting something she hadn’t said out loud before. "I don’t really know how to be any different. It’s easier this way."

You felt a shift in the atmosphere, like she was allowing herself to be more open than she ever had before. The moment was subtle, but you couldn’t ignore it.

"I get that," you said softly, leaning forward. "But you’re more than just a hockey player, Abby. I mean, you’ve got layers—there’s got to be more to you than what we see on the ice."

Abby’s eyes met yours then, the intensity of her gaze making your heart skip a beat. For a brief second, you thought she might brush you off again, but instead, she looked almost… vulnerable.

"You think so?" she asked, her voice quieter now, as though she was testing you, seeing if you’d take her seriously.

You nodded, feeling a sense of connection you hadn’t expected to feel. "Yeah, I do."

A moment of silence stretched between you, and you could feel the energy in the room shift. The playful banter had evaporated, replaced by something deeper, more intense. Abby’s eyes lingered on yours, her lips pressing together as if fighting back something unspoken. You weren’t sure what was happening, but it was as if the ice around her was finally starting to melt, and in the stillness of her dorm, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

"I don’t usually do this," Abby said, her voice a little breathless. "Let people in, I mean."

The admission hung in the air, and you realized how rare this moment was for her. It was raw, real, and far from the icy persona she’d shown everyone else. There was no game face now, no walls.

"You don’t have to let anyone in," you replied, your voice lower now, almost without thinking. "But I’m not like everyone else, Abby."

She took a step closer, her eyes searching yours for a moment. Then, without another word, Abby’s hand reached out, brushing against yours—light at first, like she was testing the waters. Your breath caught in your throat, and your heart raced as the proximity between you grew more charged, more electric.

"Are you sure about that?" she whispered, her voice shaky, unsure, but her eyes steady as she closed the space between you.

Before you could respond, Abby leaned in, her lips meeting yours in a kiss that was soft but insistent. You could feel the toned, muscular strength in her arms as she held you, her hand sliding to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. The warmth of her body radiated against yours, the firmness of her form pressing gently but surely as her fingers slid into your hair. It was as if her whole presence surrounded you—strong, sure, yet still carrying a touch of hesitation.

The kiss deepened as Abby caressed your hair gently, her fingers threading through it with a tenderness that belied her fierce persona on the ice. It was a contrast—the hard, determined athlete and the softness of the way she touched you. The moment felt like a contradiction, one that both of you were willing to embrace.

When she finally pulled away, her chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. She looked at you with wide eyes, lips slightly parted as if she couldn’t quite believe what had just happened. Her hand remained in your hair, fingers still grazing your scalp.

Abby’s hand lingered in your hair, her touch soft but steady, as though she needed a moment to ground herself. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, eyes still locked on yours, as if searching for something—answers, maybe, or reassurance that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment.

"That was..." Abby’s voice trailed off, her lips curling into a small, uncertain smile. "I didn’t think you’d be... like that."

You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the kiss. "Like what?"

Abby shrugged, a little bashful for the first time since you met her. "I don’t know. I guess I just figured you’d be... different."

"Different how?" you asked, your voice quieter now, but there was a playful edge to it.

"Like... not so—" She gestured vaguely between the two of you, looking for the right words. "I don’t know. You’re not what I expected."

It was your turn to feel a little bashful. You didn’t know what to make of this sudden shift in dynamics, but there was something about Abby’s vulnerability, her uncertainty, that made you feel like maybe this—whatever this was—wasn’t just some random kiss. It felt more like a beginning.

"Maybe I’m not," you replied softly. "Maybe we’re both surprising each other."

Abby’s eyes softened at that, and she gave a slow nod. She seemed to be processing everything in silence, unsure of how to label the moment. She was still the tough, intense player on the ice, but the cracks in that persona were becoming more apparent now.

"Don’t go thinking this means I’m some open book now," Abby warned with a smirk, though there was no real bite to it. "I’m still the same Abby Anderson."

You laughed lightly, the tension easing between you two. "I never thought you were an open book."

"Good," Abby replied, her smile returning, warmer than before. She finally pulled her hand from your hair, though she kept her gaze locked on you, her lips still lingering with a hint of the kiss you’d just shared. "But maybe... just maybe... we can see where this goes."

You nodded slowly, your heart still racing, but your chest felt lighter, freer as if a new chapter was just beginning to unfold. "I’m willing to find out."

The quiet between you lingered, the air between you charged with something unspoken. Abby’s eyes softened, and for the first time, she didn’t seem like the intimidating hockey player. She was just Abby, standing in front of you, her vulnerability laid bare.

"Maybe we don’t need to talk about the article anymore," she murmured, her voice low, almost like she was thinking out loud. "Maybe we can just... be here for a bit."

Your heart skipped a beat, and before you could respond, Abby was standing up, closing the space between you. The shift in her demeanor was subtle but unmistakable. She was no longer the distant athlete; she was someone who wanted more than just the interview.

"You make it hard to stay guarded," she whispered, her lips brushing against your ear, her breath warm against your skin. Her hands slid to your waist, gently pulling you closer. Her body was strong, and solid, but there was a softness in the way she touched you, a tenderness you hadn’t expected.

You swallowed, your pulse racing as you met her eyes. "Abby..." You couldn’t find the right words, but you didn’t need to. The air between you both was thick with the weight of what was about to happen.

Abby’s lips found yours again, more urgent this time, less like a question and more like an answer. She kissed you deeply, her hands threading into your hair as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours with a heat that made everything else fade away. The kiss was slow, deliberate, as though she was savoring the moment. Her arms wrapped around you, holding you tight, like she was afraid to let you go as if the distance between you both had only made her want you more.

You melted into her embrace, your hands finding their way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer as if you could close the gap that had always been there between you. She groaned softly, the sound low in her throat, sending a thrill through you.

When the kiss finally broke, Abby’s forehead rested against yours, both of you breathing heavily. Her hands gently cupped your face, her thumbs brushing across your cheeks as if memorizing the feel of you.

"I’ve been wanting this," she admitted, her voice hushed. "More than I thought I would."

You smiled, still feeling the rush of the moment. "Yeah," you whispered back. "Me too."

Abby’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. "This doesn’t change anything, right?" she asked, her voice a little uncertain. 

You gently cupped her face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of her jaw as if to reassure her. "No," you said softly. "But maybe we can figure out what comes next..."

Her lips curled into a smile, and for the first time, it wasn’t guarded. It was real, and it was for you. "Yeah," she whispered, closing the distance again, her lips capturing yours in a kiss that felt like the beginning of something neither of you was ready to define just yet, but both of you were willing to explore.

And as the kiss deepened, you realized that no matter what happened after this, you had stepped past the barrier that had once kept you both apart. Whatever came next, it was something neither of you were willing to walk away from…

She pushes you down on the couch, her body hovering above you. She stares deeply into your eyes as if she was asking for permission. You nod in response. 

Abby buries her face in your neck, kissing and nipping it, making you moan in response 

Abby's touch is confident and assertive, her hands roaming your body with an intensity that mirrors her personality on the ice. She knows what she wants, and she's not afraid to take it. Her fingers trace patterns on your skin, igniting sparks wherever they touch.

Her hands slid under your shirt, her fingertips trailing along your sides, feeling the soft skin beneath. You gasped at the touch, your hips bucking slightly. Abby took advantage of this, her hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer as she deepened the kiss.

She broke away from your lips, her breath hot against your neck as she whispered, "Can I... can we...?" She nuzzled her nose against your jaw, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, "Can I take this off?”

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest, and she reached for the hem of your shirt, slowly pulling it up and over your head.

As your shirt hit the floor, Abby's eyes roamed over your bare chest, taking in every detail. She reached out, tracing a finger over your collarbone, down your sternum, and across your abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in her wake.

Her touch was light, reverent, as if she was worshipping your body. She looked up at you, her eyes dark with desire, and leaned down to press a soft, open-mouthed kiss to your chest.

You hissed in a breath at the warmth of her mouth, your fingers tangling in her hair. She continued to place kisses all over your chest, her hands roaming over your curves. She paused at the waistband of your skirt, looking up at you for confirmation.

Seeing your nod, she hooked her fingers under the hem, pulling it up and off. She took a moment to appreciate what was revealed - your smooth legs, the curve of your hips, the lacy underwear that matched your bra.

Abby's hands slid up your legs, her touch leaving a path of tingling heat. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of your underwear, her eyes locked with yours. "Can I...?" she asked again, her voice barely above a whisper, full of need and uncertainty.

“Go ahead abby…” 

With a nod and a shy smile, Abby slowly slid your underwear off, tossing it aside. She paused, her eyes taking in every inch of you, before leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your inner thigh.

She heard you suck in a breath above her, and she looked up at you with a mischievous grin. Slowly, she leaned in, her hands gripping your thighs to keep you in place as she pressed her mouth to you, her tongue parting your folds.

She started slowly, exploring you, learning what you liked. Your moans filled the room, encouraging her. She slipped a finger inside you, her mouth continuing its administration. You let out a low moan, your hands fisting the couch cushion as you tried to keep yourself grounded.

She added another finger, stretching you, preparing you. Your moans grew louder, your hips moving in rhythm with her actions. Abby looked up at you, her eyes glistening with unshed tears at your beauty. She withdrew her fingers and climbed up your body, claiming your mouth in a passionate kiss.

You could taste yourself on her, the evidence of her ministrations. You moaned into the kiss, wrapping your legs around her waist, pulling her closer. "Abby..." you whispered, your voice shaky,

"Mmm?" She murmured against your lips, grinding against you. She was still fully clothed, her pants rough against your bare skin.

"You're still dressed..." You panted, your hands reaching for the hem of her shirt. She grinned and sat up, pulling her shirt off in a swift motion. She reached behind her back, unhooking her bra and tossing it aside.

Her breasts bounced free, and you reached up to grasp them, squeezing and kneading them in your hands. Abby let out a pleased moan, her hands reaching for the button of her pants. She popped it open and slid the zipper down, shoving her pants and underwear down her legs.

Now Abby was completely naked, sitting astride you. You looked at her, taking in her toned stomach, her full breasts, the curve of her hips, her muscular thighs. She saw the awe in your eyes, and it made her feel powerful.

With a predatory grin, Abby lowered herself onto you. She wrapped her legs around yours, crossing her ankles behind your knees. She slowly rocked against you, her wetness rubbing against yours. You gasped at the new sensation, your hands gripping her thighs as she continued to move against you.

She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against yours as she captured your mouth in a deep kiss. She sped up her pace, her breath coming in short pants against your lips. She reached one hand down between them, her fingers finding that bundle of nerves and rubbing in time with her movements.

You cried out into the kiss, your hips bucking up to meet hers. The sensation of her rubbing against you, combined with her fingers on your clit, was too much. You felt your orgasm building, your vision blurring as Abby continued to grind against you.

"Abby... Ab... I'm... I'm..." You stuttered, your words cut off by a moan as she quickened her pace. She felt you convulse against her, your hands clutching at her back, your face buried in her neck.

She smiled to herself, pleased with the effect she was having on you. She kept scissoring against you, her own orgasm building. "Look at you," she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "You're so… perfect.”

As she spoke, she felt her own climax approaching. She increased the pressure between her legs, rubbing herself against you with frantic intensity. With a loud cry, she came, her hips jerking against yours as her orgasm overtook her.

She collapsed on top of you, her breath hot against your neck. You ran your fingers up and down her back, feeling the dampness of her sweat. "Abby... that was..." you started, but words failed you. She just chuckled and nuzzled your neck. "I know,”

She stayed on top of you, her arms wrapped around you in a loose hug. Her fingers traced patterns on your stomach as she nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent. "Can we just…”

"...Stay like this for a while?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. She nuzzled your neck again, her body pressing closer against yours. She felt content, happier than she had in a long time. She felt a connection with you, a bond forged in the heat of passion.

You nodded, not wanting to break the moment. You wrapped your arms around her, holding her close as you both lay there in silence. The only sound was the gentle rise and fall of your breathing and the soft rustling of the sheets.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The next day came faster than you expected. You’d barely gotten any sleep, your mind constantly replaying everything that had happened after. But as you sat in the café near the university, waiting for Abby, your heart settled into something more focused. Today wasn’t about the sparks from the night before. Today was about the interview.

The café was quiet, the kind of place where you could lose yourself in the hum of conversation and the clink of cups and saucers. It was cozy, with warm light spilling from overhead lamps, and you took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You had a lot on your mind, not just about Abby, but about the article and what this interview could mean for your future with the paper. If you did this right, if you got Abby to open up like she never had before, you might be able to prove yourself worthy of the next chief editor position.

A few moments later, the door to the café opened, and there she was.

Abby stepped inside, her usual confidence radiating from her as she scanned the room, her eyes locking onto you instantly. She was dressed casually—athletic but comfortable—and yet she carried herself with the same quiet intensity that made her a standout on the ice. Her gaze softened when she saw you, and the familiar spark of something more was there again, just beneath the surface.

She walked over to the table, giving you a small but genuine smile. "Hey," she greeted, taking a seat across from you. "You doing okay?"

You nodded, trying to steady yourself. "Yeah. Just a little nervous."

"Don't be," she said, her voice reassuring. "It’s just coffee, right?"

"Yeah. Just coffee," you echoed, a small smile tugging at your lips. "But you know... a little more than that, too. A real interview."

Abby chuckled, glancing around the café. "Right, well, let's make it count then."

You both ordered your drinks and for a moment, there was an easy silence between you. The pressure of the moment, of what had passed between you both, seemed to be melting away, replaced by something more comfortable, natural.

Finally, you picked up your notebook and pen, getting down to business. "Alright," you began, your voice steady but a little softer than usual. "Let’s start with hockey. You’ve been the team’s top scorer for a while now. How does it feel to be in the spotlight like that?"

Abby leaned back in her chair, her eyes focused on you. "It’s... a lot of pressure. But it’s part of the job. Being in the spotlight is something you just get used to. Especially when your team depends on you."

There was a confidence in her tone, but also something more—something that suggested the weight of being the best wasn’t always as easy as it seemed. You could sense the layers beneath her tough exterior, and you knew this was where the real interview would begin.

You pushed forward, asking more questions, and letting the conversation flow. As you spoke, Abby opened up more than you expected, revealing not just her thoughts on hockey, but glimpses of who she was outside the rink. She was driven, and focused, but there was a vulnerability to her that only seemed to surface when she talked about her team, her passions, and the sacrifices she’d made to get where she was.

The interview wasn’t just about facts anymore—it was about connection. And for a moment, you forgot about the article entirely.

After a while, Abby leaned forward, her eyes locking with yours, and you could feel the shift again. There was a quiet tension hanging between you both as if the world outside the café had faded away, and only the two of you existed in this small, intimate moment.

"You know," Abby said softly, her voice almost playful now, "you asked a lot of questions, but you haven’t told me anything about you. What made you want to write about me? About hockey?"

You blinked, taken off guard by her question. You hadn’t expected her to turn the tables. "I... guess I thought you were an interesting story. I mean, you’re kind of a mystery to everyone. The tough hockey player. The star who doesn’t talk to anyone off the ice."

Abby’s smile was small, but it felt meaningful. "I’m not really a mystery. Just... focused. You get that, right?"

You nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "Yeah, I get it."

For a long moment, you both just sat there, the sound of the café filling the silence between you. The interview was far from over, but something had changed. It wasn’t just about the article anymore. It was about something else—something you both hadn’t been ready to acknowledge yet, but it was there, lingering in the air between you.

"You know," you said after a beat, "I think this might be one of the best interviews I’ve done."

Abby’s gaze softened. "Glad I could make it interesting," she said, her voice quiet but warm.

And as you sat there, talking about everything and nothing, you realized that what had started as a simple interview had turned into something else entirely. A new chapter, one you weren’t sure how to write, but were willing to explore.

 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

The final game of the season was just days away, and the energy around campus was electric. You could feel the anticipation building with every passing hour. The women’s hockey team had worked tirelessly all season, and now, the championship was within reach. For Abby and the rest of the team, it was the culmination of all their hard work. For you, it was the final stretch to prove you could handle the pressure of being the next chief editor of the school paper.

You’d passed the draft of your interview to Dina, the current editor-in-chief, and she had loved it. The words flowed smoothly, and she could sense the connection between you and Abby without you having to spell it out. That feedback had given you the confidence to continue pushing forward, not just for the article, but for everything you had on the line.

But the days leading up to the final game felt like a whirlwind. You and Abby were both consumed with your responsibilities—her with the team’s last-minute practices and preparation, you with your final edits and deadlines. It wasn’t the ideal time for the two of you to reconnect, but you knew that after the game, everything would settle, and maybe you could find out what this—whatever it was—meant.

You found yourself in the quiet corner of the student lounge, typing away on your laptop, trying to finish your article before the big game. Your mind kept wandering back to Abby, though—how her smile lingered after the interview, how she’d looked at you across the café that day, like there was something more she wanted to say but couldn’t.

You hadn’t had time to talk since that day, and now, with the pressure mounting on both sides, you weren’t sure when you’d get the chance to sit down with her again.

The door to the lounge opened, and you didn’t look up right away, assuming it was just another student coming in for a late-night study session. But then, a familiar voice broke through your concentration.

"Hey, you."

You froze, the sound of Abby’s voice sending a familiar rush through your chest. When you looked up, you found her standing there, dressed in a hoodie and sweats, her long hair tied back in a messy bun. She looked exhausted, but there was a spark in her eyes.

"Abby?" you asked, surprised but a little relieved to see her. You hadn’t expected her to stop by.

"Yeah," she said with a small grin, taking a step closer. "I, uh, figured we should talk before the big day. We’ve both been too busy, haven’t we?"

You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves. "Yeah, it’s been crazy. I’ve barely had time to breathe with everything going on."

"I get that," she said, her eyes softening. "But I wanted to check in with you. How’s the article coming along? You’re going to be on top of the world when they publish it, you know that, right?"

A warmth spread through you at her words. "It’s... going well," you said, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. "I think Dina liked the draft. She said it’s one of the best interviews she’s read in a while."

Abby raised an eyebrow, a proud smile tugging at her lips. "I’m glad to hear that." She leaned against the table, her tone turning more playful. "But you better not make me look too good. I don’t want to get all cocky before the game."

You laughed softly, the familiar spark between you two returning. "I think I can keep it balanced."

Abby’s smile faded just slightly as she looked at you more seriously. "Listen, about... what happened before. I know we’ve both been busy, but I just wanted to say... I don’t regret it. Us, I mean." She paused, her gaze softening. "I guess I’m just trying to figure out what this all means, but I don’t want to run from it, either."

Your heart skipped a beat, the tension in the air thick with unspoken words. "Me neither," you said quietly. "I don’t know what this is, but I’m willing to see where it goes. After the game, maybe we can talk more."

Abby nodded, a small, genuine smile returning to her face. "Yeah. We’ll figure it out." She glanced at the clock on the wall, then back at you. "I should go, get some rest. Big game tomorrow, right?"

You nodded, feeling that familiar pang of disappointment that she had to leave so soon. "Yeah. Good luck, Abby."

She paused at the door, turning back to face you. "Thanks. And... I’ll see you there," she said with a wink before she disappeared into the night.

As you sat back in your chair, you couldn’t help but smile. Despite everything—despite the pressure of the article, the looming championship game, and the uncertainty about what you and Abby were becoming—you couldn’t deny the excitement buzzing in your chest. Tomorrow was the big day, and whatever came after, you knew you’d both be ready.

The final game had arrived, and the energy around campus was palpable. The buzz in the air was electric, with every student and faculty member talking about the championship match. You could feel the weight of the moment—this wasn’t just any game. For Abby and the team, it was the culmination of months of grueling practice, sacrifices, and determination. And for you, it was the finish line for your article—and maybe something more.

You had finalized your piece, and after getting Dina’s approval earlier that morning, there was nothing left to do but wait for the game to unfold. But as you stood at the rink, the sense of anticipation made it hard to focus on anything else. You watched as the team prepared, Abby at the forefront, looking every bit the fierce competitor you had come to admire.

Her movements were fluid, and powerful, slicing through the ice like she owned it. You found yourself drawn to her, to the way she held herself—confidence in every stride, but you could also sense something else, something beneath the surface. And though you tried to concentrate on taking notes for the article, every so often, you’d glance at her, catching her eye.

You were almost caught up in the rhythm of the game when the buzzer sounded, signaling the start. The intensity was immediate, the tension tangible in the arena. The crowd’s roars filled your ears, the game beginning in a blur of motion. You scribbled down observations, the action on the ice more chaotic than you had anticipated. It was difficult to focus on anything other than the game itself. Every move felt crucial, and Abby was right in the middle of it all, controlling the pace with every turn.

But it wasn’t just the game that had your attention. It was the way Abby played—how she seemed to be everywhere at once, her energy contagious, urging her teammates forward. She was the center of it all, and you couldn’t help but admire how she took charge, and how her presence seemed to push the team toward victory. She was sharp, a calculated force on the ice.

And then it happened.

Abby made an interception, gliding effortlessly past the defense. At that moment, time seemed to stretch out, the entire arena holding its breath as she lined up for a shot. Her eyes focused, and in one smooth motion, the puck flew off her stick and toward the net. The sound of the puck hitting the post rang out, but Abby wasn’t done. She was already there, crashing the net, securing the rebound, and slamming it in. The crowd erupted.

Your heart raced, the realization dawning on you that her goal had put them ahead—and it was the winning goal.

The game continued, but the tide had turned. With seconds on the clock, the buzzer sounded, and Abby’s team celebrated their victory. You stood in the middle of the crowd, still processing the intensity of it all. Abby had led them to victory, and you couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for her.

You waited near the locker room, hoping to catch Abby after the game. You hadn’t been able to keep up with the excitement of the game completely, but you had seen enough to know this was her moment. The sound of the locker room doors opening echoed in your ears, and you spotted her almost immediately.

Abby stood out from the others, her usual focused demeanor softened by the thrill of the win. She was still in her gear, her face flushed from the game, but there was a lightness about her that hadn’t been there before.

"That was incredible," you said, your words a little breathless from the adrenaline of the game still coursing through you.

She looked at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "It was a team effort," she replied, but you could see the pride in her eyes. "Still, I’m glad you were here to see it."

You smiled, taking a step closer. "You’ve earned it," you said quietly, meeting her gaze, trying to find the right words. "I’m proud of you."

Abby’s expression softened, her usual confident exterior cracking just a little. She leaned in slightly as if weighing her words carefully. "Thanks," she said, voice lower than before. There was a moment of silence between you two, the noise of the locker room buzzing faintly in the background.

For a second, it felt like you were the only two people in the room. Abby’s eyes never left yours, a quiet understanding passing between you. There was no need for words, not now. The game, the season, the article—it all seemed to fade as you stood there, caught between the rush of the moment and the realization that this wasn’t just about hockey anymore.

As the team continued their celebration around you, Abby’s hand brushed against yours, a subtle connection that sent a jolt through you. She gave you a small nod before walking toward the rest of her team, leaving you standing there, your heart still racing from the game—and from everything that was unfolding between you and her.

⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

he newsroom was alive with a flurry of activity, papers scattered everywhere as the final touches were being put on the issue. The clock ticked toward 8 PM, and you were sitting at your desk, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy. The article was done. Your piece on Abby, her journey to the championship, and the thrilling game had come together perfectly. The highlight of the issue, the one everyone was talking about. It felt like the culmination of everything—your hard work, your ambition, and the connection you had built with Abby.

As the editors rushed past, congratulating you on how well the article turned out, you couldn't help but smile. A few of them had asked you how you’d managed to make Abby open up, some even teasing you about her sudden warmth toward you. "Did you sweet-talk her?" one of the writers joked. "She’s been ice-cold with everyone else!" You just shrugged, your mind drifting to her last words to you after the game. "Just doing my job."

But as the energy in the newsroom built to a crescendo, Dina appeared in front of you, leaning in with a grin. "I think you just earned the spot as the next editor in chief," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the buzz of the room.

Your heart skipped a beat. You blinked, not sure if you’d heard her right. "Wait, what?" you asked, feeling a flush of disbelief and excitement rise in your chest.

Dina chuckled softly. "You’ve earned it. You’ve got the article everyone’s been talking about, and you’ve proven you’ve got the skills. I’m officially putting your name in for the position." Her eyes twinkled with approval as she walked off, leaving you stunned, your breath caught in your throat. This was it. This was everything you’d worked for.

As the evening wore on, the final issue of the paper was ready to go to print, and it was only a matter of time before it would be released at midnight. You stayed in the newsroom, helping with last-minute preparations, but your thoughts kept drifting back to Abby. What she’d said, what she meant to you now, and how the chemistry between you had grown in such a short time.

In the midst of the excitement, your phone buzzed, pulling you out of your thoughts. The message on your screen made your heart race.

Abby 🏒: Hey, where are you? 

Abby 🏒: I’m still at the party btw

Abby 🏒: I want to see you.

You couldn’t stop the smile that tugged at your lips as you typed your response, the warmth from her text a stark contrast to the cool air in the newsroom.

You: I’m at the paper, finishing things up. I’ll be there soon❤️

You felt a little giddy, your heart racing with anticipation. After everything, the article, the win, the promotion—it felt like the perfect moment to see her again, to see where everything between you would go.

As the clock ticked toward midnight, you closed your laptop, the rush of excitement bubbling up inside you. The paper would be published, and your future as editor-in-chief seemed all but certain. But as you left the newsroom, your mind was on Abby—and the night ahead.

As you turned the corner, the soft hum of the campus night air accompanied your steps. The excitement of the newsroom buzzed in your veins, but everything seemed to quiet when you saw her waiting for you.

Abby was leaning casually against the wall, a small smile tugging at her lips as she waited, the blue jersey she wore a bold contrast against the dimly lit hallway. It was the same one her teammates all wore, emblazoned with your university’s logo—proud and unmistakable. But even in something as simple as a jersey, there was still that undeniable pull to her presence.

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you walked toward her. "You didn’t have to wait for me," you teased softly, though you were secretly glad she had.

Abby pushed off from the wall, stepping closer. "I wanted to. Besides, I promised I’d see you tonight, didn’t I?" Her voice was playful, but there was something softer in her gaze, something more sincere.

You nodded, the air between you light and easy, but still charged with that undercurrent of something more. "You did," you agreed. "And, uh, I actually have something to show you." You pulled out your phone, tapping through the screens until you found the article you’d written.

Abby raised an eyebrow as she glanced at the screen. "No way," she said, her lips curling up slightly. "You actually made me sound like a good person."

You laughed, but there was a warmth spreading in your chest. "I didn’t just make you sound like a good person, I made you sound amazing." You swiped down, showing her the headline: "Abby Anderson: The Heart of the Winning Team." The words felt just as true as when you’d written them.

She studied the screen for a moment, her fingers brushing lightly against the phone. "I’ll admit, I didn’t expect you to get me to open up like this," she said, her voice quiet, almost thoughtful. "But you did. So, thanks."

Your heart raced at her words. The sincerity in her voice made everything feel more real, like something was shifting between you two.

Abby looked at you, her gaze holding yours for a moment longer than usual, before the silence stretched. The sounds of the party down the hall faded in the background, the moment between you two feeling more significant than any celebration.

"You wanna head back to the party?" you asked, breaking the silence, though neither of you moved immediately

She shook her head, her  hand brushed against yours. She paused, her fingers lingering against your wrist, a soft smile on her lips.

"I think," she started, her voice low and steady, "I’d rather be alone with you right now."

Your heart skipped a beat, her words making everything feel just a little more intimate. The noise from the party down the hall seemed to fade away, the energy shifting in an instant.

"You sure?" you asked, your voice a little quieter now, as the anticipation between you two hung thick in the air.

Abby nodded, her eyes meeting yours, full of something unspoken. "Yeah. I’d rather spend some time with you... just us."

She gave your hand a gentle squeeze before she led you away from the noise, down the hallway, and toward her dorm room. The walk felt longer than it was, but it gave you time to let the anticipation build. Abby’s steps were confident, but there was a softness in the way she held your hand, something that made your chest flutter.

When you reached her dorm, Abby opened the door, stepping aside to let you in. The room was cozy, nothing extravagant, you took in the familiar feeling. It felt like a place where she could truly be herself. The familiar blue jersey she wore still clung to her frame, a symbol of her strength on the ice. But now, in the quiet of the room, she seemed different—less guarded, more present.

She tossed herself on her bed and pulled you in with her, planting kisses on you. 

The sudden pull caught you off guard, and you laughed softly as you fell beside her. Abby's arms wrapped around you, her strength both reassuring and gentle. Her kisses were warm, pressing against your skin with an intensity that made everything else fade away. The room was quiet except for the soft rustle of the sheets and the sound of your breathing.

Abby paused, her forehead resting against yours as she caught her breath, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation. You met her gaze, a smile curving your lips as you traced the line of her jaw with your fingers, feeling the tension melt away under your touch.

“You okay?” she whispered, her voice husky and low, a tender contrast to the fierce athlete everyone else knew.

You nodded, your fingers threading through her hair. “More than okay,” you murmured, pressing your lips to hers again. The kiss deepened, slow and steady, as if both of you were savoring the rare moment of peace away from the chaos of the rink and the noise of the world outside.

Abby shifted, pulling you even closer, her embrace tightening around you as if she wanted to make sure this moment stayed real. The scent of her, the warmth radiating from her body, made your heart race. 

You sit up and move on top of her, her gaze softening as you did. “I think… you deserve a reward for your excellent performance at the game. don’t you think?” 

Abby’s eyes widened slightly at your words, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. She let out a breathy laugh, her hands finding their place on your hips as she looked up at you, a mix of amusement and anticipation in her gaze.

“Oh?” she said, raising an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Is that so?”

You leaned down, your lips barely brushing hers as you whispered, “Absolutely.” The playful tone sent a shiver through her, and you felt her fingers tighten their hold, drawing you closer.

Abby’s gaze softened, the fierce determination she carried on the ice replaced by an openness that was reserved for moments like this—moments just between the two of you. The space between you seemed to shrink as she tilted her head to meet your lips again, her kiss more insistent, filled with a new kind of energy that made your pulse quicken.

She sighed against your mouth, the sound sending warmth rushing through you. Her hands traveled up your back, pulling you down until there was barely any distance left. The room, once filled with quiet, seemed to pulse with the shared heartbeat between you.

“Best reward ever,” Abby whispered, a grin breaking through before she kissed you again, deeper this time as if she couldn’t get enough.

Pulling away from the kiss, you start to unbutton your shirt, watching her gaze on you. 

She bit her lip, her eyes never leaving yours as you began to unbutton your shirt. She felt a flutter of anticipation in her stomach, her heart pounding in her chest. She reached up, helping you remove the shirt, her fingers brushing against your skin. "You're so…”

"...beautiful," she finished, her voice barely above a whisper. She reached out, tracing a finger along the edge of your collarbone, feeling the warmth of your skin. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the spot she had just touched, before moving on to kiss the sensitive skin just below your jaw.

She trailed her kisses down your neck, her lips lingering on your pulse point. She could feel your heartbeat fluttering beneath her mouth, quickening with each touch. "I want you," she murmured against your skin, her hands sliding down to rest on your hips.

She chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your skin as she pulled back slightly. "You're right, I got a little carried away," she said with a playful grin. She settled back, watching you with hooded eyes, her hands resting on your thighs.“Ah! Not so fast Abigail. I’m the one who’s giving you this reward remember?”

You help her remove her jersey, and then the shirt she was wearing underneath. You trail down to her pants. As you began to unzip her pants, she lifted her hips, allowing you to slide them down along with her underwear. She lay before you, her body bare and exposed, her chest heaving with anticipation. Her eyes, filled with desire, followed your every movement as you leaned down.

She let out a soft gasp as you kissed her stomach, your lips trailing down to her hips. She wrapped her arms around your head, holding you close as you continued your path of kisses. When you reached her inner thigh, she spread her legs wider, giving you access to her most intimate area.

She moaned softly as you kissed her, the sensation overwhelming. Her hips buckled against your touch, her breathing growing heavier with each passing moment. She tangled her hands in your hair, pulling you closer as the pleasure intensified. "Please...please..." she begged, her voice barely a whisper.

She arched her back, her breath hitching as you continued to tease her with your mouth. Her legs tightened around your shoulders, her whole body tensing as the pressure built inside her. "Don't stop...please, don't stop..." she pleaded, her voice hoarse with desire.

Her eyes flew open, her mouth forming a silent 'O’ as you pushed two fingers inside her. She writhed beneath your touch, her hips bucking against your hand. "Yes...like that...please..." she moaned, her voice growing louder as the pleasure became almost too much to bear.

“Hm? You like it baby?” You hissed. 

“Oh god, yes...” She panted, her body tensing as your fingers curved upwards, finding that sweet spot deep inside her. Her head fell back against the bed, her body trembling. "More...I need more..." She looked at you, her eyes heavy-lidded with desire.”

You smiled, pleased with her reaction, and added a third finger, scissoring them inside her. She cried out, her back arching off the bed as the stretch and pressure became overwhelming. "Fuck...fuck fuck fuck!" She chanted, her voice echoing through the room as she struggled to breathe.

She could feel the heat building inside her, her body growing warmer and more sensitive with each passing second. Her hands grasped at the sheets beneath her, pulling them taut as the tension became unbearable. "I'm...I'm going to...please, please!" She begged, her eyes wide and desperate.

With a final thrust, you pushed your fingers deep inside her, crooking them upwards. She shattered, her body convulsing as waves of intense pleasure washed over her. She screamed your name, her voice hoarse from shouting, her body growing limp as the aftershocks subsided.

As she came down from her high, she pushed feebly at your shoulder, her body still shuddering occasionally. “My turn,” she whispered, her voice still ragged from her release. She pushed you onto your back, straddling you before you could protest.

You landed on your back with a surprised grunt, looking up at her with widened eyes. She grinned mischievously, her eyes filled with lust and determination. She slowly began to kiss her way down your chest, her hands caressing your skin.

She continued her descent, her lips leaving a trail of kisses on your skin. Without warning, she reached out and tore open your already unbuttoned shirt, the fabric ripping easily under her strength. She tossed the shirt aside and moved on to your pants, roughly pulling them down your legs along with your panties

Once she had you fully exposed, she took a moment to admire the view, her eyes hungrily roaming over your body. She licked her lips before leaning down, her hot breath ghosting over your sensitive flesh. "I'm going to make you feel so good,”

She whispered, her voice low and sultry. Before you could respond, she wrapped her hands around your thighs, pushing them apart. She leaned down and slowly, torturously, ran her tongue up your length.

She took her time exploring you with her tongue, licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Her hands massaged your thighs, occasionally dipping lower to tease your entrance. She worked you with skill and enthusiasm, determined to drive you wild with pleasure.

Abby sucked on your clit making you toss your head back and grip her hair. You could feel her smile. She stops for a second and slides in her fingers inside you

She curled her fingers inside you, rubbing against your g-spot as she continued to suck on your clit. You cried out in pleasure, your hips bucking against her face desperately. She added another finger, scissoring them inside you as she finger-fucked you relentlessly.

She could feel you tightening around her fingers, knowing you were close. She doubled her efforts, sucking hard on your clit as she pumped her fingers faster. Her other hand reached up to roughly grope your breast, pinching and tugging at your nipple. She wanted to feel you come undone.

The combination of sensations became too much and you came with a loud moan, your body shaking and convulsing. Abby continued to stroke you through your orgasm, prolonging your pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers and licked them clean, savoring your taste. "Mmm, you taste divine," she purred.

She crawled back up your body, her eyes glinting with satisfaction. She leaned down to claim your lips in a searing kiss, allowing you to taste yourself on her. She ground her hips against yours, her own desire evident in the way she rocked against you. She was far from finished with you… 

She kisses your neck, trailing down until she reaches your breasts, sucking on your nipples. 

She lavished attention on your breasts, suckling and kneading the soft mounds. She bit down gently on one peak, causing you to gasp. She grinned mischievously and continued her torture, moving between the two and back again.

“Mhmm.. Abby… Shit”

She heard your muffled words, your voice hoarse with desire. She knew you were helpless under her touch. She bit down harder on your peak, relishing your cry of pleasure-pain. She moved her hand down to toy with your slick folds, mirroring the action of her mouth with her fingers. 

You bit your lip, staring at her. as if begging her to give it to you. You wanted her fingers inside your walls once again.

Abby looked up at you through her lashes, a smirk playing on her lips. She slowly slid one finger, then two inside you, loving how you bit your lip and watched her with eager eyes. "You like that, baby?”

“Fuck yes…” 

Abby pumped her fingers in and out of you, curling them upward to hit that spot deep inside. Her thumb rubbed circles on your swollen nub. "Look at me while I touch you," she demanded. Your eyes locked onto hers as your hips lifted to meet her touch, silently begging for more.

She added another finger, stretching you. She watched your face as she increased her pace, her fingers slamming in and out of you. Your breaths came in short pants, your moans filling the room. She leaned down to capture one of your moans with her mouth, kissing you deeply.

Your legs shook as she worked you expertly. She could feel you tightening around her fingers. "That's it, baby. Come for me," she encouraged, her voice low. You shattered, convulsing around her fingers as you found your release.

As your climax washed over you, Abby gentled her touch, helping you ride out the waves of pleasure. She slowly withdrew her fingers.

She gathered you in her arms, holding you close as your breathing gradually slowed.

She stroked your back soothingly, placing soft kisses on your shoulder. "You’re gorgeous," she murmured. She reached over to the bedside table and retrieved a warm, damp cloth, cleaning you up tenderly. 

She tossed the cloth aside and pulled you back into her arms. "How are you feeling?" she asked softly. She nuzzled your neck, her voice laced with concern. You snuggled against her, your voice sleepy. "Content," you murmured. "So taken care of…”

She smiled, her heart warming at your words. She tightened her arms around you, her voice gentle. "Good. You deserve to be taken care of." She kissed your shoulder, her touch becoming slower, more loving. "Rest now, baby. I've got you.”

Abby’s gaze softened as she watched you sleep, the subtle rise and fall of your chest lulling her into a sense of calm she rarely found anywhere else. The room was quiet, the only sounds being your soft breaths and the distant hum of the city outside.

She took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle in—a mix of contentment and the unfamiliar ache of something deeper. Brushing her thumb across your cheek, she whispered, “You have no idea what you do to me,” her voice so low it was almost swallowed by the quiet.

As exhaustion finally pulled her eyes closed, Abby held you tighter, as if anchoring herself to this moment. The worries of games and expectations could wait; for now, all that mattered was the warmth shared between you and the steady rhythm of your hearts beating as one.

 ⋆.˚🦋༘⋆ 

[pinklemonslices]

little tiny fic, a missing scene of sorts? just after niko outsmarts the night nurse near the end of episode 7 🫶

—

“Oh, did you guys know, zombies are real,” Niko says, and Charles is sure he would be more intrigued by that if she had said it at any other time, after any other event. He’ll have to ask her about that later. For now, he settles for a little sound of astonishment.

His mind is more occupied with what she did just before that, having managed to buy him and Edwin more time on earth — together — via outsmarting a literal transdimensional being.

“Thanks,” he breathes out, shock still bouncing around inside him like a pinball. Niko might really be an angel, he thinks. There should really be a halo floating above her head, to match her inhuman kindness.

Edwin shifts beside him, “Yes, thank you, Niko.” His voice is shaky. Charles looks over, and Edwin meets his gaze. The sight alone could kill Charles a second time, if that were possible. Despite being back in his nice, unbloodied clothing, Edwin looks just as broken as he did on the stairs, with watery eyes and an expression of clear exhaustion.

He makes a face, which Charles realizes is a sorry attempt at a smile, and his heart aches. “And thank you, Charles. For coming to get me.”

Without saying anything, Charles makes a move toward Edwin, pulling him into the tightest hug he can manage. Edwin tenses for only a second, before he wraps his arms around Charles in return.

“Always, mate.”

Charles feels Edwin melt into him, like butter in a saucepan. His head finds a place to rest on Charles’s shoulder, as he releases an unsteady sigh.

And god, Charles means it when he says ‘always.’ He couldn’t live (figuratively speaking, anyway) without Edwin beside him, Edwin sighing in his arms, Edwin rolling his eyes fondly when he cracks a bad joke, Edwin solving cases with that clever brain of his. He wouldn’t be able to stand it. Maybe he would just dematerialize, or something.

He would go to Hell a million times, if he had to. He’d run up and down that staircase a million times and throw however many molotov cocktails it took to get Edwin out safe.

There’s not one thing he wouldn’t do to stay with Edwin.

Charles holds him a little tighter. He’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to let go. Hopefully Edwin won’t mind; it might be a little hard to solve cases this way, but they could make due.

They will have to, because Edwin is solid and real against him, and they are not in Hell anymore, and it’s all Charles ever needs. Since he died, he has not wanted Death or The Night Nurse’s Heaven. He found his thirty-four years ago, and it is greater than anything they could offer.

With mild difficulty, Charles manages to pull back just far enough to make good eye contact. Edwin’s eyes are gray and green and they hold the whole world in them; Earth, Heaven, and Hell displayed in hues fit for an angel, a holier trinity than anything the bible could ever fathom.

Edwin takes a shuddering breath, and Charles wants to cry — wants to go back in time and take Edwin’s place.

“I’m glad you guys are okay,” Crystal says, after what feels like years. Charles tears his attention away from Edwin in his arms, to look at her. He thinks he should probably feel bad for not allowing her to go to Hell with him, but it was no place for her.

No place for Edwin, either.

“Me too.”

Niko nods, “Me three.”

Charles cracks a smile. “Glad we’re in agreement.”

Edwin squeezes Charles’s arm tightly before letting go of him and taking a small, singular step backward, and Charles mourns the loss instantly.

They have time, thanks to Niko, he reminds himself. Literally forever.

He hugs Niko next.

[flipppyflopp]

“No sleeping in, not even on my birthday. There’s too much to get done to waste the day in bed.” 🎉✨

Happy birthday to my twst oc, Arlen Nox! I decided to do my spin on the new birthday card theme for Arlen even though they haven’t released a Diasomnia character yet, so Arlen might not match Silver and the others when they come out. Trey and Floyd were big inspirations for Arlen’s card from his to his pajamas. Specifically for his pajamas I wanted to incorporate Kingdom Hearts elements since Arlen’s main inspiration is Riku, so I tied in some dream eater references.

If you swipe you can see how Arlen spent part of his birthday as well as what presents he received from his friends. Below you can read Arlen’s birthday vignette written in a similar style to the new birthday vignettes, which guest stars the character voted as Arlen’s duo partner on Instagram…Silver! I hope you all enjoy and if you have any questions about Arlen, feel free to leave them in my inbox! ✨

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: Alright, I should be able to take these back to my room before track practice.

Arlen: Wait a second…who’s that lying on the ground up ahead? Are they hurt?

Arlen: Oh, it’s just Silver. I don’t have time to waste…but I hate to leave him in case he’s in a hurry to get somewhere too.

Arlen: Silver? Wake up, Silver. Now’s not the time to be napping. Silver! SILVER!

Silver: Huh? What? Oh, Arlen, it’s you.

Arlen: Yeah, sorry about yelling in your ear. You were sleeping pretty soundly.

Silver: Sorry for the trouble I caused. I appreciate you taking the time to wake me up.

Arlen: It’s fine. I was just on my way back from the post office and saw you laying there on the side of the path.

Silver: Post office? Not many students go there with all the technology available today.

Arlen: Unfortunately, I’m not the best with technology, so I go there quite frequently. Today, I was picking up a card my stepparents sent me.

Silver: A card? Were they congratulating you about your performance in the recent track meet?

Arlen: No, they sent me a birthday card.

Silver: Birthday? I’m terribly sorry if I missed it. Happy-

Arlen: Slow down, Silver, my birthday’s not until tomorrow.

Silver: Really? I apologize for getting ahead of myself.

Arlen: Quit apologizing, birthdays aren’t a big deal anyways. Just another day of the year.

Silver: Oh? Are you not a fan of big celebrations on your birthday?

Arlen: Not really? I don’t know, I just don’t understand the need to get so worked up about them. All you’re doing is getting older, what’s there to really celebrate?

Silver: Hmm. I suppose people just like to celebrate that you lived another year, uplifting your growth and the memories you made in that short span of time.

Arlen: Sounds about right, I guess. The best part’s getting to eat cake.

Silver: Really? I thought you weren’t a fan of sweets?

Arlen: Just ice cream, it’s way too sugary for my tastes. I enjoy cakes and pies just fine.

Silver: That explains Malleus’s initial reaction to you…

Arlen: Huh?

Silver: It’s nothing, just…hold on a moment, I just got a text from Sebek.

Silver: Oh no, I was asleep longer than I thought. I must be getting to the Equestrian Club. Farewell, Arlen!

Arlen: Bye, Silver.

Arlen: Guess I’d better hurry on myself. Chatting with Silver’s nice, but I can’t be late to practice or else I’ll have to run extra laps.

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: There’s nothing like a hot shower after practice.

Arlen: Speaking of practice, I need to write down my new personal best. Can’t believe I managed to shave off four seconds today. Maybe it’s some early birthday luck.

Arlen: The next track meet isn’t for another month, so I’ve got plenty of time to cut down more time off my personal best. I wish I could shave off some more time from our relay record, it could definitely use some improvement.

Arlen: Competing individually comes easier to me than competing as a group. When it’s just me, I only have to worry about myself. When I’m competing with others, I not only worry about myself, but I have to worry about the other guys as well. It’s a lot of trusting one another, which doesn’t come easily…especially in a school like Night Raven College.

Arlen: Luckily, Jack and Deuce handle their share of the relay just fine. Although, I wonder if by becoming closer it would shave off time for our relay….hmmm. Maybe I’ll treat them to dinner tomorrow after practice, they’d enjoy that.

*Bzzt*

Arlen: My phone? Who could that be? Oh, Soren wants to FaceTime. Sure for just a couple minutes.

Soren: ARLEN! What took you so long? It took you like three rings instead of two! What-

Arlen: Slow down, Soren. I just got back from showering after practice. I’m a bit sore today.

Soren: Oh, I see! Must be trying to beat my time from the track meet last week.

Arlen: Yeah right, you’re the one trying to catch up to me. Speaking of which, you’re going to have to work harder, I just shaved off four more seconds.

Soren: WAIT WHAT?! YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME! Kai won’t believe me when I tell him tomorrow.

Arlen: I could always send you a picture of my time as proof.

Soren: Ha ha, very funny. Laugh it up while you can, you’ll be eating my dust soon enough.

Arlen: As if.

Soren: Oh let me tell you what happened in class today! So I was sitting with Neige…

*Time Passes*

Soren: I couldn’t believe it when Chenya came out of alchemy lab with bright green hands.

Arlen: Well that’s what you get when you mix aloe and pixie dust.

*Knock*

Lilia: Arlen, it’s past lights out. Off to bed with you.

Arlen: My bad!

Arlen: Sorry, Soren, we’ll have to talk later.

Soren: That’s fine. But before you go, I’ve got one last thing to say to you.

Arlen: What?

Soren: Happy birthday, Arlen!

*Click*

Arlen: Huh? Is it really-

Arlen: We talked for that long!? So that’s why he kept flying through topics, just to get to midnight.

Arlen: Wait…

Arlen: Why was Lilia doing lights out checks so late!? What was he doing?!

Arlen: No use wasting time thinking about that. I’ve got to get to bed so I can get up early.

.✨✨✨.

Arlen: Time to start the day. It’s nice waking up early because the dorm bathroom is completely empty. Most people don’t get up at the crack of dawn like I do. Sometimes I run into Sebek or Malleus, which is quite the jump scare as Idia would say.

Arlen: Alright, quick shower then it’s time to head out.

Arlen: I don’t spend too much time on my appearance. Just combing my hair, brushing my teeth, the usual. No point spending extra time when it’ll just get messy from the wind later.

Arlen: Some guys go all out with makeup and hair products, but that’s just not my thing. Just some lotion will do just fine. Dry skin gets on my last nerve.

Arlen: Alright, next on my morning routine. Time to go get the feed from my room. I like being outside early, it’s a good way to clear my head. I feed the animals around the dorm while I’m at, might as well since I’m already out.

Arlen: I can see the birds waiting up in the rafters of the courtyard. They always wait up there, never getting close till I put the feed out…I hope they’ll grow to like me some day. Animals just don’t seem to like me, I get it though.

Arlen: Hmm?

Arlen: A little sparrow is hopping right in front of me? Want something to eat little guy?

Arlen: Huh? Another bird’s come down? A rabbit too? I haven’t even put down any food yet!?

???: Getting along with the animals, Arlen?

Arlen: Silver! That explains why the animals got closer than normal.

Silver: I’m sure they’re just finally coming around to you.

Arlen: As if.

Silver: You just gotta have more confidence in yourself. The animals can tell you’re nervous. Here.

Arlen: Huh? What are you doing with that bird? Silver, wait-

Silver: Just put your hand out like so and the bird will have a nice place to sit. Perfect.

Arlen: Silver, take it back before I hurt-

Silver: You’re fine, just breathe. See? It’s okay.

Arlen: …

Silver: Arlen? I’m sorry if I rushed you into-

Arlen: So what are you doing up so early? Doesn’t a sleepyhead like you snooze through the morning.

Silver: Usually, yes, but I had something important this morning.

Arlen: Really?

Silver: Arlen, happy birthday.

Arlen: Huh? Ha…ha ha ha!

Silver: What’s so funny?

Arlen: Something important? It’s just my birthday. You said that like it was the secret to saving the world from darkness or something.

Silver: It’s important to me. I wanted you to know your birthday mattered to me, so much so I wanted to be the first to say it.

Arlen: Really? That’s…really kind of you. Thank you, Silver.

Silver: You’re welcome, Arlen. I hope you don’t think that’s all I prepared, I also made some coffee cake in the kitchen for breakfast.

Arlen: Pulling out all the stops aren’t you.

Silver: Of course for a friend like you.

[ferg0s]

Barou starting a new relationship with a shy girl and how he would go about it

The literal personification of trying to mix oil with water

He was used to everyone looking at him in times of need on the field - he was the king after all - so he didn’t even notice how you would take a step back whenever it came time to ordering food, or any sort of public speaking and interactions.

He naturally took the lead, and you followed suit. Thanking the lord.

He honestly didn’t even notice how shy you were- he just kinda assumed you like hearing him talk. It wasn’t until he passed by an aisle of cute keychains and decided that he wanted to get you one when he realized… he kinda didn’t know anything about you.

I mean he did. He knew your name, your height…. The colour of your eyes…. And hair… and…

“So what do you do?” He asked bluntly as the two of you walked down a park, ice creams in hand. The one he ordered. “What?” “Hobbies? Sports? What do you do in your spare time?” He asked as he looked at you, determined to get an answer. “You know… the usual stuff-“ you awkwardly chuckle. “I don’t know actually.” He was a little shit about it.

But after literally interrogating you for an entire hour, he managed to squeeze out an answer from you. You were completely cornered by him, and you shyly tell him your hobbies. He looks dumbfounded, because to him those are completely normal and healthy hobbies for someone to have. He was starting to think you’re a grave robber by the way you were acting.

Knitting? He will get you the yarn, and parade a scarf you made for him and show all his teammates. Collecting something? He will always be on the lookout for what you like, even going as far as asking his teammates to be on the lookout as well. Video games? He will learn to play your favourite game with you. Cute farming sim? Silent hill? Niche indie game that only 3 people know about? You best bet he will ask for a 4 hour lore deep dive.

Very supportive.

Lwokey will get annoyed at your shyness at one point.

At first he thinks it’s cute, but he’s not the type of person to fully baby anyone, and will force you to order your own meal. He wants the best for you :(

Will say his order and look at you to say yours, watching you stumble on your words as you try to order some fries and a sprite. And will say he’s proud of you after. But doesn’t do it often because he can see the genuine terror in your eyes - only does it even it’s the two of you in line on a slow day.

Slowly learns to accept that you’re passionate in your own way. He’s loud and proud, whereas you like to keep to yourself. In a way he likes that you’re so open with him, that you let him see the stuff you don’t show other people. Thinks it’s adorable.

Will 100% try to make you more comfortable and less shy. You bought a new dress and don’t want to wear it, he will bluntly tell you it looks good and it would be a waste of money not to wear it.

Encourages your fashion choices. Polly pocket platform heels? He loves them. Bold lipstick? He will buy you earring that match. He quietly realized he liked seeing you happy. And you were happiest being yourself.

He’s not a big fan of grossly obvious PDA. Loves holding your hand or when you grab his bicep when you two walk together. You like it because it doesn’t draw unnecessary attention and he likes it cuz you’re always attached next to him and he doesn’t have to worry about actually loosing you. Plus he likes it when you grab his bicep.

Took forever to convince you to come to one of his games. You were too nervous to get into an arena with so many people - said you could come with a group of his teammates girlfriends - but you hated the idea of being with people you didn’t know.

He got really good at spotting you in the crowd. Didn’t matter where you were sitting, he just trained himself to see you. You were too shy to loudly cheer like everyone else, blending into the crowd due to that. But it didn’t matter.

In a weird way. He likes that hes the only one who gets to see you this happy, because hes the same with you. Slowly learning to take his guard down, be more open.

You’re learning to be confident while he’s learning to be trusting.

[aly4khq]

CHRISTMAS CHAOS

sum : rafayel and christmas

warnings : fluff, sassy!rafayel & wax burning + evol usage, edging, bondage, sex, belly bulge, praise, aftercare

rafayel who is the most dramatic person when it comes to putting up a christmas tree no matter what you do.

— "what do you mean these aren't sapphire lights?! it literally is!!"

— "no, it's some ugly blue and it doesn't match with my sapphire baubles."

— "...fuck you and your sapphire ornaments."

— "woah, that is highly offensive."

rafayel who put a smaller version of his christmas tree in the two corners of the bedroom just to the christmas spirit is in your room as well.

rafayel who reminds you all the time that christmas is near and he was something planned out for you.

rafayel who takes you for a ride to many christmas tourist destinations and attractions to get you prepared.

rafayel who gifts you many clothes and different christmas themed pyjamas to wear on christmas day, making sure that it fits you perfectly before purchasing.

rafayel who gifts you a present every day until the 25th, where he makes sure that you two have the best christmas together, on his balcony in the bedroom.

rafayel who makes sure that you wear the clothes he picked out, a beautiful crimson strapless dress that came up to your mid thigh, ruffles on the bottom, his intials on the belt that came along with it.

rafayel who has fireworks personalised to you that go of exactly on 00:00 of the 25th that spell out you and his names with a big love heart that had an arrow — that part that stuck out was the end of a sword to represent your swordsmanship and the other end was a paint brush with a dolphins tails around it to represent his art.

rafayel who ties you up naked and decorates you with many lights and designs, leaving a beautiful star on your head whilst holding a vibrator to your needy pussy.

rafayel who holds a wax candle to your chest in that same position once you were all decorated and burns the end with his single finger, watching the drops of red and green wax colour your smooth skin.

— "you're so submissive, are all humans this obedient?"

— "please?...mhm..."

— "please what?"

— "please touch me..."

— "i've touched you enough, maybe you need a break."

rafayel who makes sure to edge you until you feel like you're about to die if you didn't get his dick in you instantly.

rafayel who pressed on your stomach whenever his dick makes a bulge on your lower abdomen, shushing you when you cry out from it.

rafayel who fucks you ruthlessly after you beg, your legs over his shoulder, his dick lost in your pussy as he tells you how pretty you looked in those clothes he picked for you and how good you were for him.

— "you're gorgeous...that red really brought out your eyes..my pretty girl,"

— "rafa—hah! shit, you need to— you—"

— "shhhh...silly, you don't need to speak."

rafayel who goes for so many rounds until you finally become stupid on his dick.

rafayel who cleans up your dripping pussy with his tongue and fingers before leaving you alone for the night.

rafayel who gives you the best aftercare that you could've asked for; putting ointment on the small burns of the wax, massaging your muscles, fixing your messy hair, washing your face with a brand new cloth, giving you water (and food if you're hungry) and wishing you a merry christmas.

date made: 9/11/24

© aly4khq, i do not give permission to plagiarise, translate or copy my work

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

The Rivalry Born of Hatred-Jude Bellingham

The air was tense in the Santiago Bernabéu, the atmosphere vibrant as always when Real Madrid faced one of their most formidable rivals. But that night, there was a particular reason for Jude Bellingham to make the game even more interesting. It was not the match between Real Madrid and Barcelona, but a match between the two women’s teams, the stars of their respective rivals who were playing on the field.

Jude was sitting in the stands, with Vinícius and Mbappé by his side, but his eyes were fixed on you, who was coming out on the field with the Barcelona shirt. Your movements were powerful, elegant, impeccable. There was no doubt: you were one of the best players in the world, and despite Real Madrid courting you for years, you always refused, preferring to stay in Barcelona.

"My God, look how he plays," observed Vinícius, noticing that Jude’s eyes did not leave the field. " Who’s the one that keeps you glued to the screen like this?"

Kylian, who was also watching with curiosity, added: "Yes, it really looks like a war machine."

Jude, surprised by his own interest, rose slightly from his chair, his heart beating faster than he would admit. He didn’t understand why he was so fascinated by you. Not only were you a world-class player, but you were also his rival, the embodiment of everything he hated as a Real Madrid fan. Yet, there was something about you that attracted him irresistibly.

"I don’t care how good she is," said Jude, trying to hide her interest, "she’s the most hated player in our club."

Vinícius and Mbappé exchanged a look, smiling complicit. " Eh, but look she is looking at you too," said Vinícius with a funny smile, noting that you, in turn, had cast a sneaky glance towards the stands where he and his companions sat.

"Don’t say anything foolish," Jude replied, trying to hide a smile she couldn’t hold back.

The game continued, but Jude kept staring at you, admiring your agility, strength and determination. Every time you touched a ball, it seemed like time stopped. Your style of play seemed to convey an energy that he couldn’t explain, and he soon realized that he was paying much more attention to you than to the game itself.

When the game ended, and Barcelona won with a dominant performance, Jude couldn’t get you out of his head. His friends had noticed his gaze, and although he tried to minimize it, it was too obvious.

"You’re falling in love with her, aren’t you?" Kylian joked, laughing.

Jude, a little embarrassed, ran his hand through his hair. "No," he said, but his voice was uncanny.

That night, when they were in their dressing room, Jude’s thoughts were only for you. He hated you, or at least he wanted to believe that, but his heart and mind were in conflict. He could not tell if it was the rivalry that fueled his interest, or if there was something deeper going on between them, an attraction he would never have imagined.

"Guys, I know I don’t like to talk about these things," Jude began, speaking to Vinícius and Kylian, "but... what do you think of her? That girl from Barcelona?"

Vinícius and Kylian exchanged another look, aware of what was happening, and Vinícius, with a mischievous smile, said: "Oh, Jude... you fell in love with your enemy, huh? But we understand you, it’s hard to resist her beauty and talent."

Jude chuckled nervously, but his smile died when his teammates added: "But you know she’s a Barcelona player, right? It won’t be so easy."

[mer-acle]

i hold all the power (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Give me...

The big athena hcs

I desire knowledge and inspiration (evil laugh, evil laugh)

Haha

You kinda put me on the spot there. Not bc I don't have big headcanons but bc I'm like how do I phrase this without being like "here's the plot of that fic I wrote" yk? And now I'm unsure what constitutes a big headcanon... so I'm just gonna give you some more random ones and maybe you can help me out with what you were thinking of? (O.O)

For Epic specifically: Her owl form is a dark barn owl, bc they're really pretty and rare and have ginger feathers that match her hair

She dislikes Poseidon so much because he's so much like her father but her perception of him isn't softened by the love she has for Zeus.

Prometheus really saved her after Pallas's death. He kinda filled the void that losing Triton as a paternal figure had left more so than that of Pallas herself, but he took her along for his little creation projects (like the humans whoops) and they really match each other's freak. Yk. Until Zeus takes Prometheus away and definitely forbids Athena from visiting. I will literally murder him one of these days.

Speaking of Zeus taking people away, Athena was STRUGGLING after Pallas. Unsurprisingly, but still. Nobody but Hephaestus knows her from when she was still pretty openly mourning, they're all too young, and he never really asked why, but my girl was so depressed and lonely. She spend IRL HOURS in Quick Thought rewatching that battle and trying to figure out the moment where she went wrong. She knows Zeus intervened, but it doesn't matter to her, it's her spear, it's her kill. He was all like "for a nymph?" when she asked to take Pallas's name. "well, if you think that is a title worthy of your status..." It was her most open rebellion against his wishes for a while.

Her favorite domain is wisdom, but it's followed by crafting, not war. Don't get me wrong, she enjoys a good fight, but if she had to choose and wasn't worried about Zeus's opinion, she would choose crafting over war any day. The reason in my hc is how the domains are assigned, she was basically born with Wisdom, her powers are all about thought, and Zeus later assigned her with warfare which her powers work well with, but weren't technically meant for it. Meanwhile crafting is her "Passion domain" meaning her power in it literally stems from her intense enjoyment for creating. Imagine "What else can I do" from Encanto, but it's her discovering making clothes for the first time. The angst factor of this obviously being "My life has one mission, create the greatest warrior" Why is that her one mission? Is it the crushing weight of who she has to be?

My favorite bigger concept has to be her relationship with truth. In other words, Athena lies and manipulates her way through life, she is smarter than her father but knows he holds the power, so her council is whatever works in the moment, if she knows it's hopeless, she'll tell him what he wants to hear. Life has become a game for her, a game where she sells her soul for approval, bc she's lost those who loved her unconditionally, and can't trust those around her bc they're all trapped in the game with her, she doesn't want to be the favorite, she needs to be the favorite, it's the only way to survive, the only way for some semblance of safety and control, and yes, she gets along with mortals better than gods because they hold no power over her, they can't threaten the position she's worked so hard to achieve. Until Odysseus compromises a part of her that she hadn't thought she still had. Attachment never felt like danger with Pallas, but it does now, because what does it matter if you're more powerful when you respect the other person too much not to honor their wishes, should they tell you to leave them alone? If asked, she will have to leave, and that's terrifying (None of that would be overly conscious before My goodbye but for me, that breakup deep down always will be Athena being scared of her own feelings and trying to stop it before it goes too far and being at least 15 years too late.)

Woah that got dark lol I just wrote the last section and was like 👀fuck I am projecting SO bad. Like... gods I am so not okay. Jokes on me I thought I had headcanons all I have is trauma lmao

Anyways lol

Hope you liked it, and do let me know if you had something else in mind, I'll do my best :3

[exhaslo]

Kinktober Day 28- Miguel x F!Reader: Dirty Talk

Summary: Miguel wants to try something new in your relationship.

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, dirty talk

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

It had been over a year since you and Miguel had started dating. The two of you were nearly inseparable. The two of you had met at Alchemax and soon came to enjoy each other's company. The chemistry you shared was unique.

Eventually, you pieced together that Miguel was Spider-Man. Once that secret was out, there was not much holding the two of you back. You would help him with the best of your abilities, just as long as he was honest with you.

Miguel was a stressed man. You were happy to calm and ease his worries. Best way was with sex. Miguel had the stamina to go on for hours. You always joked that it would not help with stress, but Miguel always said otherwise.

Tonight...Miguel said that he wanted to try something new.

"You look exhausted, Miguel. Want me to set the bath first?" You offered as Miguel entered your place through the window.

"Not yet," Miguel sighed heavily, taking his mask off and embracing you with a deep kiss, "I would like to destress first."

"Hehe, such a brat," You teased, "So, what did you want to try?"

"Hmm," Miguel had his suit disappear as he hovered over you on the bed, "I'm going to say a lot of bad things, mi amor (my love). Just remember I don't mean it."

"Ahhhh, dirty talk," You chuckled, taking your pajamas off, "Want me to call you, Daddy?"

"Hn,"

Miguel grunted softly as he captured your lips in a deep kiss. His hands groping your body as he placed himself between your legs. You could feel Miguel's erection as he rubbed his dick against your damp panties.

"What a naughty girl. Already so wet and I barely did anything."

You shuddered towards his words, finding this rather exciting. Miguel being mean to you while having sex might be a good idea after all. Gasping softly, you arched your back as Miguel started to rub against you rougher.

"Aye, mi putita linda (my pretty little slut). Want my dick that bad, huh? Want to be my fuck toy?"

"Mhm, yes~" You cooed.

Miguel chuckled as he ripped your panties off with his talons. You gasped, glaring towards him.

"Miguel! I just bought those!"

"Did I give you permission to speak?" Miguel asked with a raised brow.

Leaning down, Miguel started to gently bite your shoulders. He knew he couldn't bite down fully or his venom would paralyze you. Perhaps that would be something for another time.

"Tell me what it is you want." Miguel demanded as the tip of his dick poked at your throbbing hole.

"Mhm..."

"Speak. What does my pretty little fuck doll want?" Miguel taunted, biting your shoulder again.

Who would have thought this was so hot?

"Your dick," You begged, shaking your hips slightly, "I want your dick."

You gasped as Miguel gave you what you wanted. He threw your legs over his shoulder and inserted his large dick into your pussy. You moaned at the feeling of being stretched out, ready for another long night of passionate sex.

"So tight. Just for me," Miguel groaned as he started to thrust his hips into you, "Tell me, (Y/N), what are you good for?"

"Ah~ Hah~ Y-Your dick!" You cried out, his fast pace already making a mess of you, "T-To please you!"

"Your slutty pussy belongs to me. See how well you're sucking my dick in? So fucking naughty," Miguel chuckled.

Your core started to burn as Miguel kept insulting you. His rough thrusts matching his harsh words, making you wet with each one. His grip was tight against your waist, making sure you wouldn't squirm away from his thrusts.

"Fuck, look at you. A horny mess. Tell me, you like how my dick destroys you, right?"

"Y-Yes!" You moaned, flinching as you felt your orgasm appraoching.

"That's right. Keep sucking my dick with these tight lips. You're going to drink every last drop of my cum, right (Y/N)?"

"Yes! Yes!"

Miguel's dick was abusing your pussy. His tip kissing your cervix as his balls slapped against your burning core. You felt his dick twitch inside you as your orgasm began to wash over you. Crying his name out, you moaned breathlessly as he unloaded inside you.

"Tired already? I'm no where near done with you."

--------

You were on your knees, face pressed against the pillow as nothing but moans escaped your lips. You lost track of time and the amount of times Miguel has cummed inside you. His pace was still ongoing, but you were losing stamina.

"Done already?" Miguel questioned with a slap of your ass.

"Hn~"

"Your pussy is still begging for more. Let me guess, you want to get pregnant, do you? To have my baby?" Miguel chuckled, his hips thrusting faster, "You better not spill anything after this load, (Y/N). Si lo haces, no tendré más remedio que convertirte en mi basurero de esperma. Convertirte en una madre muy pronto. (If you do, I'll have no choice but to turn you into my cum dumpster. Make a mother out of you really soon.)"

You couldn't even understand what Miguel was saying. All you felt was your body give into one more explosion of pleasure as you saw stars. You swore that this was the moment you entered heaven, since you couldn't think anymore.

Miguel panted heavily as he held onto you for a moment longer. His dick finally falling limp after cumming inside you again. Slowly pulling out, Miguel was careful to lay you down. You body twitched as you slept soundly.

"Aye, my lovely (Y/N)." Miguel whispered, kissing your head, "You spoil me too much."

Getting the shower ready, Miguel returned to retrieve you. His eyes wandered your body, admiring his work. So many of his marks on you. Focusing on your cunt, Miguel's lips twitched into a smirk as his cum started to flow out of you.

"I owe you an apology after this," He chuckled, carrying you into the bathroom, "Perhaps after I get you pregnant."

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

Hope you enjoyed!!!

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

[romancecroc]

Lucanis (This is a bad idea, pt. 1)

Hello, hello. I felt like re-writing some of the Lucanis romance scenes (I treat them more like one-shots). Here's the "this is a bad idea" scene:

Rook had the tendency to just flirt with everyone. Whatever was happening, whoever it was. Some might call it confidence. But honestly, it was rather the very solid belief that nothing was going to happen anyway. So why not have some harmless fun?

Maybe it was because she never considered herself sexy. The word felt weird. She’d been called funny! Humorous. Witty!

But sexy? Not really. Every time somebody made a move on her, the nerves took over. Forget matching the alluring energy - all that came out of her mouth was a joke. And a nervous giggle after.

Which is why she was currently freaking out. Just a little bit.

“Nothing I’m seeing makes me want to look away” just flew out of her mouth. Lucanis had just expressed shame regarding the second Spite incident.

She didn’t realise she was expressing her thoughts out loud. They somehow got out. Her crush was supposed to remain hidden - and now it sounded terribly obvious. Almost like a confession. 

But that wasn’t the problem.

She said all kinds of things all the time.

The problem was the reaction.

Lucanis didn’t laugh it off. He didn’t roll his eyes about how silly that comment was.

He was looking right at Rook. Something… shifting in his eyes. 

And that really freaked her out.

“How do you do it?” Lucanis said, breaking the temporary silence with a low voice. 

“Do what?” Rook responded, almost coughing between her words. She leaned against the pantry wall, trying to shrug it off. 

Whatever she was seeing must just be her imagination. There’s no way.

“Break apart my perfectly gathered clouds of doom.”

Any attempts of disbelief started to crumble.

She looked at him wide-eyed. If it wasn’t obvious then, it was now.

Oh shit, she thought. Is this actually happening? 

“You deserve better than to deal with my mess.” he finished, holding Rook’s gaze.

A million responses were brewing in Rook’s head. All the wrong kind, of course.

I’m a professional janitor. I’ll go out of business without a mess!

I’m cleaning up the blight. Surely I can clean you up as well!

But for once, she could hold them back. Aware that they could sound insincere. After all, he was being honest with her.

But her silence was interpreted as a rejection. Lucanis lowered his eyes to the floor, slowly taking a step back.

“You’re more-” Rook finally blurted out, taking a step forward to maintain their previous distance. She instinctively grabbed his arm to make sure he didn’t step away any further. Her face was warming up too.

Now his eyes were widening.

“You’re more than what you’re going through. And I think you wear it well! Incredibly, if I’m honest. You’re amazing after all.”

There was a pause.

Rook finally realized she was still holding on to his arm. Within seconds she let go of it and glued herself against the pantry wall again. Almost like looking for shelter to hide her embarrassment. And her blushing face.

Speaking from the heart? Being sincere? It felt like her entire body was being pulled apart from both sides. She still couldn’t believe all the things she’d said out loud.

“Anyways, I’ll leave you be and-” Rook said, calming herself and closing her eyes. She could walk out like this. As long as she didn’t maintain eye contact, she wouldn’t have to witness his response.

But then she could hear steps. Walking towards her.

She slowly opened her eyes and by the time she could fully comprehend the scene, Lucanis was standing in front of Rook. Slowly leaning against the wall himself, towering over her.

He was so close, she could feel his breath against her skin.

“Rook… You like to walk a little close to the edge.”

The way he spoke her name almost sounded like a growl. He also made sure to maintain eye contact.

Somehow whatever thoughts he had were very visibly expressed through his eyes.

“So do you.” Rook responded, slowly gaining the courage to gently tap against his vest.

“You know this is a bad idea…” he whispered, slowly leaning in closer. 

“Sometimes a bad idea is better?” she chuckled quietly, mirroring his movement. Her hand resting on his cheek. Inching closer.

And then a flash of purple gleamed through his eyes. Any closeness broken apart by Lucanis stumbling backwards, grunting while holding his head in pain.

“Lucanis!” 

Rook rushed in to keep him from collapsing. After a few seconds of head shaking, the purple faded away - his eyes turning back to normal. 

“I… need to clear my head.” Lucanis muttered in a self-defeating tone, grabbing his gear from a cabinet.

There was an awkwardness hanging in the air. But Rook figured Lucanis had more pressing matters on his plate.

Whatever… this was, it could wait. Or maybe it was just a temporary moment?

“Rook.” Lucanis said, interrupting Rook’s train of thoughts.

Before she could respond, he had reached for her hand. Raised it. And then gave it a gentle kiss.

“Thank you again for checking in on me.” he said with a warm smile, bowing slightly and then headed out.

She stood there for a few minutes. Until she finally regained control of her legs, walking back to her room as if in automated mode. Barely containing the smile on her face.

[tamands]

"ya te he dicho tres jodidas veces que alejes esa mierda de mi cara" espeta completamente agotada de que su negativa no fuese respetada por staff del festival "¿estás buscando que te golpee?" detiene a transeúnte "ve, decórale a la cara a esta persona ¿no te apetece?" le consulta sin demasiado interés en la respuesta, más bien sacarse de encima la mera idea de llevar glitter en el rostro.

[hinamie]

itakugi sillies fr the soul

[tamands]

tamara tom anderson . 21. hija menor de los anderson . mecánica anderson

˜”°• holding the matches •°”˜

[icarusredwings]

At first he ignored it.

The jealousy piling up in his stomach.

He first noticed it when Wade electrocuted himself while changing the lightbulb in the kitchen to a mucb softer purple color instead of the harsh yellow that "made his skin look terrible" and lit the good candles. The ones that were new and smelled good, not from the dollar store and smelled like your grandma- No offense Althea.

Sure, Wade has done those things for him too- well... not change the light but he's lit candles and made him a mediocre dinner that would score a solid 5.5 out of 10 if he were to rate it. The extra 1.5 was from sheer love alone. He could taste it when he ate the food- so why did it seem like he loved her more?

He was trying so hard for her. For everything to be perfect. And it was like this almost every time, even if they were off and on, everything was always perfect.

Yes, He did something similar for him when they first got together a few times, but.. after that, it dialed down. He stopped changing the light. He stopped lighting the good candles. He swapped the homemade dishes for takeout. Sure, Wade danced with him in the kitchen but this wasn't the same.

Yeah, Wade gave him preformances while making breakfast or cleaning the house, but this felt more personal. Rehearsed. Reserved for someone who wasn't him.

Now, don't get me wrong, he loves Vanessa. No where near as much as Wade but she was genuienly a good person, caring, understanding, very pretty, and a bad ass for being able to put up with Wade for so long- without any regeneration powers. How the hell did he even bag her??

He wondered how long it took the stab scar on her arm to heal. How many times Wade break down apologizing for becoming spooked. How long until he would allow himself to sleep in the same bed as her again, punishing himself for hurting someone he loved.

When he saw him take the spoon, he couldn't help but watch as Wade put on one of the cringest performances that he's ever witnessed. Like a 20 year old frat boy who was trying to get a girl to let him hit, except the look in his eyes was genuine. He loved her more then life itself. And he knew it.

He acted so young around her. Suddenly, he was barely old enough to drink and fell in love with the first stripper he met at the club. Like T-Pain falling head over heels for a bartender, so excited and infactuated with her simply for treating him with human kindness.

God.. It reminded him of how he was with Kayla..

He watches as he holds her wrist, putting his chin on her crossed legs for a moment and slid down to his knees like the little weirdo he was. It made her giggle. Hell it made HIM giggle.

He wasn't sure how or where Wade got all this charm, but it worked a bit too well, but the smile on Vs face, looking at him as if she could tell how he was feeling, how her eyes invited him to join them but he was far too nervous. This was THEIR date afterall. He was only here because he lived here and had nothing else to do tonight.

Not like Wade minded, but he felt like he was intruding for being here.

"-Guilty feet have got no rhythm!"

Logan snorted, speaking before he could even catch the words on his tounge. "You never had any to begin with!" He teases.

At first, he worries Wade will be upset with him. Will scold him for ruining their date. Would tell him to leave.. but he didn't.

He only sprung up, giving him a sassy hand on his hip as he waved the spoon. "ExcUSE me!?"

Logan smiled, that small bit if jealousy going away, burning up like paper in the house fire of his heart that was lit ablaze by the playful attitude.

Oh, he missed this more than he realized. Starting trouble, play fighting with someone who matched his energy without becoming too upset by his growly demeanor.

"I can do more than waltz, you know." He tells him, glancing to Ness for consent to bud in. She gives him a quick nod as he takes Wades attention from her, attempting to try to dance with him but he pulls his hand away.

Right. Wade didn't dance with anyone else to this song. This song was Nessys. And he was okay with that.

"Oh, yeah!? Like what? Square dance?!"

"What's wrong with square dancing!?" His head tilts, furrowing a bit. Since when was square dancing outdated? Man, he really needed to catch up to the decade. Everything changed so fast that he never knew what was acceptable and what wasn't anymore. What dances were considered "too old" and which were "cool"

He lets go of him for a moment, letting Wade change the song, Madonna's 'Like a Prayer' "Wolvie! It's our song!" He squeals, waves his hands happily, shoves the pasta spoon back into the pot then took Logan's hands.

Yeah. Their song. A happy grin comes to his face as he's grabbed.

"Can you swing?"

"S-swing??"

After struggling, swinging around, and Wade getting his toes broken a couple of times, Logan took the lead, deciding to spin him instead, smiling as Wade giggled, only to scream when dipped.

"Don't drop me!!"

"Im not going to drop you!" He reassured him, about to cover his mouth when he heard Vanessa laugh, uncrossing her legs and dropped down.

"Not infront of Nessy!"

"Oh shut up, i'm not going to embarrass you infront of Vanessa-" he turned to her, whispering "I so am"

She laughs again in the way that makes him grin like a little kid, the way her eyes looked at him as if asking to but-in their sorry excuse of a dance, but he wasn't sure who she wanted to dance with until she smiled at him.

"Neeeeesssyy this is supposed to be OUR date! Logan!" He whines drimatically on the like between playful and serious.

"What? It's not my fault your game is weak." Logan teases him, giving her a playful nod, putting his hand out for her to take "Ma'am."

And that's how he got here. In the kitchen, brow raised while Wade snatched V back from him, holding her with a pout. One not so playful.

At first he worries that he messed up. That he flirted a bit too much, made Wade uncomfortable, became the third wheel...

Again.

The third that they wanted to play with but not actually love together.

Logan was used to that. Used to being played with and then scolded by the other partner when they found out about their playing.

So he stands there. Waiting to be yelled at. Waiting for Wade to tell him to stay away from Vanessa.

But it never came. Instead, Wade held her waist, tight, putting his chin on her shoulder, giving an upset look to him. "I thought you wanted to dance with me?"

"...What?"

"We were dancing, and I wasn't done with you!" He complained, now squeezing Vanessa a little more. "And you! You have to wait your turn! He's mine." He tells her, making V laugh, snorting, giggling from the hand placement on her sides.

"Yeah, okay, tough guy. He's yours. And you're mine. So I get seconds, don't I~?" She coes, reaching a half up to hold his cheek with that sexy smirk of hers and pretty siren eyes.

Swallowing, Wade noded quickly. "Yeah- Anything you want- I mean.. Of course... j-Just-" he glances between the two of them. "Stay here. I have to go make a fool of myself."

"Don't you do that already?" She sighs, happily leaning against the counter as he comes to Logan. "You know it, baby!! Hit it Christiana!!"

Ness can't help but laugh when Logans eyes widened, a deep blush coming to his face.

He says, as next on the playlist proceeded to play "Genie in a bottle" by Ms. Aguilera.

Yeah. He wasn't jealous anymore...

Thinking about Wade is having a stay-in date night with Ness, and this means the kitchen light is traded for a colored one, candles, half burnt pasta, cheap wine, and Careless Whisper blasting throughout the appartment complex.

He starts off with some cringy dance while V is up on the counter, rolling her eyes and smiling, but she can't help but feel like there was something different about Wade. Yeah, she knew this dance. She knew the routine of his 'serenade' and his littlw two step slow dance he had going on, making backup sound effects for Mr. George Micheal and eventually grabs the pasta spoon, singing into it.

This is not new, but.. something was. She couldn't put her finger on it but she knew her boyfriend. She knew him well enough to become engaged to him, break up with him, and start dating again.

It was like he was glowing.

But why?

"Tonight the music seems so loud! I wish that we could lose this crowd-" His non existsnt eyebrows wiggle, and Vanessa can't help but to almost spit out her wine.

"Maybe it's better this way, We'd hurt each other with the things we want to say!" He shouts into the pasta sauce covered spoon, leaning into her a bit as she rolls her eyes again, looking up at the ceiling. She knew what Wade wanted. He wanted to "earn" her with his performance.

God.. he really is her peacock, wasn't he?

"We could have been so good together! We could have lived this dance forever!" Taking her arm, He pulls her waist closer to him, connecting their foreheads with those pretty heart eyes of his beaming into hers with such love struck gleam.

"But now who's gonna dance with me? Please staaaayy~" He sings loudly, letting her go enough for V to notice that Logan is now staring too, the same lop sided love struck small smile on his face.

"And I'm never gonna dance again- Guilty feet have got no rhythm!!" He says, dropping onto his knees and arching his back, using her hand to keep his balance.

"You didn't have any to begin with!"

She hears, looking up to see Logan smirking as Wade jumps to his feet. "ExcUSE me!? My bad, not everything is a waltz, old man! Like seriously, when's the last time you could do anything but a simple one two three? Lincoln's wedding!?" He calls over the counter and Logan grunts, his joints popping as he gets off the couch.

Wades eyes widden with dangerous excitment as he turns to her. "Oh now, im in for it!"

"Damn right. I can do more then Waltz, you know."

"Oh, yeah!? Like what? Square dance?!"

"Whats wrong with square dancing!?"

Then it clicked.

Him.

That's what was different about Wade.

Logan had changed him. Unconsiously, for the better. He was so... Happy. He was like a missing puzzle piece to complete Wades purpose of being, mirroring what Wade needed, even if that meant insulting his dancing skills mid date.

Grinning widely like a moron with a crush, he changes the song- Wade was serious. He would never dance with anyone else except V to that song ever again- Pushing next on their shuffle only for Madonna to come on.

Squealing, he waves his hands, shoving the pasta spoon back into the pot then took Logan's hands. "Can you swing?"

"S-swing?- Woah!! Hey!"

"You wanted to dance so were dancing!"

"I didn't say that!"

As she listens to them bicker, she laughs as she watches Logan awkwardly step on Wade's foot multiple times.

"Ouch!! Hey! I'm regenerative, not indestructible! You're like 400 pounds!!" He teases, and the blush on Logan's face is something she wants to take a picture of, watching as he tries to teach Wade how to 'properly dance', spinning him around, holding his wasit and dipping him at certian parts.

"Ahh!! Don't drop me!!"

"I'm not going to drop you, Stop screaming!"

"Ness!! He's gonna drop me!"

She giggles, giving Logan a playful finger wag. "Hey do you mind? He needs all the braincells he can keep!"

"Yeah! Cancer already ate half of them!"

"Oh, sssuurree, just the cancer, definitely not how many times youve made me shove my-"

"Lo-Lo!!! Not in front of Nessy!!" He whines, being spun again.

"Oh shut up, i'm not going to embarrass you infront of Vanessa-" he turned to her, whispering "I so am"

"I HEARD THAT!"

"What? It's not my fault your game is weak." Logan teases him, giving her a playful nod, putting his hand out for her to take "Ma'am."

She laughs, hearing Wade suddenly complain that he wasn't supposed to be stealing his date.

"Maybe she wants to dance with a real man-" Logan coes, gently taking V and spinning her too... Vanessa could see why Wade liked him.. he was quite strong. And a gentleman.

"My gender blindness has NOTHING to do with this!" Wade whined in a high-pitched tantrum like sound, grabbing her waist and pulling her into him instead.

Oh great. And now they were fighting over her.

Gosh... Maybe she has two Peacocks...

[emypony]

twitter won't get this but i know y'all will

the felis erasure in regards to the concept arts is criminal how dare you

[spoocys-glade-of-dreams]

Rayman listened to Cliff's story, and he reacted in shock when he heard about the recordings and the photos.

"Wait. You've been following us? Taking pictures and videos? You weren't one of the paparazzi I had to chase off when I was still the voice, were you???"

Rayman would take a moment to compose himself. He didn't like the idea that Cliff had practically stalked them like that, but at the same time he understood the reason why he would do that. He wasn't going to hold that against him.

The mention of the trenchcoat guy and Ellie urging him to tell Cliff the truth would cause Rayman to take a moment to brush his hair back with his hands. He would begin to speak in the lower, gruff tone, and would change his expression to match more with the Ramon alias.

"Is this what you meant by "trench coat guy?" Ramon's an alias I use when I want my identity kept secret. Mostly when I'm doing work for Murfy or I just want to be left alone by the public. Why don't we go inside before I talk about the rest of that story?"

Ramon would urge Cliff to go inside the house. Once they were in, he made sure the door was shut before he would continue.

"When I was fired, I had a bad mental breakdown and murdered the board of directors. I broke Bullfrog out of prison and that's when I moved into Ellie's apartment. I didn't feel safe staying at my penthouse anymore. Some time after I moved in, that fake they got to impersonate me broke into our apartment. I have reason to believe they may try to come after Ellie again.

It's why we moved in with Murfy and the rest of the household. Power in numbers. It's safer there. Knowing that bug, he'd be able to detect when something goes wonky with the power if that fake tried to pull that again.

I'm still Rayman, even with this look. Our roommates know I'm very prone to breaking character around Ellie in casual environments. I'll just have the hair back and I'm still that cheery face everyone knows me with."

@spoocys-glade-of-dreams

"She's quite charismatic isn't she? Not to mention, she grew up to be a beautiful young lady. We've been looking out for her from this dimension, but as I was mentioning to Globox, it's a very complicated situation. My wife is at the store right now getting groceries for everyone's stay, so we'll explain everything once she gets home."

"Rayman...I'm aware of who you are. Before you started dating my daughter, I had mixed feelings about you...because...well...your Eden's poster boy. I wasn't sure what kind of person you really were because Eden is a terrible place. Either Eden was forcing you to do something against your will while lying to you behind your back or you were aware of their true colors but chose to work with them because you shared your beliefs."

"Seeing you out with my daughter was not only the first sign that she was still alive after her disappearance, but she looked very happy. If my daughter is happy, then I'm happy and so is her mother. I had taken a few pictures of you two while you were out. But then there was this trenchcoat guy which I took video footage of. So I thought you two broke up and then got back together after Ellie dumped the trenchcoat guy."

"By the way, I'm Cliff. Despite knowing about who you are, I'm happy to meet you as well. I can tell you care a great deal about my daughter after what you just said and that's something I greatly appreciate."

"First of all, he was The Voice of Eden and then he got fired and was replaced with a clone of himself. Second of all, Rayman and the trenchcoat guy are the same person. Go on and tell him honey."