#I would say this is my favorite scene from tws

[joonberriess]

teeth. ☆ j.jk

⋆ TAGS — ghostface!jk, breaking in, TW: non-con to dub-con (oc does NOT consent verbally even if she does participate hence the dub-con), brief knife play, cunnilingus, degradation, misogyny(?), objectification, blow jobs, brief face/skull fucking, fuckin in the woods, unprotected sex, nasty talk by jk, possessive!jk, hints of kidnapping/captivity, fear play, facial, jk is lowkey yandere, iconic what’s your favorite scary movie scene but my style, DEAD DOVE, slight praises, ass n coochie worship cause jk is a ass man certified LMAO, cheerleader!oc, college setting

⋆ WORD COUNT — 4.2k

⋆ now playing: teeth - 5sos ⋆

“Color me your color, baby, color me your car, color me your color, darling, I know who you are,”

The music blared loudly, you hummed under your breath while lining over your lips with a dark lip pencil. The hour was getting closer and you realized you had to speed things up if you wanted to meet with your friends on time (you had been stuck in your cheer uniform ALL DAY). You moved around your room quickly while tossing articles of clothing onto your bed, no outfit in particular on your mind.

You uncapped the red lipstick and ran it over your lips slowly, filling in the blank spaces and blending the two colors to perfection. You decided a white long sleeve tucked into your mini jean skirt would serve as a perfect combo. If you were lucky, maybe that cute college senior Kim Seokjin would give you his jacket to wear. The idea has you smiling like a dummy.

Before you can slip out of your skirt the phone downstairs begins ringing loudly. You could have very well ignored it but you don’t feel like listening to your parents nag at you for not picking up the phone if it happens to be them. “Ugh, seriously.” You mutter and quickly run downstairs to the kitchen.

“Hello?” You softly sigh while twirling a piece of your hair around your finger.

“Hello,” some guy’s deep voice greets you, he says nothing else and you tilt your head in confusion muttering a soft ‘yes?’. “Who is this?”

Immediately you frown in confusion and balance the phone between your ear and shoulder, “Who are you trying to reach?” You pop a piece of chicken from your mom’s leftover casserole into your mouth.

“What number is this?”

“Uhh..what number are you trying to reach?”

“I don’t know.”

You hold back a deep sigh and check the time behind you on the clock, you really don’t have patience for this nonsense. Especially for some weirdo who’s either prank calling or just doesn’t know how to work a phone. “Then you have the wrong number,” you eat another piece of casserole, “it happens, take it easy though.” You hang up quickly before he can utter another word to you.

You had just set the phone down when it began to ring all over again, “Ugh…hello?” You stare at the decorative ceiling in annoyance, “Hello?” You say loudly when the other person doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

“Why don’t you wanna talk to me? Just wanted to apologize, ‘s all.” He says with a teasing lilt, but it sounds more condescending than anything, “Just wanna..get to know you.”

You ignore the nasty little shiver you get down your spine when he talks to you like that, a deeper part of you is literally drooling over how this guy’s voice sounds but too bad he’s a weirdo though.. Your gut twists uncomfortably as your eyes dart to the side to look out the patio doors. “Okay..well you’re forgiven now, bye.” You go to hang up.

“Wait–if you tell me your name I’ll tell you mine.”

You can’t help your scoff, “Yeah, right. I don’t think so, why the hell would I give you my name? You sound like a total creep right now, you know that?” You huff and open your fridge up for a drink, “Besides, what’s your deal anyways? You keep calling and I’m obviously not who you’re looking for.” You complain while uncapping a bottle of water.

“Because,” he calmly starts, “I wanna know who I’m lookin’ at right now.. Pretty red lips and a tight little uniform on,” he draws out huskily.

You immediately go still, “W-What…how do you..?” you look around the empty kitchen and living room. “This isn’t funny.” You quickly head down the hall to the front door, making sure the locks are set before you go back to the living room and make sure the patio doors are locked as well.

“Never said it was babydoll.” He muses, “Though I do gotta admit, red looks spectacular on you, wonder if you got more around here in your drawers.” He trails off, the sound of drawers slamming close and another opening could be heard on the other side of the line.

You wait with a bated breath listening carefully, you slowly turn your head to look up at the ceiling. There’s a low thumping noise that follows the sounds you hear from the phone. Your eyes slip shut as you try to control the sob that’s about to come out of your throat, “What do you want from me?” You croak in a tiny voice.

“What’s your favorite scary movie sweetheart, hm?” His footsteps are heavy as he starts walking around upstairs in your room.

You blink your tears away and stumble towards the hallway to your only escape route: your dad’s office. “I-I don’t like any scary movies,” you whimper quietly, “p-please, I don’t wanna die.” You sniffle. You can hear him humming in the hallway upstairs now, causing you to duck into the office as silent as you can.

“That wasn’t my question. Time’s ticking babydoll, I’m not exactly a patient guy you know.”

“H-Halloween..!” You whisper-yell, “I like Halloween.”

“Which one?” He asks, you can hear him loud and clear at the bottom of the staircase, “Hm?”

You sniffle softly and back away, “Rob Zombie’s version,” you utter softly and hear him pause in his footsteps. He stands there for a few seconds before he slowly draws nearer and nearer. Your eyes squeeze shut as a terrified whimper escapes your lips, before you can plead with him the door slowly creaks open and a hooded figure stands in the doorway with the phone held up to his ear. You stare at him, the phone slipping from your trembling hand as it slams to the floor with a loud thud.

He tilts his head to the side and raises his gloved hand to wave at you. “Hey there sweetheart,” he purrs from under the mask.

You scream out in fear and knock over the desk chair, you’re lucky as hell your dad has a set of patio doors himself. You slip through the doors and run down the small hill, looking back and forth in time to see the hooded figure chasing after you.

The sounds of leaves crunching and branches snapping fill both sides of your ears. Adrenaline kicks in like never before and has you running the fastest you’ve ever moved in your entire life. If you can lose him in the woods you’ll make it to your neighbors’ in five minutes tops, might even get lucky if you detour to the main road but the hill to climb up will only slow you down.

“Don’t be like that babydoll!” He calls out from your left? Right? You don’t know where his voice is coming from, and quite frankly you’re too scared to look. You hear his heavy footsteps (now) directly behind you before a hand tangles itself in the back of your uniform top, gripping it tight as he stops you from going any further.

The force itself is enough to send you flying to the ground, knees scraping hard against a tree stump. You break your fall with your hands, crying out from the pain that erupts in both palms as tiny twigs and rocks dig into your soft skin. “Gotcha.” He chuckles and squats down to your level to admire your bruised form. You must have gave him a run for his money with how hard he’s breathing under the mask.

“P-Please!” You crawl backwards, back hitting the tree stump, “I don’t wanna die,” you pathetically cry, “I promise I won’t tell anyone if you let me go.” Call it cliche but it was worth a shot to plead with your killer? Stalker? You don’t know anymore.

He tilts his head, “Heard that one before, you’re not the first to beg so sweetly like that babydoll. Almost melts my poor little heart,” he coos mockingly, “but don’t stress your pretty little head over that, you’re not meant to use that brain of yours—meant to sit and look pretty for me.” He purrs and reaches out to run a gloved hand over your dirt stricken thighs.

You curl away and try to escape his touch, “Why are you doing this?” You whimper quietly, watching as his hand rubs circles over your bruised knees. A tremor runs down your spine as his leather gloves run over your shaking thighs, his touch feels scorching hot despite the cool material of his gloves pressing against your skin.

“Been watchin’ ya for a while,” he murmurs, “night n day—just imagining allll the different ways I could have you. Bet you’d look pretty with a mouth stuffed full of cock, wonder how pretty you’d look with cock deep inside your little cunt baby,” he trails off while giving your thigh a rough squeeze, “always did wonder how that pussy tastes.” You can practically picture the shit eating grin he must have under the mask.

You hate that his nasty words have a bubbling heat building in your lower stomach, it shouldn’t be that arousing to you yet here you were in the middle of the woods being fondled by your stalker while he talked about how much he wanted to fuck you. His voice even sounds hotter in person vs the phone.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He chuckles.

You land a harsh kick to his arm with a loud, “Get off of me!” You quickly turn over to stumble to your feet while he curses under his breath and stands to chase after you.

He’s not so gentle this time with the way he snatches you and slams you right up against the tree trunk, letting the chips and splinters bite into your skin unforgivingly. “Thought we were over this,” he growls, “was gonna treat you nice and sweet but by the looks of it you just wanna be tossed around like the filthy little slut you are,” he hisses in your ear while pressing you tight against the tree.

You whine loudly and push back against him in an effort to get him off of you, “Let me go—let go!” You growl angrily, “you’re a fucking psycho creep!” You grit your teeth while trying to turn to look directly at him.

He doesn’t shy away from hurting you to get you to become docile again. He pins both wrists behind your back in a tight grip, squeezing both of your hands until you hear a low threatening pop. A pained little whimper escapes your lip as he forces your head against the bark, “You gonna sit still like a good girl or do I have to tie you up?” He growls menacingly.

“I-I’ll be good!” You cry out as the pain starts to become unbearable.

“What was that?” He whispers in your ear, “Couldn’t hear ya.” He smirks.

A quiet sob slips from your lips as you slump over in defeat, “I-I’ll be a good girl.” You softly reply, too hung up on the pain to reply with the unbridled anger you feel right now. “Just please—let me go.” You sob.

He ignores your cries and instead brings out a rather intimidating looking hunting knife, it cuts into your skin almost right away with the slightest little touch. “Please no—” You immediately begin, thighs shifting as they slide against each other in an attempt to block him from either cutting or stabbing you. The only thing you achieve is the blade running into your thigh and slicing a small line downwards.

“None of that now babydoll,” he whispers while letting your wrists go and setting his big hand over your hip, “just sit still and look pretty for me yeah? Don’t need to think, just feel.” He breathes out as he guides the knife up your skirt, letting the sharp tip (which you noticed was slightly curved like a hook or something) hook under the side of your panties.

Your poor heart hammers in your chest as you begin to hyperventilate, “W-What are you gonna do to me?” The blade tugs at your panties, no doubt already piercing through the flimsy little material.

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper from behind, “You’re driving me fuckin’ crazy you know that?” His tongue clicks in annoyance as he suddenly yanks the knife down, a loud riiip following in suit, as well as your terrified scream/sob. “Gonna have a taste now babydoll, put your hands right there—yeahhh, good girl. Keep ‘em there baby,” he has you bending over with your legs spread wide apart and your hands over the tree, “ ‘s like a fuckin’ dream back here, fat little cunt n a nice ass.” He whistles while smacking his hand against your poor cheek.

You bite your lip as the cool air fans over your moist cunt, at this point in time you have long given up making any excuses as to why your pussy was drooling for this weirdo. Still didn’t mean you were less scared but you figured if you complied the faster things would go over. “Look at this slutty pussy, already leakin’ like a bitch in heat. Does a scary man like me chasing you through the woods get you goin’ sweetheart? Maybe you’re a little more fucked than I thought.” He chuckles.

There’s a brief pause and you wonder what he’s doing back there, so you turn your head to look at him when you gasp softly. He has the mask thrown off to the side, his face in all his glory—messy black hair and a lip ring with an array of piercings on his ears— he sits there with a shit eating grin, “Guess the cat’s out the bag huh?” You eye him with distaste before turning back around, you had at least hoped he was ugly or something.

“God,” he groans, “can’t get over this ass,” he mutters to himself while smacking both cheeks and pulling them apart to expose both of your holes to him, “wanna see it wrapped ‘round my cock, gonna have you squirting and messy babydoll. Might even have to get you on your knees to clean up your mess,” he whispers as his hot breath fans over your pussy lips, “you’re gonna be lookin’ at me with those sweet little eyes of yours too, gonna bust my load all over that pretty face of yours.” His tongue dips between your soft folds, licking from your winking hole down to your swollen little clit hiding under its hood.

Your eyes squeeze shut as his hands steady you by the hips, his face is practically smushed against your cunt as he slobbers over it with his greedy tongue. He sucks on your inner folds, getting every nook and cranny as he slurps up the mess he leaves behind before lapping over your clit with his tongue. Your thighs shake a little, you’ve never had anyone this eager to eat your cunt out like this. He’s a fucking menace and you hate how good he is at this.

“Fuck,” he pants softly, “can’t get enough baby, could eat this pussy for days.” He all but moans while latching on to your clit.

A shocked cry leaves your lips, you dig your nails into the tree bark and hold on tightly as your swollen bud throbs in his mouth. He doesn’t let up, suckling on your clit like a lollipop with just the right amount of pressure around the bud. A new wave of slick gushes from your untouched hole, loud mewls and whines leaving you as you subtly rut back against his face. It’s pure heaven.

He spreads your cheeks apart and pulls back to harshly spit on your cunt, “There you go, get nice n wet for me babydoll.” His hot breath fans over your empty little hole, “Good girl.”

You shouldn’t like the way he’s talking to you, but something about him calling you that has a delirious little whimper leaving you. He dips his tongue into your pussy, the sensation definitely welcomed as you sigh in bliss. His tongue wiggles around and curls upwards to brush over your sensitive walls in a flicking motion.

He jiggles your ass in both hands, moaning at the sight of the fat slipping through his fingers from his tight grip. He flicks his tongue back and forth over your swollen bud, you nearly double over as his tongue traces letters on your clit. “W-Wait,” you bite your lip as your eyes shut and you reach behind you to tangle your hand in his hair.

You freeze when you realize what you’re doing, but instead of getting angry with you he leans into your touch with a low moan. Clearly he loves it so you keep your hand in his hair, occasionally pulling just a tiny bit. When he pulls back to catch his breath, audibly gulping as he sits back on his haunches, “Turn around.” He says breathlessly.

From behind you can hear him shuffling around, the sounds of a belt being unbuckled fills your ears. “On your knees babydoll,” he rasps out while fisting his cock, sliding his thumb over the mess of precum he’s made at the tip of his cock. He’s watching you with dark lust filled eyes as you slowly fall to your knees in front of him, eye contact never wavering.

“Shit—when you look like that you make it harder for me to hold back.” He groans while licking his lip, “Exactly how I imagined you’d look.” He purrs as he brings the head of his cock to smother his precum over them, “Stick your tongue out for me baby—there you go, just like that.” He grins softly.

You lay your tongue flat under his fat cock, delighting in the delicious weight over your tongue. You can’t help but flick the tip of your tongue upwards causing it to brush over a throbbing vein. He releases a quiet hiss, fisting the shaft as he roughly slaps it against your tongue in repeated taps.

“Will you look at that, ‘nother little filthy slut we got here, how many other cocks you sucked huh?” He pushes into your mouth and holds the back of your head with one hand tightly fisted in your hair. You gag around his cock and fruitlessly claw at his thighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t take it? Poor baby can’t handle having a cock stuffed down her throat? Pathetic little thing you are, can’t even do what you were made for,” he rasps out while rolling his hips against your face.

His balls press snug against your chin as spit and drool dribble from the corners of your mouth. Your tears run freely no doubt ruining your makeup for the night, you probably look a hot mess right now. Your stalker moans and pants freely above you, he doesn’t bother hiding how good he feels right now as his cock twitches occasionally. You really lose it when he forces your head down and keeps you still, pelvis pressed right up against your nose as he rolls his hips in quick grinds.

“Oh shit,” he breathes out, “feels so fuckin’ good babydoll, knew you were the one when I first saw you.” He whispers out while slipping his cock out of your mouth, relishing in the gasping noises you make, “Gonna make you into my little cock sleeve, don’t need you doin’ anything else..belong with me right on my cock.” He shoves himself back into your mouth and begins fucking into your throat roughly. You cry and gurgle while weakly slapping your hands over his thighs. He doesn’t let up and only fucks your throat more eagerly.

“Fuck baby, c’mere,” he yanks you off his cock and brings you up to him.

He doesn’t waste time bending you back over the three and shoving his fat cock into you. You let out a loud cry and dig your nails into the tree from the pressure and slight twinge of pain from the size of his girthy cock. It sits nice and snug against your walls, curved slightly upwards to press into your g-spot, not quite hitting it but brushing over it.

“Oh fuck,” you whisper out as your toes curl from inside your shoes.

When a couple more seconds pass of him just idly rocking into you, he pulls all the way out until only the head remains before slamming back in with a loud slap. You jolt in pleasure as a tiny scream escapes, he doesn’t let up and keeps the same harsh pace he started with. His cock punches deep into your pussy, poking at your cervix painfully as you yelp out in pain between your moans.

“Fucking hell,” he moans out while moving his hands from your hips to your bouncing tits, “got a nice little pussy n a pair of pretty tits just for me right sweetheart?” He slaps one of your tits before taking your pebbled little nipple between his fingers and meanly pinching it.

“Mm!” You arch your back and try to twist away from his bruising grip. He manages to grip your other tit and knead it in his big hand.

Loud squelching noises fill the space around you in the woods, some of your slick even drips down onto the ground with tiny wet splats. The sound is filthy and has your face burning up in embarrassment as you hide in your hands with low whimpers and whiny moans. He suddenly changes the angle and begins grinding his fat cock right up against your g-spot, pressing insistently as he hits it over and over again.

“Oh you like it there don’t you sweetheart,” he grins while rolling his hips in slow circles, “go on then, fuck yourself on my cock like the little whore you are. Get that pussy nice and soaked for me.” He growls quietly in your ear while pinching your nipples once more.

A quiet squeal erupts from your throat, you shakily manage to knock your hips into his in a sloppy pace. “Please,” you slur out as your eyes slip shut, “c-can’t do it,” your pace is nowhere near the same as before.

“Can’t what?” He moves one hand down between your thighs, “Hm?”

You press your forehead against the tree bark in defeat, sobbing quietly as you wiggle your hips side to side, “ ‘s not the same, need you to f-fuck me.” You shamefully admit.

“Like this?” He slaps his hips upwards, “Or like this sweetheart?” He purrs and begins plowing into your drenched pussy, stuffing his cock deep inside with every thrust.

You throw your head back with a loud moan, “Yes, yes!” More drool begins slipping from your chin as you part your legs a bit wider and arch your back.

He swears at you from under his breath while rolling your swollen clit between his fingers. The sounds of skin slapping against skin begin louder, his balls collide with your swollen puffy folds and your ass ripples from his pelvis from his harsh thrusts. “Little fucking slut,” he grits out through his harsh punishing thrusts, “fuckin’ mine you hear that? So help me you ever think of looking at someone else I’ll fuckin gut them like a fish n fuck you over their dead body.” He hisses, “Better yet covered in their blood.” He roughly smacks your clit.

You mewl loudly and go still, your pussy pulses like crazy as you feel your orgasm hit you at full force. You cum with your clit trapped between his fingers and his cock stuffed deep. The orgasm is so strong it knocks you off your feet as you wobble and shake like a newborn lamb. “P-Please,” you sob out.

“On your knees,” he growls while slipping from your drenched cunt, “fuckin’ look at me.” He aims his cock at your face and strokes himself with loud slick noises. You stare up at him with a dazed expression, too fucked out to reply. He cums with a low moan, making sure to coat your lips and face with his cum as he taps the head against your cheek, “Fuck…” He sighs in bliss while lazily flicking his wrist.

You blink slowly and the last thing you see is him picking his knife back up.

+

Jungkook hums under his breath while he lazily digs through his bowl of popcorn, he’s been switching channels for a couple of minutes now. Nothing good is ever on these days, he rolls his eyes and shakes his head while flicking through the channels.

“Oh,” his face lights up in joy, “baby come look at this,” he grins and turns the volume up all the way high, “found somethin’ perfect for movie night.” He turns to look behind him, eyes wild and filled with sadistic joy.

“She was last seen Friday in the evening by her parents who were only going a few towns over to visit family. Her friends have all stated she was supposed to be meeting them that night but never showed, one even said they had spoken to her hours prior about their plans to meet. They said she wasn’t acting suspicious or anything—”

A muffled sob erupts, the sound of a cage rattling heard next as Jungkook slowly turns to look at your cowering form. You look so adorable all curled up in the cage like that, mascara streaking and lips wiped red from your lipstick. “Don’t like that movie?” He pouts, “Pity.” He turns back around and replays the entire missing persons ad.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @gukiebaby @babycandy111

[halloween m.list]

[schtrawberry]

[4] personal astrology observations

[!] this is mostly an introspective view into my chart; in no way, shape, or form am i saying that any of this is fact or set in stone, nor am i saying that i am a professional astrologer. these are just presences that exist within my chart that i've felt manifest themselves in real life. simply put, take what resonates and leave what doesn't :)

─ having your moon and ascendant in the same sign 🤝🏽 having every single emotion flash on your face, clear as day, at all times

═ sun in the tenth house 🤝🏽 indicator of doing well in your career or being able to advance in your career more easily than others

☰ on that note, mercury in the tenth house can also indicate being able to advance in your career because of the way you speak or how well you speak in a professional setting. individuals with this sign can also be recognized in the workplace for how well they speak and communicate.

☱ individuals with moon in twelth house may find themselves dwelling in the past more than most. the feeling of nostalgic makes them both happy and sad at the same time.

[personally, this manifests itself in me being able to constantly go back to specific moments in my life where i could've made a different choice, where i could've said yes to a specific opportunity, where my split decision could've prevented something monumental in my life from happening, and just overthinking the hell about how different my current situation would be if i did or did not. lots of angst and nostalgia in this sign tbh. it's hard, i know.]

☲ having moon negatively aspecting venus can indicate a late-bloomer in relationships. one might be more likely to find themselves in a serious relationship much later in life compared to others. this may be because the individual could be less likely to pursue romance on their own and would rather be approached first by a potential love interest.

[i can personally attest to this. at the ripe old age of 23, i have never been in a relationship before (or even a fling). from personal experience, i find that this is mostly out of fear of rejection (maybe coupled with my fear of being known but who really knows).]

☴ the taurus juno urge to show love and care through cooking— whether they're good at it or not. be it making their loved one breakfast in the morning, buying them a thoughtful snack or baking them their favorite dessert; a taurus juno is intrinsically tied to food in how they express their dedication and commitment to the one's they love most.

☳ a few asteroid notes:

note: asteroids are less impactful to one's personality, physicality, etc. compared to personal planets. they tend to only be relevant to one's chart if they are either in a tight orb (0-1°) or have major aspects to personal planets, preferably conjunctions or oppositions.

✢ kalliope (22), known as the chief of all muses, goddess of eloquence, and muse of epic poetry is the eldest of the nine muses. her name translates to "beautiful-voiced" from the greek words "kallos" and "ops". having this prominent in one's chart can indicate being known for having a beautiful voice, whether it be in terms of singing, public speaking, or just in general. someone that can attract positive attention from others simply through their voice, even to the point of possibly becoming someone's muse for it.

✢ [tw: r***] peitho (118), the personified spirit of seduction, persuasion, and charming speech, was the handmaiden and herald of the goddess aphrodite. interestingly, one striking depiction of peitho is of her fleeing from the scene of a r***. she was known to protect women from r*** and was known to flee from scenes of r*** when she was unable to intervene. peitho’s gift was pleasure for words and bodies, and she would be enraged when such pleasure was violated in any way.

i feel that this energy, when prominent in one's chart, can manifest itself in a girl's girl— a protector of women and advocate for consent. and while this observation does lean into the darker side of peitho, on the lighter end, this energy does also stand for using one's gift in speech and voice to seduce and charm others whilst also using it to stand up for women in unconsenting situations with men.

[`] film: love & pop (1998) dir. hideaki anno

last / next

[prod-ddeonu]

UNDER THE COVER | s.jy

MDNI! MDNI! MDNI!

pairing: librarian!Jake x fem!reader

cw/tw: librarian!Jake, badboy!Jake, smut, fluff, mentions of assault and sa, drugs, sex in a public building, pet names, praise, face fucking, masturbation, kissing, mentions of murder (one line)

synopsis: Love was never your goal, preferring to keep your nose in a book while sitting in an isolated corner of your favorite library. But then you met Jake Sim: the quiet librarian who wore sweaters and button downs, the man who treated every book like a treasure, the man that you felt was perfect for you. You knew better than to judge a book by its cover, but who would have known your quiet library crush was the exact opposite of what you'd expected?

featuring: jay and sunghoon (iconic bffs!)

wc: ~6.9k

PART 2

Buy me a Ko-fi!

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon stretched his arms above his head as he dramatically groaned.

Jay nodded, his notes every shade of the rainbow from his color coded highlighting method of studying. “You can say that again,” he capped the red highlighter and put it behind his ear.

“Finals are kicking my ass, man,” Sunghoon repeated, laughing when Jay threw the yellow highlighter at him.

The two turned to you, your head falling as your eyes began to shut. “Y/N!” Jay shouted. Sunghoon pressed his finger against his mouth and shushed him. “Piss off, Hoon. We're in a soundproofed study room,” Jay sneered.

Your head shot up, hands flying into the table to catch yourself. “The proper function is forty-four,” you mumbled as your eyes opened. “Oh, sorry. I had a dream I had already taken the final,” you rubbed your eye with your wrist.

Sunghoon put his hand over your forehead. “Y/N, if you don't sleep enough, your score’s gonna be a forty-four,” he said, his tone laced with worry.

You smiled, pinching the bridge of your nose. Sunghoon ran his hand over the ponytail you held your hair in, bringing the hair over his head. “Jay, you think I could work long hair?”

“I don't even think you can work basic algebraic equations,” he scoffed. Sunghoon frowned, sitting back upright.

He looked at his notes before groaning in agony. “I'm done for the night, guys. It's, like, seven at night and I'm tired,” he whined.

“Yeah, I think I'm gonna head home, too. You coming, Y/N?” Jay asked as the two stood, packing their notes and pencils.

You shook your head. “No, I'm gonna get a little bit of reading therapy in,” you smiled, thinking of your favorite character.

The two boys looked at each other with a raised brow. Sunghoon wiggled his at Jay, the other returning the action to create some sort of impromptu language. “Are you sure it's therapeutic reading?” Jay asked tenderly.

“Or is it ‘I wanna fuck that hot librarian’?” Sunghoon finished the point, sliding onto the table in front of you.

Your ears turned red, the mental image Sunghoon painted making you sweat. The two burst into laughter, clapping loudly and pointing at you. “She totally does! Y/N has a crush!” Jay shouted.

You slapped your hand over his mouth. “It's soundproof in here, not a solitary confinement cell! They can definitely hear your walrus laughter!”

Jay faked shock, slapping his hand against his chest and holding the table for support.

Ignoring him, Sunghoon leaned his elbows against the table next to you. “So, whatcha likin’ about this dude?”

You squeaked. “I- um-”

Jay returned to his position on the other side of you, his hand on your shoulder. “Is he loud, badass, smokes a lot of weed and parties all night, muscle tees and ripped jeans, maybe a print-”

“Alright, alright!” You shouted. “Remind me to put some soap in your mouth, Jay,” you wagged your finger in his face. He snapped his jaw at you, following your finger. “He's the exact opposite, actually. He's quiet, really kind, he’s not into the party scene, he doesn't wear anything too showy-”

“So he's just like you?” Sunghoon interrupted, pulling the edge of his sweater onto his shoulder.

You nodded, a cheesy grin coming over your lips. “And how do you know all this?” Jay raised his brow. “I doubt you've hung out with him.”

“I can just tell,” you sighed dreamily. You kicked your feet underneath you in excitement.

Sunghoon rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes. Because you read minds.”

Jay clicked his tongue at you, crossing his arms. “Y/N, did nobody ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” He asked. “What if you get your hopes up, and then you find out that he's some rager that breaks your heart?”

You shook your head. “I don't think so, he seems pretty genuine from the way he looks.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes playfully again, “Delusion is one of your few flaws, Y/N. Your other one is reading for fun.”

You sat with your knees against your chest in a small corner of the library. The seating arrangement in that corner was a long, wooden bench that wrapped around the corner of the room. You liked to sit against the corner, your back to the wall and feet facing the shelves in front of you.

In the book you were reading, the main character had gone out with her boss in order to escape her manipulative boyfriend and catch him cheating. Her boss was icy, tall, and young. You'd barely managed to catch it, but it seemed that he was younger than her. The main character was a happy woman who let her naïvety get the best of her, which her boss had helped her get past.

You were in the scene where her boss confesses to her, but you weren't sure where the story was going. He told her he was falling in love with her, which she reciprocated, but he was holding her so close, and the word “heat” and “member” kept appearing in sentences.

You saw a shadow loom over you, shading your book from the light. A large hand rested on top of the book, tilting it back. “Are you enjoying the book so far?” A deep voice with a thick accent asked.

You nodded, not looking up. “It's really good, I'm just a little confused as to what's happening. I don't know who this member is and why they're so hot, but it doesn't make sense for her to be kissing them and not the main guy,” you rambled.

The person let out a deep chuckle. “Cute,” he said under his breath. “This is my favorite part, actually. If you don't know what all of that means, though, maybe you should skip that scene. It's not really important to the plot, anyways,” he continued.

The dim light above you bounced off of his rings, his long finger tapping on the spine of the book lightly in a fidgeting manner.

“I want to know what it means,” you sighed. “Can you explain it to me?”

When the person didn't respond, you looked upwards. Your breath caught in your throat as you squeaked.

The librarian you'd been harboring a secret crush on stood above you, his mouth slightly agape and his cheeks pink. His eyes grew wider with shock the longer you looked into them.

You turned back to the book, your eyes not really reading any words. “I can figure it out myself, sorry,” you whispered.

The man scratched the nape of his neck, a shy laugh leaving his lips. “No, it's okay, that scene is just…”

“Just what? Confusing?”

“Just not something you'd want a stranger to explain.”

“If you love the book, though, wouldn't you be good at explaining it?” You asked, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

He took the book from your hands, folding the corner of the page you were on and closing it. “Let me go check this out for you. I'll tell you at the counter, then you can read the rest at home, ‘kay?”

You nodded, willing to do anything he suggested. He walked you to his counter, scanning the book. “That scene you were reading is probably one of the most well-written sex scenes a reader could ask for,” he casually commented, smirking when you covered your mouth. “You can Google the words you don't know, but tell me if you still enjoyed the book when you return it!”

He placed the book in your bag, waving to you and leaning against the counter.

You sound around, mouth open to speak. “Name’s Jake, by the way,” he smiled handsomely at you, nodding his head up once. “I was gonna introduce myself to you properly, but you kinda jumped the gun on that one, miss sex book girl.”

You blushed, looking away in embarrassment. “You don't have to call me that,” you barely whispered.

“Yeah?” He poked his tongue at his lip with a teasing smile. “What can I call you, then?”

“Y/N,” you looked at the floor before spinning around and walking to the door.

Jake waved behind you, a smile still prevalent on his face. “Have a safe night, Y/N,” he called out behind you. “Hope you enjoy your book!”

Oh, you enjoyed that book alright. With Jake’s words looming in your head, and a trusty Google search (turned out, member did not mean another character), you finished the book with a foggy mind and a whole lot of nervous swallows.

Jay and Sunghoon sat across from you at your local cafe, your bag on the table and notes strewn about. “Hoon, I think you should change majors,” Jay sighed, his palm against his forehead.

Sunghoon chewed his straw nervously while the other reviewed his notes and practice exam. “Why? I thought I was good with my pre-med stuff,” he grabbed the paper from Jay’s hands.

“‘What do you call a row of stitches holding together the edges of an incision?’ was the question, Hoon.”

He looked it over. “I don't see what I did wrong.”

You peeked your head up from your notes, reading the question. “You wrote ‘satire,’” Jay deadpanned. Sunghoon cursed under his breath and erased the answer, writing suture in its place.

“Could've sworn I put suture for that,” Sunghoon mumbled. You pat his back reassuringly, a small frown on his face. “I think I'm just burning out, I've been studying all of this for so long. Jay, gimme your card, I'm gonna go buy us a round of espresso.”

Jay swatted Sunghoon’s reaching arm away. “Dude, no! Use your card, I'm not rich,” he scoffed.

“Oh my gosh, Jay, please,” you whined. “I'm so tired, I barely slept last night.”

Jay’s brow flew to the top of his forehead, the corner of his lip lifting. “Is it because of a certain librarian you stayed late to see?” He lightly punched your shoulder jokingly.

You held your shoulder and cried out in pain dramatically. “C’mon, Jay, you owe her now,” Sunghoon waved his fingers at Jay to make a grabbing motion. Jay sighed, rolling his eyes and giving the card to him. “First round’s on Jay!”

Sunghoon skittered off to the counter to order the drinks, leaving Jay to interrogate you further.

He scooted his chair closer to yours, his arms folded over his chest. “So,” he started, “what's the reason you were up all night?”

You squeaked nervously. He laughed, placing his hand over yours softly. “I was reading a book Jake said was good,” you almost whispered.

Jay shot backwards into his seat, letting out a loud gasp of shock and earning concerned stares from the rest of the customers. You shushed him, to no avail. He spun in his chair, calling out to his friend. “Hoon! Hoon!”

Sunghoon turned to face him with a scowl. “What?” He mouthed.

“She got the hot librarian’s name!” He shouted, not caring whose morning he disturbed.

Sunghoon ran out of line, sliding back into the chair across from you and resting his hand against his chin. “Soooo,” Sunghoon dragged out, “what's his naaaame?”

You shrunk into your seat. “It’s, um-”

“It's Jake!” Jay shouted, leaning over the table.

Sunghoon and Jay brought their hands together, ooh-ing in a high pitched tone as they wiggle their fingers. “Anything else happen? Did he hold the door open for you?” Sunghoon swooned at you.

You shyly laughed. “No, he just told me to read this book,” you blushed, pulling it out of your bag. “He told me what some of it meant, and it really helped!”

Jay flipped the book open to the folded corner, reading a paragraph quickly. He closed the book, furrowed his brows, reopened the book, re-read the paragraph, and turned to you, pointing at the pages as he let his mouth hang open. “He told you what this meant?”

You nodded, blushing. “I was a little embarrassed, but he was super nice about it,” you crossed your ankles and swayed slowly.

Jay shut the book and slid it into your bag, Sunghoon reaching in and pulling it out as he turned.

“Y/N, my dearest, sweetest, bestest friend,” he placed his hand on your shoulder with a smile. Suddenly, his grip turned hard, squeezing into your collarbone. “HE IS FLIRTING WITH YOU!” He seethed.

You swatted his hand away. “Then what do– ow, that actually hurts still– I do?”

Jay peacefully made a tent with his hands against the table. He blew his bangs out of his face, the brunette pieces flying upwards. “You go back there, and you ask him out,” Jay smirked evilly. “And then, you come back and relay everything to us.”

You nodded, saluting and grunting in comprehension.

Sunghoon gasped loudly, causing you and Jay to whip your heads to him.

He slammed the book against the table, scattering Jay’s highlighters and your pencils. “THIS IS A SEX BOOK?!” He shouted.

You blushed while Jay put his hand to his mouth in order to stifle his laughter. Sunghoon slowly turned to you, disgust apparent on his face. “You're such a nerd you read porn?”

“Hey, man. She reads it for the plot,” Jay snickered.

After your embarrassing exchange with your friends, you went back to the library to return the book (and stare at Jake). You held the book in front of you, sad to part with it. Jake had opened a door to a new world that you'd never heard of: the world of erotic romance books.

You blushed at the thought of the genre being his favorite. Swinging the door open, you took in the scent of paper, dust, and the slight hint of lavender you always caught when you walked in. Your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting.

Jake scanned a book at the counter for a woman, his long, black hair being accessorized by his usual pair of round, metal-rimmed glasses.

You watched silently from in front of the door as he performed such a melancholy task in such a charming way. The sleeves of his blue pullover came to the edges of his palm, his white turtleneck beneath covering his skin. You watched his pouty lips curve into your favorite smile, a slight wink being thrown to the older woman.

The woman slipped the book into her bag, giggling and walking towards the door. Jake’s eyes met your own, a happy wave being sent your way.

You felt yourself begin to melt at the sight.

You waved back, walking towards where he was standing. You placed the book into the counter as he smiled at you. He laughed lightly. “Guess it wasn't your cup of tea, seeing as you're bringing it back the next morning?”

You shook your head, “The opposite, actually. I finished it all last night, I just couldn't put it down!” You smiled.

Jake raised a brow, putting his elbow onto the countertop and resting his chin in his palm. “Yeah?” He asked with a thick accent. “What made it so enjoyable?”

This is the flirting Jay was talking about, you thought to yourself.

You bit the tip of your tongue, looking around the room in thought. What could you say to add to the flirting? You hadn't been in a serious relationship in years, you had little to no current experience.

“I guess I really liked the main character's chemistry with her boss,” you smiled at him, “and how he had a different side to his character that he only showed her.”

Jake nodded, leaning back and rocking onto the heels of his feet. He slid the book across the counter with a low whistle escaping his lips. “You're the first person I've met that tried to find something romantic in this book.”

You mentally facepalmed yourself. “Is that not what I was supposed to do? The writing was really good, I just-”

“Hey, hey,” he laughed. “Don't worry your pretty self over that, I think it's cool that you didn't just admire the smut aspect of the book,” he scanned the barcode on the back cover and placed the book onto a cart.

“I did enjoy that part a little, it just felt awkward to read,” you lied. You actually re-read that section of the book three times after finishing the book.

Jake’s tongue swiped across his bottom lip to wet it with a smile. He walked around the counter, pushing his book cart in the direction of the young adult section of the library.

You turned to walk to your usual corner of the library, ready to surrender this golden opportunity to your awkwardness. You took a step forward, spinning back around quickly as Jake coughed.

You made eye contact as his mouth opened to speak. “Can I have your number?” You blurted out.

Jake’s mouth shut with squinted eyes. Rejection.

“Can you read my mind or something?” He asked.

You shot him a confused look, a toothy grin splayed across his face. “I was-” He cleared his throat nervously, “I was just thinking about how I wanted to ask you to hang out after I close up, sorry if it came out weird.”

You felt clouds lift your feet, making them take even steps before landing in front of him with your phone out. He chuckled as he put his number into your phone. “Doesn't this place close late, though?” You asked.

He nodded. “It closes at nine, but if I'm being honest, fun never really happens until after dark.”

You laughed, thinking he was joking. He was not.

He shrugged, continuing to push the cart. “Just text me your address, I'll pick you up. I'll make sure it's a date that you'll never forget,” he smiled.

Your heart soared. It raced. It pounded. More importantly, it stopped. Time stopped. “Date?” You squeaked out.

He laughed, his ears turning red. “Yeah, I figured it should be a date. Don't wanna waste a good time with a pretty girl like you, y'know?” He scratched the back of his neck.

You nodded eagerly. “It's a date! What do I wear?”

“Just some comfortable clothes, you don't have to do much to impress me. I'll be wearing what I usually do, anyways,” he placed a book onto the shelf, examining the next book.

You walked to the cart, grabbing a book from the other side. “I know it's not very romantic, but can I help you put away the books? It might help you close faster,” you smiled.

He pulled the cuffs of his pull-over off of his hands. “I find it very romantic that you want to do the most boring part of my job with me, actually,” he joked.

That same lavender scent you would get hints of came flooding your senses as the two of you worked closely. You closed your eyes, taking a long breath. Jake smelled like lavender, and god, it made your knees weak.

Jay and Sunghoon, although strongly against the date, showed up to your place at seven sharp to help you get ready for it. “I mean, what kind of guy asks a kind and unsuspecting girl to go out after nine?” Sunghoon asked as he curled your hair.

He looked up into the mirror, eyes locking on yours. “A sex offender,” He released your hair from the contraption, waving the wand in the air as he spoke.

Jay groaned as he laid different outfit combinations across your bed. “For the tenth time, Sunghoon, he wouldn't be able to work at a public library if he was a registered sex offender!” Jay tapped his toes in thought before throwing a red shirt of yours onto the growing pile of clothes on your floor.

“Maybe he's not a sex offender yet,” Sunghoon replied, “but our little Y/N could end up being the body they find in the ditch.”

You sighed as Jay struggled to not throw a hard object at his friend. Sunghoon and Jay had been going at it since they arrived, Sunghoon erring more on the “worried mother” end of the argument.

“Sunghoon, stop worrying so much. He's super cute and sweet, he probably just wants to watch a movie or something,” you smiled.

Sunghoon clicked his tongue. “Let's recall what he said. ‘Wear something comfortable’, because tight clothes cause you to bleed out slower. ‘A date you'll never forget’, because you'll be dead by eleven.”

“‘I just want to have sex with you and then send you home at four in the morning,’” Jay commented. “You make it sound like she's going out with Michael Myers. Don't forget, Hoon, she already agreed to share her location with us in the groupchat.”

Sunghoon rolled his eyes, running his fingers through your curls. “So we'll know what corner of the road her body ends up on, but what about her head?”

“Oh, God, you're going off the deep end,” you pressed your hand to your forehead.

You stood from the chair, doing a small twirl for the two. You had already done your makeup before the two arrived, but you were a lost cause with fashion and hair.

Jay clapped, his lower lip jutting out in an impressed expression. “Wow, Hoon. Maybe you should drop out of college and become a hairdresser,” he commented, earning a threatening jab with the hot iron from Sunghoon.

You unplugged the appliance, taking it from his hands and carefully placing it down. Jay held a shirt and skirt to your body, nodding for the other man to look at the combination.

Sunghoon patted the man on his back, a smile on his face. “See, if I had to send my only daughter off to possibly go missing, this is the outfit I think she'd want to go in.”

You walked out of your door at exactly a quarter past nine, Jake’s text message reminding you of a drunk message from Jay.

Hey um he uh, um out sigh in the blocker period sore we eve this cumster you we're, um using speech to text period

You figured it translated roughly to, “Hey, I'm here, I'm outside in the black car. Sorry if this comes to you weird, I'm using text to speech.” You just couldn't figure out where cumster could've come from.

You giggled as you sat in the car. Your purse clinked loudly with the pepper spray, pocket knife, seatbelt cutter, lockpick, whistle, and body reflectors Sunghoon wouldn't let you leave without.

You closed the door, turning to Jake. You audibly screamed when you saw the man in the front seat. He jumped, looking into the backseat and out of every window. “Shit, Y/N, what's wrong?!” He shouted, equally as scared as you.

You looked at him in disbelief. “Jake? Is that really you?”

The man who was sitting next to you was wearing a black wife-beater and baggy jeans with large tears at the knees, a small book pendant hanging off a gold chain. His body, now uncovered by layers of clothing, was covered by layers of ink. He had a paw print on his inner arm, the name Layla written inside of it, along with many music tattoos and smaller symbols across his arms and chest.

You looked down, noting that it seemed even his legs had art on them. His eyes followed yours, a small gasp leaving his mouth. “Oh, yeah. Guess I forgot to mention all that,” he smiled. “They're everywhere, but they all mean something.”

You looked up at him, your eyes wide. You may have painted him as a modest man, but you'd be lying if you said the Jake in front of you didn't make you feel butterflies. “They're pretty,” you commented, reading the tattoo on the side of his neck.

“Love is a great beautifier.”

Jake self-consciously ran his hand over it. “It's from Little Women,” Jake smiled softly.

“I love that book,” you commented, continuing to admire his look. His hair had fallen messily over his forehead, his glasses seeming to have disappeared.

He sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Me too, actually. It's what got me into reading,” he looked forward as he put his seatbelt back on. “Look, if you find that I look too weird like this, I can put a jacket on or something-”

“No! I like it, actually. You look… good,” you blushed as you put your seatbelt on.

Jake reached his hand under your chin, lifting your head to look at him. “Look me in my eyes and say it again,” the corner of his lip lifted. “I want to see you say it, don't hide your face from me.”

You mumbled, “You look good.”

“I'll take it,” he smiled fully, throwing the car into drive and pulling into the road. “Just know, I don't let pretty girls hold their tongue around me.”

You looked out the window in an effort to hide your nervousness. Jake turned his radio on, playing a band you didn't know.

He started humming along to the song as it got closer to the chorus. He had a beautiful voice, which only added to your nervousness.

“Where are we going?” You asked, noticing a familiarity in the direction he was driving in.

He tested his elbow against his center console as he drove with one hand. “I figured I could take you to the library after hours, y'know? We'd be alone but it wouldn't be like you didn't know the place. I can show you my favorite spot, too.”

You shot a glance in his direction. “Jake, isn't it closed?”

“Yeah, and?”

“As in, we can't be there?”

“Yes we can,” he smiled.

You rolled your eyes. “If you're trying to break into a building, I think we should call this off.”

“Relax, sweetheart,” he laughed, his accent shining through, “it's not breaking in.”

“Entering with a key doesn't count.”

“It does when you own the place,” Jake pulled up to a stop light, wiggling his eyebrows at you before laughing loudly. Your jaw was to the floor, an unreadable expression in your eyes. “I've never made it obvious that I owned it, because it was given to me by my grandmother when she retired, but I've owned it since I moved here. My cousin opens the place on weekdays while I go to college, but I close every night and spend the whole weekend there.”

“You'd have to live there to pull that off,” you rolled your eyes.

“I do,” he responded. “My place is right next to it.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Of course you're handsome, funny, good at singing, and you own a business.”

You felt his hand land on your leg, his fingers tapping rhythmically to the music. You turned to him, your eyes trailing up his arm. “You can continue,” he said with a shit-eating grin.

You lightly hit his arm, pointing to the road. “Light's green,” you turned to hide your blush.

Jake walked you into the familiar building, a small smile on his face as he pulled a projector from the office room. “Come and sit down, pretty girl,” he plugged a handful of cords into the device and turned it on.

You walked past the nonfiction shelves to see pillows forming small seats on the floor, a basket of movie snacks and drinks in the middle. Jake had thrown some last minute fairy lights into the mix, wrapping them around the seating area and putting some candles on the ground. “Jake, this looks amazing.”

He sat on a pillow before laughing and motioning to the other. You ran over, sitting down and immediately putting on a movie.

You didn't watch a single moment of the movie. Although Jake seemed immersed, you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Your eyes took in the slight shine against his skin from the movie, the light in his eyes looking like stars. You didn't miss the way he chewed his tongue when he got focused, or when his hair was blown awry by the air conditioner.

Your brain took a turn for the worse as a more romantic scene in the movie arrived. Your eyes raked over his exposed skin, feeling like a Victorian man who had just been introduced to short sleeves.

You looked at his tattoos, really looked at them, and saw countless music notes with small letters in them, a guitar, small pictures or animals, and a lot of book references. You never expected Jake to have been fully inked up, but you also never expected to find that as a huge turn-on.

You squeezed your thighs together to hide the fact that a simple doodle in perfectly smooth skin had put you in such a predicament. Jake turned to you, wrapping his arm around you and pointing to the screen. “See that actor?”

“Yeah, what about him?” You asked.

Jake let his hand fall onto your lap, turning to you. “Even he can tell you're not paying attention,” he pushed your hair behind your ear. “Wanna tell me what you like so much that you've been staring at me the whole time?”

You gawked. You geeked. You'd fumbled.

Jake slid his hand onto your back, and in a moment he was above you. “Tell me, sweetheart, what's so attractive that it's got you squeezing those pretty thighs so tight?”

You gulped, your thoughts having gone anywhere but where they should. He tapped his finger against your lip, a sinful smile on his face. “Your tattoos,” you whispered.

Jake leaned back, messily pushing his hair out of his face and laughing darkly. “You like my tattoos so much that you're getting wet over them?” He asked, looking down at you.

You nodded. “I like how cool you look, wanna see the rest.”

“You want to see the rest of the ones on me, sweetheart?” He asked in that thick Aussie accent you couldn't get enough of.

With a small squeak, you nodded again, feeling smaller than usual in his gaze. He looked at you the same way you'd assume a predator stared at its prey in its final moments, but you felt a strange sense of safety with him.

He slowly leaned in, his arms caging you in as he pressed his lips to yours. He held your hip with his large hand, his fingers gripping your ass while his palm held you down. He slid his thigh over your core, pressing into where you needed him most.

Your lips parted, letting out a moan. Jake swallowed it whole, sliding his tongue against your own slowly and sucking on your bottom lip. The two of you built a slow rhythm, his thigh grinding into you as you arched your back like clockwork.

His hand never left your hip, holding you in place to keep you victim to his torturously slow lips and thrusts. He loved every noise that left your mouth. Jake pulled away from you, his eyes taking in your wet, puffy lips. The two of you were breathlessly panting to catch your breaths.

His lips parted in thought. “Didn't think you'd be such a good kisser,” he mused. “Almost like you were made for my lips.”

You giggled, pushing him off you as he went to press more kisses to your lips. “Jake, I want to know more about you,” you whined.

“For one, I'm a really good kisser,” he wiggled his eyebrows jokingly as he settled back into his seat. His arms came behind him for support. He seemed to not worry about covering his obvious boner, leaning back and looking at the ceiling.

You hit his arm. “I know that already,” you fussed. “But, like, what are some hobbies of yours?”

He jut his bottom lip out in thought. “I play guitar,” he shrugged, “and there's nothing I love more than getting high and reading a good book.”

You blinked slowly, his eyes coming to yours with a smile. “What does being high even have to do with reading?”

“Makes the experience more realistic. Feels like you're there, you start feeling what the character feels and all,” he sighed. “I like to read romance books, though.”

You bit the back of your lip. “Does that really work?”

“Wanna try it?"

Jake had lit a joint for you, showing you how to hold it and even going so far as to hold it for you while he played with your hair.

The world started to move slower, certain colors waving in your vision. “Do you feel it?” Jake asked, running his hands through your hair. You nodded, looking around the room. “The rest’ll hit soon, just know I'm right here if you need me.”

He put his arm around your shoulders as he took his own hits, resting his head against your own.

He put the joint into a small ashtray, standing with you and grabbing one of the many books he'd brought into the soundproofed study room off a table.

The two of you read through it, laughing when one of you wouldn't be done with the page as fast as the other. Suddenly, the book began to describe a racier scene, one with hands all over the main character's body and kisses being pressed over her.

Jake watched you closely, taking note of how you squirmed in your seat every time the girl felt a new sensation. “What's wrong, Y/N?” Jake asked in a low voice, leaning into you. “You seem… worked up.”

You swallowed hard. “N-No! I’m just cold,” you lied. Jake clicked his tongue, closing the book and holding you by your thigh.

He used his hand to pull you closer, his lips connecting to your own. “Sure, sweetheart. I believe you,” he lied with a smirk. He glanced at your lips again before wrapping his fingers around your throat, pulling you in to continue his rough kiss.

A groan slipped from Jake's own throat, his body reacting before he could. He pulled away, his hand sliding up your closed thighs. “Not,” he continued, connecting your lips again. You opened your legs slightly, giving Jake the ability to use his hand and pry them open.

He ran his fingers up and down your clothed slit, just barely giving you the friction you craved. You felt how hard he was through his jeans, his crotch subtly grinding against your leg. He continued his assault against your lips, never once stopping for air.

You hit his chest, moaning into his mouth as he pulled away. “Jake, stop teasing me.”

“Oh, I'd never tease you, darling,” he responded with a mischievous grin. “Just wanted you to feel how good you're gonna feel with me.”

Jake took his hand off your skirt and brought it into your other hand. He brought his lips to your neck, biting down and tracing the marks with his tongue. You moaned out his name, making him groan lowly into your neck.

“I can't wait anymore,” he said as he stepped back and began unbuckling his belt. “I need to feel your throat around me.”

You stood, walking to be in front of him and pushing his back to the table. His breath caught in his throat as you sank to your knees in front of him. He hurriedly finished unbuckling his belt, reaching his hands to his waistband to pull down the rest of his clothing as you held his hand to stop him.

“Wait, Jake, are you sure about this? We're both high and in a study room in the library, what if the cameras pick up the noise?”

Jake leaned against the table behind him, his hands holding onto the edge of it at his sides. He looked at you with such an intense heat behind his gaze, you could feel the lust of it gathering into your underwear.

He slid a hand into your hair, pulling you to him and smashing his lips to yours. He brought his thigh outwards to catch your body between your legs. Your eyes shut at the feeling, the messy kiss fogging your brain.

“These rooms are sound-proof for two reasons. One, for studying or reading. And two, so I can fuck your throat as hard as I want.”

He released your hair, making you fall back to your knees. He pushed his pants and boxers down to his knees, giving you a grand view of his cock.

It was veiny, thick, and the tip was such an angry red that the precum leaking from it almost screamed for you to lick it all up. Without warning, you grabbed it and took it between your lips.

Jake threw his head back, a moan bouncing off the walls of the room. You heard him suck a breath in through his teeth as you sucked on the tip. You let your tongue glide over his slit, collecting his precum and swallowing it.

“Fuck, Y/N, you're so good at this,” he moaned. Your wetness was dripping down your legs, you felt it. You moaned around him as you took more of him in with hollowed cheeks.

He held the sides of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes. “Remember what I said, sweetheart. Wanna fuck your face, if that's okay.”

You hummed on his dick, giving him the go-ahead. He slowly began to thrust into your mouth, not pushing in all the way. When you began to bob your head further, Jake took it as his sign to go deeper.

He added more force and speed to his thrusts until you were taking him whole, each thrust hitting the bottom of your throat and making you gag around him. Your saliva was dripping down his balls and onto his legs as you used one hand to rub your own clit.

You were so close, but you wanted to wait until his cum was pouring down your throat to finish. “Such a good girl for me, so sweet for taking my dick down her throat,” Jake hummed, his eyes never leaving the sight. It all felt so good.

Jake’s legs began to shake as he let out more moans. Jake was not afraid to be loud, nor was he afraid to speak his mind. He constantly praised you between his little moans.

“Fuck,” he moaned. “‘M so close.”

You moaned against him again, his hips jolting forward. “Gonna make me cum down your throat like that, bet you want that don't you?”

His tip slammed into the back of your throat, his thrusts growing erratic. With each thrust he gave to the back of your throat, you circled your clit faster. “Fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” he groaned.

His hips stuttered to a halt, warm liquid spilling into your stomach. “Taking it so, so good,” he sighed, his hair sticking to the sweat on his forehead. “Atta girl, my girl, so beautiful with my cock down her throat.”

You moaned as you felt your orgasm take over you, moans spilling around Jake’s cock and slightly overstimulating him. He thrusted one more time into you, a lazy smile on his face. He pulled out of you, watching bits of spit and cum dribble down your chin.

You looked like an absolute wreck, your hair messy and your mascara running with spit down your chin. Jake loved it. You looked stunning to him.

“Y/N, that was amazing. Thank you,” he pulled you up to sit you in a chair. He ran out of the room to get water for you, as he'd told you when he walked out.

Your eyes darted around the room. You opened your phone to see four missed calls from both Sunghoon and Jay.

You dialed Jay’s phone number, a groggy smile on your face. “Hey, what's up?”

“Y/N, are you still with Jake?”

“Yes, why?” You asked, stretching in the chair.

He sighed over the phone. “We've been waiting outside the library for half an hour, get the fuck in the car.”

“Jay, I'm capable of bringing myself home-”

“Y/N. Get out of there, now,” Jay said, his tone cold. “I don't know how to say this, but-”

“Jay, you can't control me. I'm an adult,” you rolled your eyes, pacing around the room. “If you're so uncomfortable with me dating someone-”

Jay interrupted you, saying a sentence you'd never think to hear about anyone, much less the guy you sucked off less than three minutes ago. His words had you quickly grabbing your belongings and running out of the building, hoping Jake didn't see you go.

“He’s wanted for murder, Y/N.”

notes: MURDER?? oh boy.. didn't see that one coming ;) expect the next part to be... Eventful. Originally, Jake was supposed to be a camboy, but I figured that possible criminal Jake would be better LMFAO. I reccomend listening to Arctic monkeys or chase Atlantic when you read this series.

tags: @heesitation @vizstars

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, and thank you for reading! stick around for part 2!!

[libraryraccoon]

A Penguin And The Angel Of Death

Gift for : @deadghosy

Gender : Penguin

Pronouns : They/Them

Message of Raccoon : I just really wanted to write Azrael with Penguin!Reader, so I try.

TW : bad english, english isn't my first language.

How you met Azrael is a mystery for everyone.

Azrael had heard about Heaven and Hell fighting over a penguin, and he decided to go check it out.

"So you're the famous Penguin." -Azrael, seeing you for the first time.

Friendship. Instantly.

He was your platonic soulmate.

I can see Azrael taking you flying with him. Imagine being a normal angel or demon, looking up and seeing the angel of death flying, holding a penguin in his arms.

The day of the trial, you and Azrael were watching everything from the sidelines, eating popcorn.

“Do you think they know you’re going to stay with me ?” -Azrael, watching the scene while eating popcorn, amused.

You made a penguin noise that can be translates as "Sshh, this is starting to get interesting." -Penguin!Reader, watching the scene like a TV novela.

Azrael speaks penguin. Don't ask how, he just do it.

"Guardship returns to.." Sera paused, either in disbelief or to be dramatic. “Azrael ?!” Certainly the first.

“Yo bitch.”

They looked at him as if they were seeing him for the first time- they hadn't even noticed him.

"WHAT ?! BUT HE DON'T EVEN KNOW THEM !" -Lute.

You worried for a second for Azrael's safety before remembering that he was the Angel of Death and that he was in no danger.

Lucifer looks at his brother, feeling betrayed that he is taking one of his children away from him.

Azrael walked out of the room with you in his arms, happy of the trial he saw today.

Azrael is like your cool dad who takes you everywhere with him and takes you wherever you want.

Azrael can go to Heaven, Hell or even Earth just with a snap of his fingers, say your destination and he'll take you there with no problem.

You often go to Hell and Heaven because you are attached to the people that are there.

Azrael only leaves you alone with Lucifer or Emily.

Lucifer is basically your uncle who babysits you all the time.

You have met Big G and the other archangels. I don't make the rules, as soon as Azrael won your guardship, he introduced you to the rest of the family.

You are the archangels' favorite nephew and Big G's favorite grandchild.

I just know that you and Big G spent hours on grandpa-grandchild outings. You go to the beach, get ice cream, play jokes on others... until Azrael comes to pick you up.

I headcanon that you help Gabriel in his work as a messenger.

It was you who passed the message of Sir Pentious being in Heaven to Charlie, telling her that redemption was possible.

It was your first message, Gabriel and Azrael were very proud of you after you managed to successfully transmit it.

They had a party to celebrate it.

No one can fuck with you.

Literally, you have Azrael, Big G and all the archangels on your side. Upsetting you/being on your bad side is a death sentence.

Lute and Adam are so disgusted that Azrael stole you - like you can feel their jealousy at 3000km/h.

Azrael just smiled at them before calling you “his son/daughter/child” in front of them just to piss them off.

And it works.

I can see Alastor trying to make a deal with Azrael for you to stay at the Hotel, Azrael just looks at him like "Really now ?"

Needless to say, it never worked and if it wasn't for you, he would have already killed the deer demon.

The angels find it adorable that the fearsome angel of death is walking around with a little Penguin, it's just too cute for them.

Family dinners are ✨️beautiful✨️

Beautiful in the sense that it's chaotic and it's never bored.

Usually family dinners are you, Big G, Azrael, Lucifer, Charlie, and the other archangels.

But one day you invited Emily, Sera, Adam and Lute to join you..

Let's say you weren't bored during all the dinner.

The best moments are those of hugs.

Hugs with Azrael are the best because he wraps his wings around you while carrying you. It's so quiet and peaceful that it puts you to sleep, which is very useful especially when you can't fall asleep.

Hugs with the whole family are... interesting ?

I mean, from the outside it looked like a mess of nameless feathers-

You are always in the middle of family hugs.

Azrael almost executed all the exterminators after learning about the extermination that was directed against the hotel when you were in it..

LET ME CANONIZE PROTECTIVE!DAD!AZRAEL.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 7: In All My Victories

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13

Somebody said you got a new friend (But does she love you better than I can?)

(In which a writer in an EST timezone uses the PST timezone to announce that technically she's still meeting the deadline)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst, Fluff, Jealousy

Words: 6.5K

TW: Swearing, Toxic Relationships

A/N: Hello my lovelies! Listen it's past midnight here but it's only around 9 pm in California which is where most of this fic is set so TECHNICALLY I am still meeting my deadline. This chapter is kind of a filler (and I guess that's why I don't love it) because it was gonna be about ~3K longer with another scene but it was either a longer chapter or a Monday chapter and I feel like y'all would prefer a Monday chapter. I have not edited this yet because I simply just don't have the energy to so pretty please point out my errors as you read so I can use them when I edit some time tomorrow. There's probably other stuff I need to say but I'm feeling oddly delirious right now so I'll just end with the usual. Let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Paige wakes up to a stream of sunlight tapping at her eyelids and someone’s soft breath tickling against her nose. She can feel a tiny hand pressed against her chest -right above her heart- and the weight of another person’s fingers intertwined against her own. The room is silent with the exception of the clock ticking on the wall and the perfectly harmonized breathing of the other people in the room. Stephie and Azzi. And Paige is scared to open her eyes, scared to move even an inch, scared that if she does either of those things, her dreamlike reality will prove to be nothing but a hopeless mirage. 

It had taken Paige a moment last night to really register what was happening around her. Dazedly, she had followed Azzi up the stairs into the guest room. She’d watched, albeit unhelpfully, as Azzi had searched out extra pillows, setting up the queen-sized bed so it could fit three people instead of it’s regular duo. It hadn’t sunk in even as Paige had slowly gotten herself ready for bed, finding herself in one of Azzi’s old oversized t-shirts suddenly overwhelmed with how much she’d missed falling asleep embraced in the scent of the younger woman’s favorite lavender and eucalyptus deodorant. Even as she’d made her way back from the bathroom and found Stephie beaming at her from where she was curled into Azzi’s side on bed, Paige still felt like she was simply just watching everything from a facetime call, like she had been while back in Dallas. It wasn’t until Stephie’s bedtime story was finished and the lights were turned off, when Azzi’s hand finally captured hers underneath the comforter and squeezed gently, that it finally clicked for Paige. 

Azzi had asked her to stay over.

Azzi had promised she wouldn’t run away. 

And as Paige finally lets eyes flutter open, blinking to adjust to the light, she breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of a promise kept. 

Propping herself onto her elbow, she lets herself take in the view of the two people still sound asleep next to her. Paige isn’t a morning person by any means -rarely is she the first person to wake up- but she thinks if this was what she could open her eyes to every time, getting up could become her favorite part of the day. 

It’s uncanny how similar Azzi and Stephie are while sleeping. The little girl’s grip on Paige’s shirt is almost as strong as the tight hold her mother has on Paige’s hand. It’s like they’re trying to reel Paige into their world and keep her there forever, like even if she let go, they wouldn’t let her. There’s an air of contentedness on Azzi’s face as she snuggles closer to her daughter and Stephie has a soft smile at being cocooned in the protection of her mother’s arms. And Paige’s whole body aches a little bit because this bed they’re on is definitely not made for three people, but it’s nothing in comparison to the way her heart feels like it might burst from this feeling of and maybe this is how i become whole again. 

She presses a kiss against Stephie’s forehead and rubs her thumb against the back of Azzi’s hand before carefully detaching herself from the duo and slipping out of bed. The whole house is still clearly asleep as Paige lethargically brushes and then begins to make her way down the stairs. Her eyes gloss over the pictures placed across the stairwell until they fixate on one that has her in it. It’s an image taken after one of many water fights they’d had at the Fudd household during a hot summer day. Life had been so simple back then when it was water and not bullets that they shot at each other. 

Five drenched children are beaming at the camera. Jon and José are posed in some ridiculous stance, their water guns pointed at the camera. Paige, par for the course, is flexing, a far too cocky smirk dancing on her lips because she’d probably won the game (even if nobody else agreed). And then there’s Drew and Azzi. There’s a familiar pang in Paige’s chest as she brushes her fingers over her little brother’s exuberant smile. He’s latched onto the brunette’s back, a blue water balloon in his hand, as Azzi uses one hand on his hip to keep Drew in place and uses her other one to hold a pink water balloon of her own. The Fudds -Azzi- had been as big of a constant in Drew’s life as they had been in Paige’s and she wonders now, as she thinks back to her little brother’s irritation with her joining the Valkyries, if he’d ever forgive her and Azzi for taking that away from him. 

“Oh hey good morning,” Tallulah says as Paige lets herself into the kitchen, blanching slightly at the sight of the other woman. 

“Good morning,” Paige greets, pouring herself a glass of water as she takes a seat at the island, “guessing you’re making pancakes?”

Tallulah nods with a grin, “Stephie’s orders you know.”

“Ah of course,” Paige laughs, “can’t defy the queen.”

She watches as Tallulah prances around the hardwood floor, grabbing bowls and ingredients, like it’s her kitchen and Paige can’t help the twinge of envy that blooms in her bloodstream. It used to be her. She used to know the Fudd’s kitchen -the whole house- like the back of her hand because really, like Katie always said, it was her home too. But she doesn’t quite know this place, couldn’t tell you where to find the sugar or where the utensils were kept and that stings more than she’d expected. It spirals Paige into the thought that she wouldn’t know any of those things at Azzi’s own house either. And suddenly she’s struck by the reminder that two people who’d once promised to build a world together, had spent the last couple of years, building two separate ones instead. 

“Hey,” Tallulah breaks Paige out of her trance, “you good.”

Paige musters up a smile, “yeah- yeah of course. Just- just thinking a lotta things I guess.”

“They’ve all missed you, you know,” Tallulah says softly, “they try not to do it too much around Azzi but it’s always ‘oh Paige would’ve loved this’ or ‘did you catch that bucket Paige made last night’. And whenever the Wings were playing here, it was a no-brainer that they would go.”

“Yeah?” tears prickle against the blonde’s waterline. 

“Yeah,” Tallulah confirms, “Tim lowkey lost his mind before you got here last night. Poor man was running all over the place making sure things were good. Katie thought it was pretty hilarious.”

Paige lets out a watery laugh, “that sounds like them-”

“Miss Buecks,” a tiny voice interrupts her before she can say anything and Paige whirls around to see a teary-eyed Stephie looking at her from the last step of the staircase, her bottom lip trembling and panic courses into Paige’s bloodstream

“Stephie,” she practically trips over herself as she rushes to fold the little girl into her arms, “sweetheart what’s wrong?”

Stephie nestles herself into the blonde’s neck, mumbling something incoherent as she holds Paige impossibly tight. 

“Stephie,” Paige whispers frantically, concern dripping from her voice, “tell Miss Buecks what’s wrong please. I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me sweetheart.”

“Thought you left,” Stephie confesses finally, keeping her head burrowed against Paige’s shoulder, “you weren’t next to me when I woke up. Got scared.”

“Oh honey,” Paige whispers, as she gently coaxes the little girl’s head out from the crook of her neck so she can cup her face, “I’m right here. I wouldn’t leave without saying goodbye.”

Stephie’s quiet for a second, hiccoughing to herself as she searches for something on Paige’s face before she holds out a pinky, “promise you’ll never leave?” 

Paige hesitates, the words sitting heavy on the tip of her tongue. It’s not that she doesn’t want to but Paige has learned first-hand about the fragility of the future, about how true the cliché about time changing in the blink of an eye can be. Because the truth is that it’s not just Azzi who’s scared. Paige is terrified. She’d drowned in this ocean once before and as she tries to swim in it again, she can’t quite find it in herself to shed her life-jacket by making an oath that she can’t guarantee to protect from the dangerous tides of circumstance.

And so she hopes it’s enough for Stephie as she caresses the little girl’s cheeks and says, “I promise I’ll try to stay.”

“Okay,” Stephie says softly and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, “I trust you Miss Buecks.”

Paige smiles, giving the little girl a kiss on the cheek before hoisting her up onto her lap, “did you wake your Mama up?”

“No. She’s still snoring,” Stephie giggles. 

Paige laughs, tucking that little tidbit away to tease Azzi with later, “how about you and I go get your Mama her favorite coffee?”

“Oh that’s nice,” Tallulah chirps from where she’s still standing in the kitchen, “go get coffee of course. Why would anyone stay here and help me?”

“Go ask uncle José,” Stephie shoots the younger woman an unamused look, “isn’t that what husbands are for?”

Paige stifles a grin as Tallulah narrows her eyes, waving her whisk menacingly at Stephie, “he’s not my husband yet and you watch it missy or maybe I won’t let you be a flower girl at the wedding.”

“Your wedding would be boring without me,” Stephie scoffs, “besides Aunty Tully, we’ll get you a drink too. Uncle José always says you drink vod-ka, too much of it app-ently, but I don’t know what that is,” she turns to Paige who’s gone bright red in attempt to stop herself from keeling over with laughter, “can we get vod-ka for Aunty Tully?”

Paige tries her best to compose herself, “maybe we’ll just get her a latte and save the vodka for later huh Tulls?”

Tallulah glares at her, flipping her off when Stephie’s gaze shifts towards the door, “just go get the coffee Bueckers.”

***

Not that she didn’t know it before, but Paige quickly realizes just how similar Stephie is to her mother while they’re standing in front of the bakery portion of the coffeeshop and it’s been ten minutes and Stephie still hasn’t decided which sweet treat she’d like. 

 “Stephie sweetheart,” Paige says, only slightly impatient, “how about the double fudge brownie?”

“That sounds good,” Stephie says excitedly and then her eyes dart towards the cinnamon bun in the corner, “or maybe the ninnamon bun- no wait- Aunty Tully’s gonna put ninnamon in the pancakes so maybe something else. Ooooh maybe a cookie but which one?”

Paige groans to herself as Stephie busies herself looking at the assortment of freshly baked cookies. The old woman over the counter, wearing a name tag saying Ruthie, shares a commiserating smile with her. 

“My daughter was like that too at that age. Couldn’t make a decision to save her life,” Ruthie says, a fond look in her eyes while talking about her child. 

Paige smiles, “did she ever grow out of it?”

“Well considering we went out to dinner last night and she couldn’t pick between the pepperoni and the sausage, I don’t think they really grow out of it,” Ruthie winks and Paige can’t help but think about Azzi and the way she’d struggled to pick out what to wear to bed last night, staring helplessly between two shirts that practically looked the same. 

“Oh I know that look,” Ruthie says, eyes twinkling at the hopeless smile on Paige’s face, as she tilts her head towards Stephie, “you’re thinking about her mother huh?”

“That obvious?” Paige blushes. 

Ruthie shrugs, “what is love if it can’t be seen by everyone?”

Love. The word seeps into Paige’s veins, traveling up her bloodstreams until it claws its way into her heart, settling against her ribcage like a rock so that when she breathes, it’s all she can feel. It’s too soon, she knows, and it defeats the purpose of going slow except- it’s not soon at all. Because this isn’t a new feeling, it’s a far too familiar old one that she’d buried as deep within her as possible but is now yearning to get out. It had never gone away, simply lingered in the back of her mind just waiting for this moment. And if she’s honest with herself, Paige doesn’t know if she should fight against it or let herself ride the waves of the before that are desperate to crash against the shore of now. 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whines, “come help me choose.”

Shooting Ruthie an apologetic look and ignoring the pit in her stomach at the elder woman’s words, Paige walks over and bends down to the little girl’s height, “how about a chocolate chip cookie?”

“Boooooring,” Stephie crinkles her nose. 

“Peanut butter?”

“I’m ‘lergic to nuts Miss Buecks,” Stephie says matter-of-factly and Paige pencils that important fact into her mind’s ever growing list of all about Stephie.

“Salted caramel crunch?” 

“That sounds good,” Stephie nods, “yeah I’ll get that,” she says as she turns to Ruthie, “could I get a salted car-mel crunch cookie please?” but Paige doesn’t miss the wistful look she sends towards the rest of the cookies. 

“Stephie?”

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to get you one of each?”

And she’s absolutely going to get a disapproving glare from Azzi when she shows back up at the Fudd’s with almost a dozen cookies in hand but it’s worth it for the way Stephie immediately latches onto her thigh, a dazzling smile lighting up her whole face. 

“You’re best-est-est-est Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals, staring up at Paige with delight. 

“I know,” Paige smirks, “and you better protect me from your Mama when we get back.”

Stephie nods very seriously, “of course Miss Buecks. I’ll protect you with my life.”

Paige ruffles the younger girl's hair before turning to Ruthie who’s grinning at her, “one of every flavor of cookie you have please. Except anything that has nuts.”

“Coming right up,” Ruthie winks at Paige, “your daughter has you wrapped around her little finger huh?”

And maybe Paige should at least attempt to correct the misconception but as Stephie clings to her just a little bit tighter, she can’t find it in herself to say anything but, “yeah, yeah she does.”

***

“Next time you kidnap my daughter, can you at least send me a text?” Azzi says, a grin on her lips as she opens the door to let Paige and Stephie enter back into the Fudd household. 

“Good morning Mama,” Stephie says happily, launching herself into her mother’s arms and placing a sloppy kiss against her cheek. 

“Morning sunshine,” Azzi laughs, “you seem giddy this morning.”

“Miss Buecks bought me six-teen cookies and she let me eat two of them while we were dri-” Stephie pauses mid ramble, eyes widening as she dramatically slaps a hand over her mouth. 

Paige groans as a glare overtakes Azzi’s previously smiling features, “Steph what happened to protecting me?”

“It was an aksy-dent Miss Buecks I’m sorry,” Stephie whimpers, hurriedly cupping her mother’s face, “please don’t be angry at Miss Buecks, Mama. It was my idea.”

Azzi rolls her eyes, “I bet it was. But if you already had two cookies, you must be full? I guess that means no pancakes for you-”

“Miss Buecks forced me to eat the cookies,” Stephie cuts her off and Paige gasps at the betrayal, “not full at all Mama because you can’t get full unless you like what you eat and I didn’t like those cookies at all. So I neeeeeeed pancakes.”

“Traitor,” Paige hisses at the little girl who shrugs sheepishly. 

Stephie shoots her an apologetic smile as Azzi hides a grin against her daughter’s hair, “I’m sorry Miss Buecks but I really, really want pancakes. I’ll die if I don’t get pancakes.”

“Okay drama queen,” Azzi chides fondly as she puts Stephie back on the ground, “go get your pancakes,” and then she rounds onto Paige with a patented glare. 

“I got you an iced vanilla latte with extra whipped cream,” Paige says before the younger woman can say anything, practically shoving the cold drink into her hand. 

“Sixteen cookies? Paige seriously?” Azzi asks, eyebrows raised as she sips at her coffee. 

“You didn’t see her Az,” Paige defends, “she looked so sad when she couldn’t decide.”

“Just because she looks sad doesn’t mean you buy her every single cookie to make her happy,” Azzi shakes her head exasperatedly. 

“I’d buy her the whole shop if that’s what would make her happy,” Paige says, sincerity weaved throughout every word of the sentence. 

“You would, wouldn’t you?” Azzi says softly, a hint of awe in her voice, “you’re kind of a sap Paige Bueckers.”

“Only for you and your daughter Azzi Fudd,” Paige whispers, leaning her head against the younger woman’s temple, “only for the two of you.”

They stand there like that, barely touching beyond their foreheads, yet basking in a certain kind of intimacy that they’ve only ever found with each other. The thing is, Paige’s senses are always heightened, every part of her always alert of what’s going around her. Except when she’s with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi she can let the noise fade to the background and let everything else become a blur and simply just be with Azzi. When she’s with Azzi, she doesn’t have to worry; doesn’t have to have her sword out ready for battle because she knows the younger girl will always be her shield. When she’s with Azzi, Paige is safe. 

They’re shaken from their reverie by a cough in the background and Paige reluctantly looks over her shoulder to see Jana regarding them with an amused look. 

“Guess I missed a couple of chapters?” 

“Shut up,” Paige grinds out, annoyed as Azzi moves out of her space, “what are you doing here so early El-Alfy?”

“I’m here for breakfast because I’m basically an honorary Fudd,” Jana throws her head back before yelling, “RIGHT KATIE?’

“Right Jana,” comes the muffled confirmation from the kitchen as Jana smirks at Paige. 

“The better question Bueckers,” the Egyptian prods with a smirk, “is what are you doing here so early?”

“I slept ov-” Paige bites her tongue but it’s too late as Jana’s grin gets wider and next to her, Azzi lets her head drop into her hands. 

“You slept over? In which room?” Jana asks innocently. 

And of course Stephie chooses exactly that moment to catch wind of the conversation, yelling from the kitchen, “she slept with me and Mama, Aunty J.”

“Thank you for telling me Stephie,” Jana’s eyes twinkle with mirth as she pulls out her phone, “oh I’m about to make some money- hey!”

Azzi snatches the phone out of her younger teammate’s hand, a sweet smile playing on her lips as she starts walking towards the kitchen, “no phones at breakfast thank you!”

“That’s not fair,” Jana whines sauntering after the GSV shooting guard, Paige snickering as she follows the two of them into the kitchen. 

“Life’s not fair. Deal with it,” Azzi glares before slipping Jana’s phone into her own pocket, “you can have it back before you leave.”

“Y’all are so mean,” Jana sulks, pouting harder when she reaches out to grab a pancake and immediately has her hand whacked by Tim.

“That one’s for Paige,” the older man warns sternly and Paige sticks her tongue out at her teammate as she grabs the pancake onto her place. 

“WHAT?” Jana guffaws, “what’s so special about it?”

Tim shrugs, “absolutely nothing. Just thought it would be funny to see you annoyed.”

“Y’all are the worst adoptive family a player could have you know that?” Jana scolds, pressing her fists to her cheeks like she’s barely older than Stephie, “and to think I was gonna invite the two of you,” she glares at Paige and Azzi, “to a party.”

“Party? Can I come?” Stephie asks excitedly. 

“Unfortunately this one’s just for adults kiddo. And it’s not really a party,” Jana explains, “me and Joyce thought it would be nice to do a little team-bonding, especially for you P. Drinks at the bar next weekend?”

“Sounds good,” Paige confirms, “we’ll be there!”

“Oh it’s ‘we’ now is it?” Jana teases, “you guys gonna come together?”

“No,” Azzi says at the same time as a profound “yes” leaves Paige’s mouth. The two of them stare at each other with questioning looks and Paige feels a heavy pit settling in her stomach. Rationally, she knows Azzi’s probably right. No part of going slow includes going to a party with their teammates together, especially not when they’re trying to keep whatever it is they’re doing on the down low. But there’s something about being a secret again, that raises a bitter taste of what killed us then could kill us now in her mouth. 

“Awkward,” Jon whistles slowly, only to be met with a simultaneous slap on the back of his head from both his mother and Tallulah. 

“I mean- I would have to drop Stephie off here- or umm- at Colleen's so like- logically- practically- uh- it um- it wouldn’t make sense for us to go together,” Azzi says and Paige has to refrain herself from calling it a bullshit explanation. 

Instead she gives the younger girl a tight-lipped nod, “right yeah-wouldn’t make sense for us to go together. Obviously,” gritting her teeth and desperate to change the topic, she turns to Jana, “will the whole team be there?”

“A couple of them aren’t currently in the Bay but yeah most of them,” Jana shrugs. 

“Oh,” Stephie claps excitedly, “will Aunty Chérie be there? Is she back yet?”

Paige narrows her eyes as both Jana and Azzi exchange looks, “who’s Aunty Chérie?”

“Aunty Chérie’s the best,” Stephie gushes, “she’s really nice and pretty and she calls me ‘mon chérie’,” the little girl does her best attempt at a vaguely french accent and realization starts to claw at Paige’s mind, “so I call her Aunty Chérie. She’s Mama’s best friend on the team.”

Paige tries and fails not to grimace at the sentence; the idea of anyone else being Azzi’s best friend feels like nails being screwed into her skin. 

“I’m your Mama’s best friend on the team,” Jana butts in, trying to rescue Azzi from the hole her daughter’s about to dig her into, glancing worriedly between the two former huskies who are doing their best not to look at each other. 

“If you say so Aunty J,” Stephie concedes, “but you didn’t answer my question. Is Aunty Chérie back?”

“Yeah she- um Clémence I mean- is coming back for a little bit next week so um-” Jana swallows, clearly not having thought the uncomfortableness of the situation through, “yeah she’ll uh- she’ll probably be there.”

Stephie lets out a whoop of excitement and Paige feels it burn a hole in her stomach. She knows she has no right to be upset at the idea of Stephie being as enamored by another one of Azzi’s teammates but something about it makes her feel queasy inside. Because Clémence Martens isn’t just a teammate. Paige doesn’t know the exact history there; she’d never had the right to ask about it but she’s seen the way Clémence looks at Azzi and she knows she doesn’t like it one bit.

“I thought Clémence was being traded to Atlanta?” Paige keeps her voice low as she leans into Jana. She’s not sure if Stephie knows the news yet and despite the jealousy that’s blooming in every crevice of her body, she doesn’t want to hurt the little girl by accidentally announcing it to her, “why’s she coming?”

Jana sighs, “Joyce invited her cause she was gonna be in town. You know they don’t know about-” the taller woman gestures between Paige and Azzi, “-all of this so. It’s just for one night Paige.”

“Right,” Paige nods, eyes locking with Azzi’s across the table as the younger woman fidgets with the ‘S’ necklace around her neck and shoots Paige a timid attempt at a reassuring smile, “just one night.”

***

August 2028

USA 68         France 64

The entire arena is abuzz for the final 20 seconds of a grueling semi-final match between the storied USA Women’s Basketball team trying to keep their dynasty alive and a vindictive French team eager to avenge their last heartbreaking Olympic loss. France has possession of the ball, shot clock turned off, and Paige has been tasked with guarding Clémence Martens. The woman in front of her, a bench player for the Golden State Valkyries,  had never seemed like much of a threat to Paige when they’d met during the W season, but seemed to have become a whole other beast when representing her nation. Clémence is currently leading the French team in assists and is only behind Gabby William in points. Paige keeps herself glued to the woman as she tries to get herself free for the inbound. 

The inbounder realizes after a couple of seconds that the French coach’s advice to get Clémence the ball wouldn’t be possible and instead the ball ends up in the hands of Iliana Rupert instead. As gameplay resumes, Paige does exactly as she’s supposed to and she can tell that she’s getting under the French woman’s skin as Clémence curses to herself in her native language. Paige bites back a smirk, secretly pleased at having riled her competitor up. The ball continues to pass around the French players, time ticking away, but the USA’s defense doesn’t allow a good shot until Gabby throws up a miraculous jumper with a second left on the shot clock. 

And of course, in a way that’s perhaps too reminiscent of how France had lost in 2024, it goes in. 

But it’s not enough and Paige feels blood rush to her ears as the entire arena, decked out in red white and blue, roars with triumph, celebrating the world's greatest team returning back to the finals stage. There’s still one more game but this win is special. They’d been down by 11 points at the half and Paige could almost picture the headlines ready to write themselves about the streaks that could be broken if they lost. But she was no stranger to the pressure that came from playing for a team with a deep history and it had been her and Stewie, partially motivated by their former college head coach frowning at them from the sidelines, that had spear-headed a 23-3 run at the beginning of the 3rd quarter. The USA women’s team hadn’t looked back since and now they were one more step away being golden again. 

“You did it,” Olivia screams, running into Paige’s arms as friends and family start to gather on the court, “I’m so proud of you!”

“Thanks Olivia-” Paige is about to say more when the familiar back of someone’s head catches her attention and, like they always seem to when she’s around, all the words die on the tip of her tongue. 

Azzi. 

Paige could’ve sworn she’d seen the woman in the crowd at some point but she’d chalked it up to a trick of the light manipulating her eyes into seeing what her heart desperately wanted. But as she watches the woman she’d once imagined celebrating all of her victories with, slowly brush away the tears of someone else’s loss, Paige can’t help but wish that it had been a trick of the light after all. She feels suffocated and she can’t tell if it’s from how tight Olivia’s holding her or if it’s because Clémence is burying her head into the space between Azzi’s neck and shoulder, a space that Paige used to mark as hers. And then Azzi looks above Clémence’s shoulder. Dark brown eyes shimmer with unshed tears as they lock onto watery sky blue ones. They’re standing in other people’s arms and they really should look away but how can they when looking into each other’s eyes feels a little bit like finally coming up for air. And Paige realizes that what she’s really being suffocated by is the regret of you’re supposed to be holding me and i’m supposed to be holding you; it was meant to be us. 

Azzi lets go of Clémence first, soothingly rubbing the francophone’s back as she makes her way over to congratulate the USA team, starting with Cam and Aliyah. Paige pulls away from Olivia, oblivious to the way annoyance flits across her wife’s features as she catches sight of Azzi. No one but the blonde notices how hesitant Azzi’s steps are, how she carefully pauses a little longer than necessary with everyone else until she finally reaches Paige, managing to give her a small but sincere smile. Olivia wraps a possessive hand around Paige’s bicep and the blonde fights the urge to shake it off when she notices Azzi’s eyes flickering to it for a brief second before coming back up to her face. 

“Congratulations Paige,” the formality in Azzi’s voice feels like acid pelting against Paige’s skin, “you were really good tonight.”

“Thank you,” Paige smiles politely, “it was pretty stressful there for a second but I’m glad we got the dub. But it um-” she hesitates, unsure if she should say the next part, “it would’ve been nice if you were out there with me- with us I mean. We could’ve used your shooting.”

“Maybe next time,” Azzi gives her a half-grin. 

“Oh I don’t know about that,” Olivia says airily, sharp nails digging a little too roughly into Paige’s skin as her grip tightens further, “there’s plenty of talent up and coming in the next 4 years.”

This is a side of Olivia that Paige is only just beginning to unveil, the side of Olivia that makes snide bitchy comments with a saccharine voice. And Paige really should let it go at this moment, make a mental note to speak with her wife about it later instead of jumping in. But she can see the insecurities brimming in Azzi’s eyes and the words tumble out before Paige can stop them. 

“Yeah but no one better than Azzi.”

Olivia stiffens, “right unless she’s injured or pregnant or something. You’re prone to those right?”

“Olivia,” Paige hisses. 

“I didn’t mean it offensively,” Olivia feigns innocence and a bitter mix of irritation and anger coils itself around Paige’s ribcage, “just something to think about.”

Azzi’s quiet for a second before a sugary smile, laced with poison, inches itself onto her face, “I’ve only been pregnant once and I haven’t been injured since college which I would expect someone in sports media to know but,” the brunette’s eyes flash dangerously, “I suppose that’s something someone with national media credentials would know, not just a mere local beat writer for Dallas’s fifth most read newspaper,” Azzi turns to Paige, sarcasm morphing into something far more genuine, “congratulations again. I’m really happy for you Paige.”

***

The Reynolds-Bueckers hotel room is a pathetic hot mess that night. Olivia’s livid at Paige and Paige is livid at the stupid #Clézzi tag on tiktok. She’s no stranger to fan edits and she’s definitely no stranger to ship edits and so when the first tiktok appears on her for you page, she knows better than to click on it. She knows better but she does it anyway. And suddenly she finds herself sucked into montage after montage of so-called moments between Clémence and Azzi that fans had noticed and documented. The clips are bad enough themselves but it’s the captions, bold declarations of look at the way she looks at her; no one can love azzi the way clémence loves her, that really piss her off. Clémence might look at Azzi like she’s made of stars but Paige knows that she looks at Azzi like she is the moon, Paige’s moon. As Olivia’s anger bounces off the walls, her rant about disrespect starts to mesh with the audio of the edits that continue to play on the blonde’s phone and Paige wonders if this her God-designed personal hell. 

“Are you even fucking listening to me Paige?” Olivia yells, forcing Paige to look up at her wife. 

“What do you want me to say Olivia?” Paige asks tiredly. 

“What do I want you to say? Well nothing now Paige. She said all of that shit to me and you were silent then so I’m not expecting you to say anything of meaning now either.”

“You’re the one who poked her first-”

“Jesus fucking christ,” Olivia laughs maniacally, “you’re really gonna do this?”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige protests. 

“You’re defending her,” Olivia yells, “you’re my wife and you’re defending her. You’re defending your ex. Can you seriously not see what’s wrong with this picture.”

“Olivia,” Paige sighs, eyes gazing down at her phone where another fuckass Clézzi edit has started to play and she rapidly scrolls past it, “it’s been a long day and I just wanna go to bed. I have practice tomorrow and the gold medal game-”

“Right fucking basketball. Again,” Olivia rolls her eyes. 

“What-”

“It’s fine,” Olivia pinches the bridge of her nose, the fight draining from her voice, “you’re right go to bed. I’m not- I’m not feeling great so I’ll sleep out here tonight. Wouldn’t- wouldn’t want you to get sick before the gold medal game.”

“Olivia,” Paige says half-heartedly, taking a timid step towards the woman in front of her.

“It’s fine,” Olivia says, “just- just go to bed Paige.”

Paige knows that the last thing she should do is actually listen to her wife. And she knows that if it was Azzi -she hates herself for even thinking this way- she wouldn’t walk away. If it was Azzi, Paige would’ve pulled her into her arms, held her there and made her talk because they both hated going to bed angry. But well if it was Azzi, this whole situation wouldn’t exist in the first place. 

And so she ends up in bed alone, still scrolling through random tiktoks in an effort to not have to deal with all the voices in her head, until suddenly she stumbles on a video captioned and at the end of the day she’ll still always be looking at her. It’s a video taken today. Paige is holding Olivia and Azzi’s holding Clémence but they’re staring at each other. And Paige thinks that whoever wrote the caption, had probably gotten it right. At the end of day, she’ll always look for Azzi. She just doesn’t know if she’ll find her ever again. 

***

USA 102         Australia 73 

Paige can already taste the feeling of a gold medal around her neck as she takes a seat, the crowd roaring with applause as Coach Lawson empties her bench. There’s only fifteen seconds left in the game and her knees are bouncing in anticipation, ready to celebrate a moment she’s been dreaming of for god knows how long. Paige scans the crowd, not even pretending to look for anyone but Azzi and she can’t help the smile that erupts on her face when she spots the brunette with her fingers crossed, a brilliant grin directed in Paige’s direction as she mouths i’m so proud of you. 

Olivia isn’t here, claiming she was too sick to come tonight. Paige thinks she probably should be more upset about that. She thinks the whole thing is probably a ruse that Olivia had concocted to get Paige to beg her to come, to get Paige to show her that she wanted her wife there. The other woman's face had fallen when Paige hadn’t really reacted to the announcement, simply pressed her lips to her forehead and mumbled a feeble hope you feel better before leaving. Paige thinks this is probably the first sign they're falling apart. She thinks she should probably care about that a little bit more too. 

But the first thing her eyes had landed on once she’d entered the court, was Azzi’s face in the lower bowl and everything else had ceased to exist. Her first petty thought had been a ha! fuck you to the damned Clézzi shippers who claimed Azzi wouldn’t show up today, too busy consoling Clémence. They didn't know Azzi was all-american. Her second thought, the one that felt like a warm blanket being wrapped around her soul, was that of course Azzi’s here. Because Azzi had been there every time Paige achieved a milestone and even if they were barely a shadow of what they used to be, it's only right that Azzi is still here. 

Australia doesn’t even bother taking a shot, bowing out gracefully and the buzzer rings. 

The entire arena bursts into confetti and music as the USA Women’s Basketball Team clinches yet another Olympic Gold Medal. 

Paige doesn’t know who she’s hugging, lost in a sea of red uniforms as she feels herself floating through her teammates. They end up in a huddle, screaming and she can barely make out who’s saying what but it doesn’t matter. The chaos has never felt so fucking cathartic.

As everyone else disperses to find their families, Paige’s eyes land where they always seem to: on Azzi. And maybe she shouldn’t do it, maybe she should think again but fuck it Paige Bueckers is an olympic gold medalist and she’s going to share this moment with the first person she’d ever won a medal for this country with. Her legs move of their own accord, walking and then running and she breathes out a sigh of relief when she realizes that Azzi’s moving towards her too. 

“You did it. Oh my god Paige you did it,” Azzi squeals as they crash into each other in the middle of the court, her arms instinctively going around Paige’s neck as the blonds wraps her hands around Azzi’s waist, “I’m so fucking proud of you. I knew you could do it Paige.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Paige breathes out, “I just- it wouldn’t be the same winning without you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften, “I came for you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to say that but- I’m here for you.”

“Good don't want you to be here for anybody else,” Paige tightens her hold on the younger woman’s waist, “we’re gonna do it together next time okay. You and me, we’re gonna be golden together.”

And they both know that they’re saying words they shouldn’t say. That when they break apart from this moment, they’ll have to walk away. But for now, being in each other’s arms is the only thing that feels right, that feels golden.

[amethystarachnid]

Hey there! Can I request for Marvel Bingo “marriage of convenience” for Steve Rogers and female reader.

I’m not sure if you’re still taking requests, I just want to share what I have in mind, it’s up to you if you want to consider it.

So, Steve and reader both belong to influential families and Steve picked reader over her elder sister (Sharon/Peggy) to marry. They’ve known each other since childhood and Steve has been secretly in love with her but he doesn’t show and doesn’t even know if she likes him. So he gets married to her to protect her from her family. His love language is taking care of her… like a slow burn, a build up towards a passionate and beautiful confession of their feelings. If you wana make it spicy, that’ll be cherry on top.

MARRIAGE

⤷ STEVE G. ROGERS

ᯓ★ Pairing: Steve G. Rogers x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Requests status: open

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ Word count: 7.3k

ᯓ★ TW(s): some little spicy scenes (2)

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The polished mahogany table between you gleams under the dim light of the private study. You sit with your hands clasped tightly in your lap, your nails digging into your palms as you try to keep your expression neutral. Across from you, Steve Rogers leans forward, his broad shoulders casting long shadows across the room. His blue eyes—soft, concerned, and endlessly patient—are fixed on you, but you avoid them, focusing instead on the crest embroidered into the sleeve of his finely tailored jacket.

The Rogers family crest.

The room is too warm, the air heavy with the scent of aged leather and wood polish. You’ve been in this study a hundred times before. It’s where your father and his friends would discuss business deals that shaped entire industries, where your sister Sharon would charm visiting dignitaries with her effortless wit and poise. You, on the other hand, always felt out of place here, like a child wearing shoes too big to fill.

But tonight, you are here for something far more personal.

“I won’t pretend this is how I imagined things going,” Steve begins, his voice steady but tinged with something unnameable—regret, maybe, or resignation. “But it’s clear to me that... things can’t continue as they are.”

Your breath catches, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something foolish. Of course, he doesn’t mean you specifically. He’s talking about your family, your situation. You know Steve well enough to recognize when he’s treading carefully, picking his words with the precision of a man dismantling a bomb.

“I know your father,” he continues, his jaw tightening briefly, “and I know what kind of man he is. The kind of... expectations he has for you and Sharon.”

You flinch at the mention of her name, your elder sister, the golden child of your family. Sharon was meant to marry Steve, not you. Everyone knew it; the whispers at gala events, the approving nods from their respective parents, the way Sharon carried herself around him like a queen certain of her crown.

And yet, it was you Steve had chosen.

The memory of that announcement still makes your heart race, even now, months later. It had been surreal, watching your father’s barely concealed fury, Sharon’s stunned disbelief. You hadn’t been able to look at Steve that night, terrified your face would betray the feelings you’ve kept locked away for years.

You clear your throat, forcing yourself back to the present. “Steve, you don’t have to—”

“I do,” he interrupts, his voice firm but not unkind. His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, the intensity of his gaze makes it impossible to breathe. “You don’t deserve what they’ve done to you. What they’re still doing to you.”

The words hang in the air between you, raw and unvarnished.

“I want to help,” he says softly.

Your heart aches at the sincerity in his voice. He means it. He always means what he says—one of the many reasons you’ve loved him since you were too young to understand what love even was. But you can’t let him see that now, not when everything is so precariously balanced.

“Marriage,” you murmur, testing the word as if it might shatter on your tongue. “You think that’s the answer?”

“I think it’s the best chance you’ll have to get out from under your father’s thumb,” Steve replies without hesitation. “And it’ll keep you safe.”

Safe. The word feels foreign, almost mythical, like something out of a bedtime story.

“And you?” you ask, folding your hands tighter to steady them. “What do you get out of this, Steve?”

For a moment, he doesn’t answer, his expression unreadable. Then he leans back in his chair, exhaling slowly.

“Peace of mind,” he says finally. “Knowing you’re not being hurt anymore. Knowing you’re not... alone in that house.”

Your throat tightens, and you swallow hard to keep the emotion at bay. You can’t let him see how much his words affect you, how desperately you want to believe in the future he’s offering.

“And what about Sharon?” you ask quietly.

Steve’s lips press into a thin line, and he looks away, his gaze settling somewhere over your shoulder. “She’ll be fine,” he says after a moment. “She doesn’t... need me the way you do.”

The words hit you like a lightning strike, and you’re sure he can hear the hitch in your breath, even though you try to hide it.

You force yourself to nod, your mind racing. If you agree to this, you’ll be tying yourself to Steve in ways you’ve only dreamed about—and yet, it won’t be real. Not for him.

But then again, isn’t that better than nothing?

“Alright,” you say softly, the word barely audible.

Steve’s gaze snaps back to you, his brows knitting together in surprise. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice gentle but insistent. “You don’t have to decide now.”

“I’m sure,” you say, more firmly this time. “If it’ll... help, then I’ll do it.”

He studies you for a long moment, and you wonder if he can see through the careful mask you’re wearing. If he knows how much of this decision is driven not by logic, but by the love you’ve kept hidden from him for so long.

Finally, he nods, a small, relieved smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright,” he says. “Then we’ll make it work. Together.”

Together.

The word echoes in your mind, a promise and a torment all at once.

And as Steve begins outlining the next steps, his voice steady and reassuring, you can’t help but wonder how long you’ll be able to keep your feelings buried now that the future you’ve always wanted is so tantalizingly close—and yet, still out of reach.

The weeks pass in a blur of arrangements. You’d never thought a wedding—your wedding—would be so impersonal, a series of carefully orchestrated events where your opinion seems to matter the least. Your family dominates every decision, from the floral arrangements to the guest list, while Steve listens patiently, occasionally intervening with quiet authority when the plans grow too elaborate or stray too far from practicality.

“We don’t need a five-tiered cake,” he says during one such discussion, his tone calm but firm. He sits beside you at the long dining table, his fingers grazing yours briefly under the polished surface. “Something simpler will do just fine.”

Your mother sniffs delicately, clearly displeased. “Simpler isn’t what people expect from a union like this, Steve,” she says, as if this is the most pressing concern. She doesn’t even glance at you when she says it, her sharp gaze fixed on Steve as if she can convince him to reconsider with sheer willpower.

He doesn’t flinch. “They’ll have to manage their expectations,” he replies smoothly, leaning back in his chair.

You catch yourself staring at him, your heart swelling with a quiet gratitude you don’t know how to express. Moments like this, small but significant, remind you why you fell in love with him in the first place. Steve Rogers has always been unshakable, a solid presence in the chaos of your life.

Still, your mother isn’t the type to back down easily.

“I just think,” she says, her voice laced with sugar-coated venom, “that Sharon would have been better suited to manage the kind of attention this marriage will bring. She’s always been... more poised under pressure.”

The words are a knife, slipping between your ribs before you even realize it. You glance down at your hands, your fingernails biting into your palms. This isn’t the first time she’s made such a comment, and it won’t be the last.

“Y/N is perfectly capable of handling herself,” Steve says, his voice cold enough to frost the edges of the room. “And if anyone has an issue with her, they’ll have to take it up with me.”

The silence that follows is heavy, your mother pursing her lips in annoyance but wisely deciding not to push further. You feel Steve’s gaze on you, but you keep your eyes fixed on the tablecloth, unwilling to let him see the cracks forming in your carefully constructed composure.

Later that evening, when the guests have gone and the house has fallen silent, you find yourself standing by the window of the guest room Steve insisted you use whenever you stayed over. The city lights shimmer in the distance, blurred by the tears you refuse to let fall.

You don’t hear him enter, but you feel his presence before he speaks.

“Y/N?” His voice is gentle, almost hesitant.

You wipe at your eyes quickly and turn to face him, forcing a smile. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you come in.”

He doesn’t buy the act for a second. He never does.

“They shouldn’t have said those things,” he says quietly, his expression shadowed with anger and something deeper, something protective.

“It’s nothing I haven’t heard before,” you say, trying to brush it off. But the tremor in your voice betrays you, and Steve’s jaw tightens.

“It’s not nothing,” he says, stepping closer. His hand hovers near yours, as if he’s waiting for permission to close the distance. “You shouldn’t have to deal with that, not from them or anyone else.”

You want to argue, to tell him that it’s fine, that you’re used to it—but the words catch in your throat, strangled by the weight of years spent trying to live up to impossible expectations.

“I don’t know how you do it,” you whisper instead, your voice barely audible. “How you always seem so... steady, even when everything’s falling apart.”

His lips curve into a faint smile, but there’s no humor in it. “I’m not as steady as you think,” he says. “But when it comes to you...” He trails off, his gaze softening. “I just want to make things easier for you, Y/N. Even if it’s just a little.”

The vulnerability in his voice undoes you. Before you can stop yourself, you reach out and take his hand, the warmth of his skin grounding you in a way nothing else can.

“Thank you,” you say, the words simple but heavy with meaning.

His thumb brushes over the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that sends a shiver down your spine. For a moment, you let yourself imagine what it would be like to stay like this forever, to let go of all the fear and doubt and simply trust in the man standing before you.

The moment doesn’t last.

The wedding approaches faster than you anticipate, each day bringing new challenges and fresh reminders of your family’s disapproval. Sharon, in particular, takes every opportunity to remind you of what she sees as your inadequacy, her words barbed and cutting.

“You should really work on your posture,” she says one afternoon as you stand for yet another fitting. “You’ll be photographed from every angle, and we wouldn’t want people to think you’re uncomfortable in your own skin.”

You grit your teeth and force a polite smile, refusing to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Steve, however, is less inclined to stay silent. “I think she looks perfect,” he says from where he’s leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed. His tone is casual, but there’s an edge to it that makes Sharon’s smile falter.

“Of course,” Sharon says smoothly, recovering quickly. “I’m just offering some advice. You know how the press can be.”

Steve doesn’t respond, his gaze shifting to you instead. “Ready to go?” he asks, his expression softening.

You nod, grateful for the excuse to escape.

In the car, the tension in your shoulders begins to ease, the quiet hum of the engine a welcome reprieve from the chaos of the day. Steve drives with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console.

“You okay?” he asks after a while, his voice low.

“I’m fine,” you say automatically.

He glances at you, his blue eyes full of quiet concern. “You don’t have to be fine all the time, you know.”

The words hit you harder than they should, and before you can stop yourself, the tears you’ve been holding back spill over.

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road without hesitation, cutting the engine. He turns to you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you’re afraid he might say something that will break you completely.

Instead, he reaches out and takes your hand, his grip firm but gentle. “Y/N,” he says softly, “you’re stronger than anyone gives you credit for. But you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

His words unravel something deep inside you, and you let out a shaky breath, the weight of everything finally catching up to you.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, ashamed of your tears.

“Don’t be,” he says, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The sincerity in his voice is almost too much to bear, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

The wedding day arrives sooner than you expect, the morning a whirlwind of activity and last-minute preparations. Your family is on their best behavior, their smiles polished and their words carefully measured. But you can feel the tension simmering beneath the surface, a reminder of all the unspoken grievances and unmet expectations that have defined your relationship with them.

Steve, however, is a calming presence throughout it all. He stays by your side whenever he can, his quiet strength a constant source of reassurance.

When you finally stand at the altar, his hands holding yours, the world seems to fade away.

“You ready?” he whispers, a small smile tugging at his lips.

You nod, your heart pounding. “Yeah,” you say, your voice steady.

And for the first time in years, you feel like you might actually mean it.

The moment the car pulls up to Steve’s penthouse, your breath catches in your throat. It’s not that you didn’t know it would be beautiful—everything about the Rogers family speaks of understated elegance and wealth—but seeing it in person is something else entirely.

The building is sleek and modern, towering over the city with floor-to-ceiling windows that glint in the afternoon sun. The lobby is quiet and luxurious, with polished marble floors and discreet staff who greet Steve with quiet deference as you walk through.

The elevator ride to the top floor feels endless, even though you know it’s only a matter of seconds. Steve stands beside you, his hands in his pockets, his expression calm and unreadable.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says softly, glancing at you.

“I’m not nervous,” you lie, gripping your clutch like it might save you from drowning.

He doesn’t call you out on it, just offers a small smile as the elevator doors slide open.

The penthouse is breathtaking.

The first thing you notice is the light. Floor-to-ceiling windows span almost the entire space, offering an uninterrupted view of the city skyline. The open-concept design is modern but warm, with sleek furniture in neutral tones and touches of warmth in the form of rich wood accents and soft throws draped over the sofas.

But what strikes you most is how... lived-in it feels. There are signs of Steve everywhere: books stacked neatly on a low table, a well-used leather armchair in one corner, and a collection of vintage records on a shelf near the fireplace.

“You don’t have to unpack everything today,” Steve says as you step inside, his voice cutting through your awe. “Take your time.”

You turn to him, unsure of what to say. “It’s beautiful,” you manage.

He smiles, a little sheepish. “Thanks. I had it redone a few years ago. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s home.”

Home. The word feels strange on your tongue, foreign in a way that makes your chest ache.

Steve seems to sense your hesitation. “Come on,” he says gently, nodding toward a hallway. “I’ll show you to your room.”

You follow him, your heels clicking softly against the polished floors. The hallway leads to a series of doors, and Steve stops in front of one near the end.

“This is yours,” he says, pushing the door open.

The room is spacious and bright, with soft, neutral tones and a large bed that looks like it belongs in a luxury hotel. A vase of fresh flowers sits on the nightstand, their fragrance subtle but soothing.

“It’s perfect,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m glad you like it.” He hesitates, then nods toward the door across the hall. “That’s my room. I figured you’d want your own space.”

You blink, caught off guard. “Oh. I... thank you.”

Steve rubs the back of his neck, looking slightly awkward. “I meant what I said before,” he says. “I’m not expecting anything from you, Y/N. This arrangement... it’s about giving you a chance to breathe, not making you feel trapped.”

The sincerity in his voice is overwhelming, and for a moment, all you can do is nod.

That night, as you lie in the unfamiliar comfort of your new bed, you think about his words. About how, for the first time in as long as you can remember, you feel like you can finally exhale.

The first few weeks of married life are surreal.

Steve is considerate to a fault, never overstepping boundaries or making you feel uncomfortable. He leaves early for work most mornings, though he always makes sure there’s coffee brewing and a note on the counter with a simple message—Take your time today or Call if you need anything.

You spend your days exploring the penthouse, slowly making the space your own. Steve encourages it, even going out of his way to pick up little things he thinks you might like—a throw pillow in your favorite color, a set of candles that smell like lavender.

At night, the two of you settle into a routine of quiet companionship. Sometimes you watch movies together, sitting on opposite ends of the couch with a bowl of popcorn between you. Other times, you talk about nothing and everything—his work, your favorite books, the quirks of city life.

It’s easy, in a way you never expected.

But the outside world is harder to ignore.

The first time the two of you go out together as a married couple, the paparazzi are relentless.

You’re having dinner at a quiet restaurant Steve picked specifically for its privacy, but as soon as you step outside, cameras flash like fireworks, and voices shout questions you’re too overwhelmed to process.

“Steve! Over here!” “Y/N, how does it feel to marry into the Rogers family?” “Any truth to the rumors that Sharon was the first choice?”

The last question hits you like a slap, and you flinch despite yourself. Steve notices immediately, his hand coming to rest lightly on the small of your back as he steers you toward the waiting car.

“Don’t listen to them,” he says quietly as the driver pulls away from the curb.

“It’s hard not to,” you admit, staring down at your hands.

He doesn’t respond right away, but when you glance up, you find him watching you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation,” he says finally. “Least of all them.”

His words linger in your mind long after you return home, and you find yourself replaying them whenever the gossip columns grow particularly vicious.

It’s not all bad, though. There are moments of levity that catch you off guard, moments when Steve’s dry humor or unexpected playfulness makes you laugh so hard you forget the world outside entirely.

Like the time you catch him trying to teach himself how to cook.

“Steve,” you say, barely holding back a laugh as you step into the kitchen and find him staring intently at a cookbook, his apron already dusted with flour. “What are you doing?”

“Trying to make pancakes,” he says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“At eight o’clock at night?”

“Breakfast for dinner is underrated,” he says with a grin.

The pancakes are terrible—burnt on the outside, raw on the inside—but you eat them anyway, laughing together at the absurdity of it all.

Moments like these, small and unexpected, are what make you realize how dangerous this arrangement is becoming.

Because the more time you spend with Steve, the harder it is to ignore the feelings you’ve spent years trying to bury.

It happens gradually, the way you and Steve grow closer.

He starts leaving his door open at night, and sometimes you find yourself lingering in the hallway, talking until your voices grow soft and drowsy. Other times, he joins you on the couch, sitting closer than usual as the two of you share a blanket and argue over what to watch.

The tension between you is subtle but undeniable, a quiet hum that grows louder with each passing day.

One night, after a particularly long dinner with your family—where your mother spent most of the evening hinting that it wasn’t too late for Steve to change his mind—you come home feeling like you might shatter.

Steve finds you sitting on the floor of the living room, your knees pulled to your chest as you stare out the window.

“They’re not worth this,” he says softly, sitting down beside you.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice thick with unshed tears. “But it doesn’t make it hurt any less.”

He doesn’t say anything, just wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you close. The warmth of his embrace is comforting, and for the first time that night, you feel like you can breathe.

“You deserve better,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible.

You don’t respond, but the way you lean into him says more than words ever could.

The months slip by, and the world outside continues to watch, speculate, and gossip. But inside the walls of the penthouse, you and Steve carve out a life that feels uniquely yours.

It’s not perfect—there are moments of doubt and miscommunication, times when the weight of everything threatens to pull you under. But there are also moments of joy and connection, moments that remind you why you agreed to this in the first place.

And as you sit together one night, sharing a quiet meal and laughing over something inconsequential, you realize that somewhere along the way, this marriage stopped feeling like an arrangement.

It started feeling like home.

The nights blur together in a haze of quiet companionship. You and Steve continue to drift closer, though neither of you acknowledges it outright. It’s in the little things: the way he pours your coffee just the way you like it without asking, the way you find yourself lingering in the kitchen just to hear him hum softly while he cooks.

And then there’s the night everything changes.

It starts innocently enough. You’re sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over your legs as you both watch a late-night movie. Steve looks as relaxed as you’ve ever seen him, his long legs stretched out on the ottoman, his arm resting along the back of the couch.

“You’re going to fall asleep,” he teases when your head droops for the third time.

“I’m not,” you mumble, though the weight of your eyelids betrays you.

He chuckles softly. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

You barely manage to shuffle down the hallway, exhaustion tugging at your every step. When you finally collapse onto the edge of your bed, you don’t even bother to change out of your clothes, too tired to care.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Steve says from the doorway, but you’re already slipping into unconsciousness.

When you wake up hours later, it takes you a moment to realize what’s different. The room is dark, but the steady warmth beside you is unmistakable.

You turn your head, your breath catching as you see Steve sprawled on his back, one arm draped over his face. He must have come to check on you and fallen asleep without meaning to.

For a moment, you think about waking him, but something stops you. Maybe it’s the way his face looks so peaceful in sleep, or maybe it’s the comfort of his presence. Whatever the reason, you close your eyes again, letting the soft rhythm of his breathing lull you back to sleep.

The next morning, you expect things to feel awkward, but Steve acts as if nothing unusual happened. If anything, he seems more relaxed, his smile a little softer, his touches lingering just a fraction longer.

That night, as you stand in the doorway of your room, you hesitate.

“Steve?” you call, your voice barely above a whisper.

He looks up from his place on the couch, his book resting in his lap. “Yeah?”

“Would you—” You hesitate, your cheeks flushing. “Would you mind sleeping here again? I just... I slept better with you there.”

You half expect him to laugh, but he doesn’t. Instead, he closes his book and sets it aside, his expression unreadable.

“Of course,” he says simply.

The warmth that spreads through your chest is almost overwhelming.

That night, you fall asleep with the quiet reassurance of his presence beside you, and when you wake up to find his arm draped lightly over your waist, you don’t move.

The next few weeks are a delicate balancing act. You and Steve don’t talk about the nights you spend together, but they quickly become a routine. He starts reading in your room before bed, and you find yourself looking forward to the quiet moments before sleep when you can hear the low timbre of his voice as he reads aloud.

But the outside world isn’t as accommodating.

It begins at a family dinner, one of the infrequent but mandatory gatherings your mother insists on hosting. The Rogers family is there, Steve’s parents a picture of poise and sophistication. Your own family is on their best behavior at first, their voices sugary sweet as they discuss inconsequential topics.

But then the conversation shifts.

“So,” your mother says, fixing you with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “How are you settling in? Married life seems to agree with you.”

“It does,” you say, keeping your tone polite.

“It must be so exciting,” Sharon interjects, her voice dripping with feigned enthusiasm. “Starting a life together, building a future...” She pauses, her eyes gleaming. “Planning for children.”

Your fork stills on your plate, but before you can respond, your mother jumps in.

“Yes, children are so important, aren’t they?” she says, looking pointedly at you. “I’m sure you’ll want to start soon, won’t you? After all, a family name like Rogers needs an heir.”

Your stomach churns, but you force a smile. “We’re taking things one step at a time,” you say evenly.

“Oh, but don’t wait too long,” your mother continues, ignoring your words entirely. “Sharon always said she wanted at least three. Isn’t that right, dear?”

Sharon smiles sweetly. “Of course. I’d already have one by now if I were in Y/N’s position.”

The words hang heavy in the air, a pointed reminder of everything they think you’re failing to be.

Steve’s fork clinks against his plate, and when you glance at him, his expression is stony.

“That’s enough,” he says, his voice calm but carrying an unmistakable edge. “Y/N and I will handle things in our own time. And I’d appreciate it if we could leave it at that.”

Your mother’s smile falters, but she quickly recovers, smoothing her napkin over her lap. “Of course,” she says, her tone saccharine. “We’re just so eager for you two to start a family. It’s such a big responsibility, being part of the Rogers legacy.”

Steve doesn’t respond, his jaw tight. You don’t miss the way his mother raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your family’s behavior.

The rest of the dinner passes in strained silence, and by the time you return home, your nerves are frayed.

“I’m sorry,” you say as soon as the door closes behind you.

Steve frowns, shrugging off his jacket. “What are you apologizing for?”

“For them,” you say, wrapping your arms around yourself. “For the way they act, the things they say... It’s not fair to you.”

Steve crosses the room in two strides, his hands coming to rest gently on your shoulders. “Y/N,” he says softly, his eyes meeting yours. “You don’t have to apologize for them. None of this is your fault.”

You nod, though the knot in your chest remains.

He hesitates, then pulls you into a hug, his arms wrapping around you with a quiet strength that makes your knees weak.

“They don’t get to define you,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your hair. “Not them, not anyone. You’re more than enough, Y/N. You always have been.”

The words break something inside you, and for the first time in a long time, you let yourself cry.

Steve doesn’t let go, holding you tightly until the tears finally subside. And when you pull back to look at him, the tenderness in his gaze steals the breath from your lungs.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Always,” he says, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

That night, as you lie in bed with Steve’s arm draped protectively around you, you feel something shift. The walls you’ve spent years building are starting to crumble, and for once, you’re not afraid.

The nights you share become a solace, a quiet refuge from the chaos of the outside world. Steve is patient, never pushing, always letting you set the pace. And though neither of you says it outright, the way he holds you, the way he looks at you, speaks volumes.

Your family continues to hover on the periphery, their expectations weighing heavy. But with Steve by your side, the weight feels a little easier to bear.

And as the days turn into weeks, you find yourself wondering if maybe, just maybe, this could be more than an arrangement.

Maybe it already is.

The penthouse is quiet, save for the soft hum of the city below. You’re curled up on the couch, your laptop balanced precariously on your knees as you type furiously. Working from home has its perks—no dress code, no commute—but today, your focus feels like it’s slipping through your fingers.

The ache in your neck reminds you that you’ve been hunched over for hours, so you decide to take a break. Stretching out your legs, you grab your phone from the coffee table and unlock it.

Scrolling aimlessly through your feed, you skim past news articles, memes, and a few updates from friends. And then you see it.

A headline that makes your blood run cold.

“Steve Rogers Spotted Cozying Up to Wife’s Sister: Is Trouble Brewing in Paradise?”

Your thumb hovers over the screen, trembling. Against your better judgment, you click the link.

The article is riddled with speculation, but it’s the photos that steal the breath from your lungs. One shows Steve and Sharon standing close in what looks like a cozy café, their heads tilted toward each other as if sharing an intimate moment. Another shows Sharon touching Steve’s arm, her smile coy.

The accompanying text twists the knife deeper: Sources say the two have been seen together frequently in recent weeks, sparking rumors of a secret affair. Could Sharon have been Steve’s first choice all along?

Your stomach churns. You know it’s ridiculous—you know Steve, the man who has been nothing but kind and devoted to you, would never betray you like this. But the images... the way they seem to tell a story you don’t want to believe... it’s too much.

Tears blur your vision as you toss your phone aside.

The door clicks open a moment later, and you hear Steve’s familiar footsteps in the foyer.

“Y/N?” he calls, his voice warm but tinged with concern. “I’m home.”

You don’t respond, your hands clenched into fists against your lap as you try to hold back the sob building in your throat.

When Steve appears in the living room, his expression shifts instantly. “Hey, what’s wrong?” He’s beside you in an instant, crouching down so he can look up into your tear-streaked face.

You shake your head, but the tears spill over anyway. “I... I saw something,” you choke out.

His brows knit together in worry. “What did you see?”

You reach for your phone with trembling hands, pulling up the article and thrusting it toward him. He takes it from you, his eyes scanning the screen with growing disbelief.

“Y/N,” he says after a moment, his voice steady but laced with emotion. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“How can it not be?” you whisper, your voice breaking. “The photos... they look so—”

“They’re misleading,” he cuts in gently, his hands reaching for yours. “Please, let me explain.”

You look at him, searching his face for any hint of deceit, but all you see is the same Steve you’ve always known—the man who has been your rock through every storm.

“I ran into Sharon a few weeks ago,” he begins. “She approached me. She wanted to talk, to clear the air about everything that happened between us.”

“And you went to a café with her?” you ask, your voice trembling.

“Yes,” he admits, his gaze unwavering. “Because I wanted to make it clear that my choice was you, Y/N. It’s alwaysbeen you. She was upset, and I didn’t want there to be any lingering tension. But that’s all it was—just a conversation. Nothing more.”

The sincerity in his voice is undeniable, and yet your heart still aches. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to upset you,” he says softly. “I didn’t think it was worth mentioning because, to me, it didn’t mean anything. But I see now that I should have been honest with you from the start. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You look down at your hands, your tears falling silently onto your lap. “I felt like such a fool,” you admit.

“You’re not a fool,” he says firmly, his hands tightening around yours. “You’re the smartest, strongest, most incredible woman I’ve ever known. And I would never, never do anything to hurt you.”

The weight of his words sinks into you, and when you finally meet his gaze, the intensity in his eyes takes your breath away.

“I love you, Y/N,” he says, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And this marriage—it started as a way to protect you, but somewhere along the way, it became so much more. You’re my everything.”

Your breath hitches, tears spilling over anew. “Steve...”

He cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away your tears. “If you don’t feel the same, that’s okay. But I need you to know that my heart is yours. It always has been.”

You shake your head, your hands clutching at his shirt as a sob escapes you. “I do,” you whisper. “I love you too, Steve. I’ve loved you for so long, but I was so afraid you didn’t feel the same.”

A soft, disbelieving laugh escapes him, and his forehead rests against yours. “God, Y/N,” he breathes. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear that.”

The air between you shifts, charged with unspoken longing. His hands slide from your face to your waist, pulling you closer as his lips hover just inches from yours.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his voice barely audible.

You nod, your heart pounding as his lips finally meet yours.

The kiss is slow at first, tentative, as if he’s afraid to push too far. But the moment your hands slide into his hair, pulling him closer, the restraint breaks.

Steve lifts you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom without breaking the kiss. The world fades away, leaving only the two of you as he lays you gently on the bed.

“Are you sure?” he asks, his voice thick with emotion.

“Yes,” you whisper, your hands trembling as you reach for him. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

What follows is a blur of heat and emotion, the culmination of years of unspoken love and longing. Steve’s hands explore every inch of you, his touch reverent, as if memorizing the very essence of you.

He whispers your name like a prayer, his lips tracing a path along your skin as he worships you with a devotion that leaves you breathless.

And when he finally joins you, the connection is so overwhelming, so all-encompassing, that it feels as if the pieces of your heart are finally falling into place.

Afterward, as you lie tangled together in the sheets, his arms wrapped tightly around you, you feel a sense of peace you’ve never known before.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice soft but sure.

“I love you too,” you whisper, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his chest.

And for the first time, you realize that the life you’ve built together isn’t just an arrangement. It’s everything you’ve ever wanted—and so much more.

Things change between you and Steve in ways that are both subtle and monumental. Gone is the polite distance, the carefully maintained boundaries. In its place is something real, something undeniable.

Steve is more affectionate now, his touches lingering longer, his kisses coming more frequently. He pulls you into his lap when you’re watching TV, twirls you around the kitchen while dinner simmers on the stove, and presses his lips to the back of your neck as you work at your laptop.

You, in turn, find yourself doing little things for him—pressing his shirts for work even though he’s perfectly capable of doing it himself, surprising him with homemade cookies when he mentions a craving, sneaking into his office at lunch just to kiss him.

The shift doesn’t go unnoticed, especially at family dinners.

On the next one, held at your parents’ estate, the tension in the air is palpable from the moment you walk in. You and Steve arrive arm in arm, his hand resting comfortably on your lower back. When you lean into him slightly as your mother greets you, Sharon’s eyes narrow.

The evening unfolds as expected: your parents ask loaded questions about your life together, Sharon hovers like a shadow, and the Rogers look vaguely unimpressed by everything.

But something’s different.

You’re not the quiet, uncertain woman who let her family’s jabs and comparisons chip away at her. Not anymore. Steve’s presence beside you, his unwavering support, has given you a strength you didn’t know you had.

When your mother comments on how lovely Sharon looks, her gaze darting toward Steve as if to gauge his reaction, you smile sweetly.

“Yes, Sharon’s always been so polished,” you say, lacing your fingers through Steve’s. “But I think I’ve been glowing lately. Don’t you think, Steve?”

He looks down at you, his eyes warm and amused. “Absolutely,” he says without hesitation. “You’re the most beautiful woman in any room.”

Your mother’s smile falters, and Sharon’s fork clatters against her plate. You don’t miss the way her cheeks flush with anger, nor the way she glares at you when she thinks no one’s looking.

Dinner continues in much the same way. Every time Sharon tries to draw Steve’s attention or steer the conversation in her favor, Steve redirects it back to you.

“You must miss being on the dating scene, Steve,” Sharon says at one point, her tone light but her eyes sharp.

“Not at all,” Steve replies easily, his hand resting on your knee under the table. “I’ve got everything I could ever want right here.”

By the time dessert is served, Sharon looks ready to explode. You sip your coffee with a smug smile, enjoying the rare satisfaction of seeing her knocked off her pedestal.

After dinner, your parents pull you and Steve aside.

“Why don’t you stay the night?” your mother suggests, her tone saccharine. “It’s been so long since you spent any real time here. We could all have breakfast together tomorrow.”

Steve hesitates, glancing at you. He’s always careful not to push you into situations you might not want, but tonight, you feel bold.

“That sounds lovely,” you say, surprising even yourself.

Your mother beams, clearly pleased to have you under her thumb for a little longer. Sharon’s jaw tightens, and you can’t help but enjoy the way her evening seems to be going from bad to worse.

Your old bedroom hasn’t changed much. The floral wallpaper, the antique vanity, the plush pink comforter—it’s all a reminder of the girl you used to be.

Steve steps inside, looking almost out of place in the overly feminine space. He closes the door behind him, his eyes sweeping over the room before landing on you.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asks, his voice low.

You smile, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’m more than okay.”

His hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer. “You were amazing tonight,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Did you see Sharon’s face?” you ask, grinning. “She looked like she wanted to scream.”

Steve chuckles, his lips brushing against your temple. “You were enjoying that a little too much.”

“Maybe,” you admit, your grin widening. “But can you blame me?”

He laughs again, his hands sliding up your back. The mood shifts as his laughter fades, replaced by something deeper, something more intense.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, his gaze dropping to your lips.

The heat in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and before you can respond, his mouth is on yours.

The kiss is slow and deliberate, his hands roaming your body with a reverence that leaves you breathless. When he lifts you onto the bed, his weight pressing you into the mattress, you feel a thrill of anticipation.

You arch against him, your fingers tangling in his hair as he kisses a trail down your neck. The sounds you make are uninhibited, each gasp and moan spilling from your lips without thought.

“Y/N,” he murmurs, his voice rough with need. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your hands gripping his shoulders. “I want this. I want you.”

Your heart pounds as he takes his time, his touch both gentle and insistent. Every caress, every kiss, every whispered word is a promise, a reminder of the love you share.

When he finally moves within you, the sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of passion and tenderness. The headboard creaks against the wall, and you can’t help the sounds that escape you—louder, more desperate, as you lose yourself in the moment.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you remember that Sharon’s room is on the other side of the wall, but instead of holding back, you let the knowledge fuel you.

Steve seems to sense it too, his movements becoming more deliberate, his mouth capturing your cries in heated kisses.

Afterward, as you lie tangled together in the aftermath, your skin slick with sweat and your heart still racing, you can’t help but smile.

“You’re incredible,” Steve murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“So are you,” you reply, turning to kiss him softly.

The satisfaction of the night lingers as you drift off in his arms, the weight of your love for each other wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

The next morning, Sharon avoids you entirely, her lips pressed into a tight line as you join the family for breakfast. You sip your coffee with a serene smile, enjoying the quiet triumph of knowing that for once, she’s the one who’s been bested.

Steve catches your eye across the table, his gaze filled with warmth and affection. You’ve never felt more certain that you’re exactly where you’re meant to be.

[azzifuddfanpage]

I have yet to see a fanfic featuring the famous love and basketball scene .. where they play 1v1 in the dorm for clothes. So strip basketball. So do with this what you will.

Love and basketball

————

2.6k words

p receiving * if u wanna see Azzi receiving I did the same story but switched it around so Azzi was receiving 🫶 Tw: smut/ swearing

themes: strip basketball/ p receiving

————

It was a Friday night after summer preseason workouts, everyone had for the most part retired to their own rooms, except for kk, ice, and Jana who’s voices carried through the living room.

Over the summer, the girls had no other commitments aside from their practices that were three times a day. Morning shoot around, weight room , practice, weight room again, then a break, and a couple hours later weight room again, scrimmages, and recovery. By the end of the day, the entire team was wiped.

Often Paige and Azzi would use this as an opportunity to “accidentally” fall asleep in each other dorms (usually paige’s since it was cleaner). They would start with a movie and eventually fall asleep- this would have happened either way.

It was perfect though, the perfect plan, for the perfect summer, of the perfect season where both paige and Azzi would be back and full strength together- nothing was stopping them from their championship now.

——— 

Tonight paige and Azzi were cuddled up watching love and basketball- their favorite movie. 

Paige could feel Azzi’s head sink down on her shoulder, heightened with sleep. Paige smiled contently to herself, wrapping her arm around the peaceful brunette.

About an hour and 12 minutes into the movie 😉-paige knew this by heart, the strip scene came up. 

She looked down at Azzi smirking, Azzi who was almost asleep opened one eye, feeling paige’s gaze on her. 

“Oh my god paige enough- no- I’m tired.” Azzi said rolling her eyes and nuzzling herself farther into paige’s chest.

“Come on Azzi it would be fun.” Paige whined pulling away so Azzi was forced to sit up. 

“No paige not tonight.” Azzi pouted pulling away pillow down and putting her head on that defiantly.

Paige smirked, she wasn’t giving up that easily.

Paige simply leaned backl agaisnt the head board. 

“I mean you’re right since I would probably win anyway. Paige snickered folding her arms above her head teasingly.

Azzi looked up, her eyes being drawn to the gap of bear skin showing between the band of her sweatpants and her shirt, she could make out the faint pink of the thong she was wearing. Azzi could have sworn her mouth was literally watering, desperate for it to be on paige’s pussy.

After a few minutes of a strong internal battle, Azzi gave in.

“Fine but only because I’m gonna win.” Azzi stated sliding off the bed to grab paige’s mini basketballs from across the room.

Paige smirked as Azzi bent over to grab them, but was caught as Azzi turned around before she could look away. 

“Wow the game hasn’t even started and you’re already undressing me with your eyes.” Azzi laughed, throwing the ball to hit paige in the head.

“Ya whatever, it’s gonna happen eventually anyway because I’m gonna win.” Paige said throwing the ball in the air and catching it.

Azzi laughed making her way over to paige.

“So same rules?” Azzi asked. “You make a shot, I take something off. I score, you take something off.” Azzi continued crawling on the bed so she was straddling paige.

Paige gulped, the heat between her legs was already growing and she couldn’t help herself but secretly want to loose so Azzi would win and touch her.

“Nah it’s too easy little miss sharpshooter,” paige started, “I say we make it harder… I make a shot, you have to make it the same way, if you don’t get it you take a piece of clothing off- one of my choosing- and then you make a shot and I have to make it from the same spot, if I miss, you take a piece off me. By the end whoever is completely naked gets strapped.” Paige finished confidently.

“Wow I didn’t realize you were okay with being strapped.” Azzi laughed leaning forward and rubbing her finger along paige’s upper lip.

“Who says I’m gonna be strapped?” Paige said shocked putting a hand to her heart as if she had been stabbed.

Azzi laughed and rolled over off of paige’s stomach so they were laying side by side next to the door. 

“Ladies first” Azzi smirked, causing paige to pout.

“Hey I’m supposed to be saying that to you.” Paige whined glaring at Azzi who was laughing at her. 

“Are you not a lady?” Azzi asked.

Paige just rolled her eyes, “ugh fine whatever. We can start easy baby don’t worry.” Paige smirked, sitting up in the bed and shooting the mini basketball at the net on her door.

“Swish”

“Nothing but net” paige said triumphantly. 

“Wow someone must have been practicing.” Azzi laughed. “You would absolutely kill those 5 year old boys who also have these in their rooms.” Azzi continued arcing the ball and throwing it up so it splashed through the net barely missing the rim.

“That was okay I guess- maybe less rim next time but it’s okay!” Paige smiled. 

Azzi rolled her eyes. 

“Alright tough guy.” Azzi huffed. She lay back on the bed so she was horizontal, and through the ball up so it would swish through the net.

“Easy” paige said confidently, matching her form, laying down, and shooting the ball right into the net. 

“Get ready to take off that shirt.” She continued, not wasting a minute. 

Staying in the same position, head against the pillow, she looked at Azzi and shot the ball without looking, her eyes never leaving Azzi’s. 

Both of them could feel the charge in the air, it was strong, and it made it hard for Azzi to focus- as she could feel paige’s warm breath against her neck. 

“Swish”

“Alright baby let’s see it.” Paige smirked getting ready to collect her prize.

Just as she expected the ball bounced in and out. 

“YES! LETS FUKCING GO” paige shouted leaping upright to watch with wide eyes as Azzi lifted the shirt over her shoulders.

Paige was staring at her white sports bra, her nipples poking through the thin fabric.

She licked her lips.

“your turn Azzi.” She said, her voice a little softer now that the game was getting more real. 

Azzi smirked, switching the ball to one hand and lobbing it at the net, her form a little less graceful- but it still sunk through the net. 

“Damn I don’t even know how the fuck you just made that with that form.” Paige laughed. “You’re lucky Geno wasn’t here.” She continued, lining herself to take her shot. 

“No trust me. You’re lucky.” Azzi whispered into her ear as the ball left her hand and rattled off the rim.

“Bruh you are such a cheater. You messed me up.” Paige whined irritated. 

“I didn’t do a thing.” Azzi said laughing as Paige pouted. Thank god she was so easy to fluster.

“Oh and you can take off your shirt too.” Azzi said sizing paige up.

Paige huffed leaning up in the bed and pulling off her t shirt so she was wearing only her sports bra as well. 

Paige was a little more rattled now than she liked to admit. She took her shot, turning around and throwing it over her head. 

It rattled out of the net.

“Now why would you even think that would go in….” Azzi laughed. “Why do I feel like you just want to be strapped at this point.” She continued turning around and lining herself up. 

She needed to make this, who knew if she would ever get this opppirtunity again. She leaned back and through the ball over her head.

By some how, the ball magically swished through the net.

“Are you fucking kidding??? How the fuck did you just make that.” Paige groaned throwing her head back against the pillow. 

Azzi’s breath hitched at the slight flex of paige’s jaw. She loved when she got all competitive like this. 

“Just motivated I guess.” Azzi said as she ran her fingers along paige’s jaw. 

Paige was irritated now, if Azzi was going to cheat, this wouldn’t be as much fun as she thought. How was she going to control herself with Azzi sitting so close with her half naked.

Paige grumbled and pulled off her bra, her perky breasts popping out, the cold air hardening her nipples. She was siked out now. 

She watched as Azzi’s eyes glaanced over her body lovingly, paige could feel the wetness grow between her legs- she was screwed if she had to take off her pants.

Azzi kept her eyes on her and sunk another one. Paige couldn’t help herself but feel a chill run along her body. 

She was embarrassed at the effect Azzi was having on her, so early too. Paige kept her eyes on Azzi trying to mimic her no look shot, but her eyes couldn’t help but wander to Azzi’s lips, distracted by their plumpness and the way Azzi’s tongue ran cross them, wetting them. 

Paige shot the ball, and even without looking new it didn’t go in as she could see the satisfaction all over Azzi’s face. 

Azzi smirked. “You need help with your pants P?” Azzi laughed as she could see paige’s cheeks redden instantly. 

“No actually I don’t.” Paige huffed. Reaching down and pulling her pants down her legs and throwing them across the room and landing them in the hamper. 

“Now if only your shots would fall like that in the net” Azzi smirked her eyes trailing down paige’s body and landing on her pink thong. 

“Fucking knew you were wearing those you slut.” Azzi teased. 

“Whatever” paige said trying to keep a straight face but part of her was crumbling at Azzi’s words. 

Paige leaned forward onto her stomach, teasing Azzi as she arched a little, feeling confident as she could hear Azzi’s breath catch in her throat. 

She through the ball up underhand and smiled to herself as it arced and landed in the net.

Azzi crawled over, a little rattled from paige’s sudden boldness, and repeated her motion.

Unfortunately the ball rimmed a couple times and fell out, bouncing off the rim. 

“Got what you wanted huh.” Azzi said as she pulled her bra off over her head letting her perfect tits spill out. 

Paige smirked staring at the beautiful girl in front of her. 

“Knew you wouldn’t last long against me.” Paige sneered reaching for Azzi’s breasts. 

“Hey no touchjng til after.” Azzi said, pulling away. 

“You’re right, the victory will feel better when the first thing that touches you is my strap.” Paige smirked confidently, as Azzi lined herself up for her shot sinking it in.

She turned to paige seductively. 

Paige began to line herself up with the net, Azzi smirked and leaned in towards her ear. 

“Gonna have to fuck the attitude out of you aren’t I.” Azzi practically moaned in her ear. 

Paige, completely shocked by Azzi’s choice of words through the ball up and watched as it bounced off the rim. 

“Fuck” paige said under her breath. 

“It’s okay Paigey I’ll be gentle.” Azzi winked, getting up from the bed and making her way over to the closet. 

“You’re such a cheater.” Paige whined, throwing herself against the bed and putting her arms over her face. 

Azzi returned and crept towards paige.

She took of the remainder of her clothes and slid on the harness.

“Take your pants off paige.” Azzi said dominantly, inching towards her.

Once paige’s pants were off, and she lay in front of her completely bare, Azzi couldn’t help but let her eyes wonder all over her body. She traced every birthmark, every freckle with her eyes, trying to paint a permanent picture in her mind. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Azzi sighed as she climbed onto the bed and crawled up so her hips were over paige’s mouth. 

“Sit up and suck.” Azzi ordered, shoving it towards paige’s mouth. 

Irritated, paige did as she was told. 

At first she was a little more timid, licking the tip and putting the head in her mouth, but she got more confident and began to feel the strap hit the back of her throat. 

“Doing so good for me baby.” Azzi moaned as she watched paige look up at her with big needy eyes. 

Azzi pulled the strap out of her with a pop. And ran the tip along her bare stomach, leaving a trail of her own saliva all the way down to her clit.

She rubbed a few tight circles against her already puffy clit, and watched as paige wiggled underneath her. 

“Fuck Azzi just put it in oh my god.” Paige groaned trying to move her hips so the strap was directly above her entrance. 

Azzi laughed, “should have made better shots huh baby.” 

“Give me a break Azzi you were literally cheating.” Paige whined as Azzi ran the strap through her folds.

“Fine whatever, you can call it cheating, I call it using my resources, but what’s done is done. You are going to take this strap and let me fuck you, and you are going to be a good girl. 

Paige whimpered at her words, nodding her head submissively. 

With that Azzi thrust the strap into her, causing paige to let out a gasp at the unfamiliar pressure. 

She wasn’t used to this feeling of being filled up. She tried to adjust to the thickness inside of her, but Azzi pulled out quickly. 

Paige caught her breath, but was a series of moans again as Azzi began to play with her clit. 

“Taking me so well baby.” Azzi said as she slid the strap back into her, watching as her soaping pussy sucked it in. 

Paige moaned and wiggled under her touch. 

She could feel the strap banging into her walls as Azzi sped up her pass, thrusting into her with more force.

Paige groaned, her fingers crawling at Azzi’s back, begging Azzi to push deeper inside of her.

“I’m so close holy fuck.” Paige moaned, feeling her walls start tighten and clamp around the strap. 

Right as she was nearing release Azzi pulled out.

Paige was startled, “wha- why did you do that. Fuck Azzi” paige started but was cut off when Azzi told her to get on all fours.

Desperate to reach her climax, paige did as she was told, getting onto all fours and arching her back to give Azzi access to her pink pussy. 

Paige wiggled her butt, desperate for Azzi to fill her up again, and before she new it, Azzi was pounding back into her with so much force paige could have sworn she was ripping through her cervix. 

“FUCK DONT STOP RIGHT THERE” paige shouted as Azzi hit her g spot. 

Paige could feel herself loose control, her cum spilling out and down her legs.

Azzi moved her fingers to start to rub against her clit, pulling the strap out, letting the rest of paige’s cum pour out of her and onto the sheets. 

Paige flipped over onto her stomach, her breathing ragged as she stared up at Azzi who was continuing to ride out her high. 

“Did so good for me baby.” Azzi said leaning down to press a kiss to paige’s sensitive clit. 

“Don’t get used to this.” Paige smirked as Azzi lay down next to her. 

“Ya we will see about that.” Azzi challenged snuggling back up against paige. 

[eldritch-spouse]

I want Breg to grind his slit against mine 😔

The pressure would force his cocks to stay inside, but it would bulge enough to add some bumpy pleasure 🥴

[This is more of a struggle session than actual sex. Fem reader.]

TW: Unhygienic(?)

You wouldn't exactly say you're a sadist, but it's funny to watch the way Breg reacts to certain punishments.

Because even if this monster supposedly endured a past that centered mostly around the act of mating, it seems he's still far behind most others in terms of creative perversion.

Evidenced by moments such as these, if the way he's nearly visibly fuming trying to understand what you meant is anything to go by.

" You want me to keep them inside? " Breg tilts his head.

" Yep. " You confirm for the third time.

" But that way I can't make love to you, angel! "

" That's the whole point, Breg. "

He frowns, then pauses.

" Can I eat you out? "

" No. "

" C- Can you suck my slit? "

" Nope. "

With every rejection, he deflates a bit more.

The breeder glances at his tail, synapses connecting to form the dubious figment of a terrible idea.

" Can I- "

" No. " You emphasize, giving him a stern look.

The terms have been laid out clearly. After his latest impulsive stunt, which has earned you yet another ban from one of your favorite stores, you've decided Breg won't be fucking you for a while. This means he cannot penetrate you in any way, in any orifice, with any part of himself. And you're not touching his dicks at any capacity.

This leaves Breg with only one ridiculous option, relying on his slit for a mockery of stimulation...

You know it's a bit cruel to take a hypersexual monster's relief away so radically, but these kinds of punishments are usually the ones that stick the most with Breg and reap better results in the long-run. This is a necessary evil if you are to succeed in your seemingly impossible task of adapting this fool of a monster to modern society.

" You're so mean to me sometimes. "

The audacity to call you mean after the scene he made almost makes a blood vessel pop in your forehead.

" You can always wait it out. " As if.

You had a movie lined up to watch together if he miraculously agreed.

" But I don't want to... "

You shrug at the breeder. Then he ought to sort himself out, as far as you care.

Breg whines some more, hoping against all odds that you'd have a change of heart and allow the sweaty, horny monster looming over you to have his way. No such luck.

Sagging in defeat, Breg palms over his pelvis, tracing his own slit but not teasing it directly. Just enough to make himself shudder and huff. His unseen eyes are fixed on you while he paws at himself like some pathetic creature, you can only imagine half the scenes that must be unfolding in that fried brain and causing his hips to shift forward occasionally.

Frankly, for as much as he complains, Breg would be able to get off just fine if you told him he could only look at you. He's just that easy.

When Breg dips to shamelessly huff at your neck and chest, you lean your head to take a look at the situation below, finding the breeder already soaking the couch with the precum dripping off his slit, two fingers hastily stuffed in there, no doubt trying to stimulate the tips of his cocks.

He's a smart-enough guy, he knows this is the only way he can directly stimulate them. One miscalculation and they'll slip out, immediately ruining his chance to get off around you.

That doesn't make it any less of a pitiful, almost comedic act to see. The puffs of his hot breath around your neck cast goosebumps across your skin as it becomes humid, Breg breathes shallower in an attempt to get as much of your scent as he can, speed his own motions to keep up a semblance of stimulus. The monster groans something against your skin, his dominant arm straining with effort and fast, slick sounds ringing across the room. If the way his tail thrashes is any indication, this isn't really doing it for him, but he's trying.

And that matters.

" Good boy. " You encourage him, a small hand holding his head closer to you.

Although he gasps and moans in delight at your praise, Breg's irritation only grows. " 'S not enough... " He huffs.

" Yeah it is, you can get there. " You're fairly certain Breg could get off by just moving his hips against air.

" Noo- " His fingers' motions slow rapidly. " I need more, need to mate you- "

" Nope. "

" Angel please-! "

" No. "

Breg takes his hands off his pouch and buries his head on your chest, swaying in the discomfort of his own arousal.

" Please please please please please- "

Gods if his begging never fails to make the temperature in a room rise some degrees... But you can't be that weak willed with a monster like Breg, it just doesn't work.

" Not happening. And if you keep complaining then I'll just leave. "

" No- " His claws nearly sink onto your sides from the quick hold he established at those words. " No please, I'm sorry. "

You roll your eyes. " Apology accepted. "

Again, a few seconds pass as the breeder thinks of what he can do to make things work. You let him have all the time in the world to come up with an idea, because you would also struggle in his place. There are moments where Breg looks as if he wants to give up, but his determination to satisfy his desires has always been stronger. At some point, he settles on what to do, and the first move is to start tugging at your comfy bottoms.

" What are you doing? " It's more genuine curiosity than anything. You told him he couldn't eat you out, after all.

" Don't worry about it, angel. "

All you do is squint and watch as Breg quickly removes your clothes and dips between your legs. Although aware that he can't sample you, he decides that there's no issue if he flattens his tongue against your panties. Breg hums, disappointed that there's little taste but that of cotton, no matter how hard he presses against the folds of your clothed cunt.

His teeth catch onto the fabric while he begins to pull it down, removing the garment, another flash of pain on his face at knowing that he can't dive for the gold.

Once your panties are out of the way, you get to watch the monster think about how he's going to do this.

He tries to slot himself between your legs the way he normally would, pressing himself as close to you as possible. The results... Weren't that great. Breg tries and tries to readjust, but he's not getting the needed friction every time he awkwardly humps.

With a muffled curse, he pulls back and starts brainstorming again, moving parts of you from side to side, impatient. You roll your eyes throughout it, eventually ending up with one leg spread the other pushed up- Not the most comfortable.

Breg shifts then, twisting himself to fit the way he wants, like some kind of puzzle piece. More importantly, you now get what he was trying to do all this time, achieve friction from his slit directly to your pussy. Brow rising, you actually wonder if this will work for him.

Little did you expect that it would work for you too...

By sheer virtue of his frustration, the force Breg uses to grind his slit against your entrance applies enough pressure that it feels as though your clitoris is being squished and rolled around just right, making a shiver crawl up your spine at the sudden stimulus. Every muscle in his body tenses with his effort to find the perfect angle, the perfect rhythm, leading to some very frantic humping in-between harsh grinding rolls.

You didn't really expect to get invested in this. It's just a punishment, after all. But the breeder's misery proves to be a reliable and effortless source of consistent pleasure, enough that you're getting wet and biting your bottom lip, encouraging him with a few of your own motions to aid his pace. As wet as you may be, Breg manages to be wetter, soaking your cunt with his precum that allows for a steady sort of slide against each other.

Your excitement seems to be the missing trick, for as soon as Breg senses it, you can feel the way his cocks angrily push at a barrier they're not allowed to break, causing his slit to bump out humorously- But deliciously so.

Breg sweats and pants as if enduring a great workout, unsubtly drooling out the side of his mouth, grit-teeth betraying a pathetic fight for a climax that might not come at all. Eventually, his complexion starts twisting in a shocked and confused expression.

" What's... What's wrong? " You'd been clutching one of the cushions by now, hoping this would either make you climax or just feel good for a while longer.

" It feels- Feels weird. " The monster groans. " Keeping them in for so long... I- Hnng- "

You can only imagine what it must be like. It occurs to you that maybe, just maybe, his cocks swelled enough with desperation that they might be stuck in his body, squeezing against each other, unable to move. If it were painful, Breg would have gotten scared and stopped most likely, so you assume he's just crumbling under way too much pressure on his lengths.

" Ah, they're stuck? " You tease.

He halts entirely. " N-... No. "

You've said this a couple of times, and you'll say it again, one of Breg's few redeeming qualities is that he's a terrible liar.

" Then, I guess you can pull them out. "

" Huh?! " Had there not been that layer of skin in front of his eyes, they would have popped out his sockets. " Really? You mean it?! "

" Of course. " There's a limit to your blatant sadism. Or maybe not, because you know damn well he's not going to be able to push them out under this much arousal.

Breg immediately pulls back from you, holding still as he tries, rather humorously, to relax enough that, miraculously, his cocks protrude.

It's not happening. The monster huffs and whines, getting upset at himself as he even resorts to reaching in with a digit. No results.

Mildly amused, you push him further back, so that you can sit on the couch while he stands, nearly at face level with his poor, puffed slit. Small hands cling to his thighs as you rest your chin on his skin and glance up.

" Come on, Breg. I'm waiting... Don't you want me to play with them? " Your tongue hangs out, taunting and soft and warm.

If he wasn't desperate before, he sure is now, tail swishing near violently as he realizes his predicament. Helpless, the only thing Breg can do is thrill himself with the view of you so very eager to suck him off, and nudge his wet slit against your face. White claws reach down to grab locks of your hair and play with them, stroking over the sides of your cheeks and bringing you closer, as if that would fix the situation.

Ultimately, the only solution would be for him to calm down, because only with less arousal would his members deflate and his slit stop tensing enough for it to work out. But Breg has put too much work into this exercise to let it go to waste, so he's reluctant to back down.

In the end, all the breeder does is groan, almost on the verge of crying, while he attempts to get you to touch him at any capacity. Gentle hands palp the overheated and swollen skin.

" Please just- " He huffs, the denial and frustration melting into a desperate discomfort that has him rolling his head back. " I just need to cum, Angel please. "

Gave up, did he? Adorable.

Breaking the rule set earlier, you dip to kiss Breg's leaking slit, a short tongue ravishing it from top to bottom. Even when you try to squeeze it in and directly lick his throbbing cocks, they're so tightly packed together that you can hardly flirt with either. It doesn't stop you from trying.

On his end, the breeder seems grateful at last, taking this as the opportunity it is by rapidly grabbing both sides of your head and clumsily, feverishly, trying to roll his need against you. Again, he achieves a gross sort of hump against your beautiful face, even the protrusion of your nose serving to stimulate him further as he all but nearly rubs himself all over you.

With your ears covered by pale, wide palms and constant mouthfuls of overheated flesh coated in the tang of precum, you fail to pick up on the increasing volume of Breg's cries, the way they become monstrous and shameless in his finally approaching peak.

In the end, the only tell you have is the rapid twitching of his slit, the way his legs tense and the shifting of his buried cocks, before he bursts.

Maybe oozing is the appropriate word here, you'd say, because the only way Breg's seed can escape him at all is through thick globs pooling at the edge of his pouch and being subsequently pushed out by the remaining shots of his pent up load, dripping warmly to coat his hips and ass.

" A- Ahhn- "

Breg lets go of your head to whine and gasp, hisses making it through the gaps between his teeth, the sensation apparently being foreign and intense to him. He still moves his hips, perhaps hoping that he can grind it out of him faster, or maybe that's just his way of riding out the orgasm without being able to stroke himself.

It shouldn't be turning you on so much to watch the monster struggle, his overstimulation rising as trapped members are forced to keep in contact with his own hot cum, still sticking and dripping off him in a depraved show. Breg shudders, his tail wrapping around your leg for a semblance of comfort while you pet his cheek, greedily watching.

Only after a decent pause of trying to ride it down does the pressure deflate enough to give him some actual relief. The breeder growls in genuine pain when his sore slit is stretched enough, finally allowing two blue, half-hard cocks to pop out, coated in a sheen of his own seed and still pulsing from what you imagine must have been an peculiar climax.

" See? You did just fine. " Praising the horn dog after successful training is key. His shaky smile is all the confirmation you need.

It's a bit hard to resist torturing him a bit more, you think as you sink to your knees in front of the mess he made.

" Now, sit still so I can help clean up. "

[eliciana]

Reverse SAGAU: The Weird Door At My Café

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2(here) | Chapter 3 | ...

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____________________________________

Tw: Reverse!Isekai!Sagau, Normal Au, Café Au, a bit of cussing like this bit 🤏.

Reader: Gn!Reader, Adult!Reader, Café Owner!Reader

Characters: Reader, Paimon, Traveler

Note: Restaurant to Another World animanga inspired au. You can slide into my dms if you ever want to be tagged in my works just tell me what series you want to be tagged in or all of them. thank you <3. Also, I may say that the characters other than the reader may be a bit OOC cause it's been a long time since I played genshin and I'm just finishing all of my works with my knowledge left from playing the game. So sorry about it 🙏🙏.

____________________________________

You stood, motionless, your eyes fixed in disbelief upon the distant scene before you. As the wind cut through the air, a shiver ran down your spine, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The purity of the air surrounded you, carrying with it an intoxicating scent that smelled pure. The warm touch of the sun's rays caressing your skin affirmed that this experience couldn't possibly be a figment of your imagination. A fleeting thought of doubt crept in, but you quickly dismissed it; after all, you had never dabbled in any kind of drugs. This moment, as unbelievable as it seems, had to be undeniably real.

With careful fingers, you gently retrieved your fallen shoe/heel/slipper from the bed of plush, emerald-green grass. As you slipped it back onto your foot, your eyes instinctively wandered upward, transfixed by the expansive stretch of blue sky above you. It was quite unlike the very bright pixelated one you see on your screen. Everything that you see within the door was real and not a nightmare.

____________________________________

After composing yourself, you went inside your cafe, close the door, drag a chair nearest to the door, took a seat on the chair you placed infront of the door, and contemplated life. A deep heavy sigh got out your mouth as you continue looking the the strange thing infront of you. "What now? What do I do? Should I just lock it?" you asked yourself and looked at the door. Welp, well, there goes your master plan. Suprise suprise there's no keyhole and having a key would not make any difference. "Ugh."

You sat up and opened the door again, only to be baffled to see a different scenery other than the distant City of Mondstadt. The door was now currently in the Liyue Harbor. You closed the door and opened it again, you were now in Inazuma. Close, open, and now in Sumeru. Once again, you are now in Fontaine.

"Yeah bye." you closed the door again and returned the chair from where it once was. Contemplating what you should do next, your feet carried you around the whole café. You went to the counter and decided to make yourself something to help with calming yourself first in order to think clearly. It was a good thing that you had brought all of the materials and ingredients you needed in the café because you had thought of opening the café tomorrow. But with how things are now, you don't know what to do.

Teyvat is filled with many dangerous beings such as hilichurls, slimes, etc. You are but a normal human being with no experience in fighting and fighting your baby cousins was not enough of an experience to be able to fight toe to toe with monsters you have only seen through a screen. Yes, a gun would probably best to use but you don't have a permit for that and you don't want to be in jail when you have just barely open your dream café. But nobody had to know, right? What if-

A deep sigh fell from your lips once again. The stress is really getting in to you, huh? The bitter/sweet aroma of (coffee/tea/juice) filled your sense of smell. You were making your favorite, (your choice of coffee/tea/juice). After some time of finishing your drink, you took it along with a (pastry of your choice) that you had in your car, in which you had thought of eating to celebrate the opening, and sat in a chair facing the door. Taking your time in eating/drinking, many thoughts come and go in your head to solve the predicament you are in now. You had even thought of postponing the opening of the café until you had thought of a way on what to do with the door.

Of course you read the fanfics circulating all around the genshin fandom and one of the those that you have read was SAGAU where you might be the imposter or the creator of teyvat or you become a villain or anything in between. The most common of them was being an imposter. What if you were to become the said imposter if one day a person will open the door to your café? What if they kill you? What if-

*creak......*

Your rambling came to a stop as you looked at the door horrified. Oh no no no no no no NO NO NO! YOU JINXED YOURSELF DIDN'T YOU?! THIS DAMNED FATE-

'Oh dear God, Buddha, Allah, Deities, whoever higher being there is, pls help me...' you thought as you clasp your hands, praying to higher beings. Before you could even feel it, tears cascaded down you face to the table. "I'm nOt ReAdy tO dIE yeT... Ughhhhhhhh" you sobbed into your hands loudly like a child lost in a mall.

"Hello?" a person peaked from behind the door.

Fuck.

____________________________________

The Traveler, along with Paimon, was doing their daily quests until they saw something shining in the far distance. Their curiousity made them want to investigate it.

"Hm. Why is a door in the middle of the forest with no support or whatsoever?" Paimon mumbled as the door came into their view. The Traveler also had the same thought.

"Is it perhaps a magic door of some kind? I think w-"

*creak*

The Traveler stopped speaking as the door opened but from where they are right now, they couldn't see who opened the door and couldn't get to ask since the door closed with a loud bang when they were going to get closer.

"Well... that was something..." Paimon looked at the Traveler. "Traveler? What's wrong? BREATHE! YOU'RE GOING TO DIE AT THIS RATE!" Paimon brought tons of fried egg out of the Traveler's bag and smacked it into the Traveler's mouth and forced them to chew the egg.

After confirming the Traveler is back into top condition, Paimon asked them what the hell happened to them.

"I-I don't know. I suddenly felt something when whoever opened that door and the air around me became heavy that it became hard to breathe..." The Traveler shooked their head gently and sighed. "I also felt something strange. The energy of whoever is beyond that door, excluded an aura that is very familiar to me, but I don't know who or what it is."

"Hm. Paimon thinks that we should open that door and see whoever that and see if they truly are familiar to you or maybe perhaps this connection that you feel is related to your sibling!" Paimon twirled around the air, exaggerating her words with her actions.

For once, Traveler thought it was a good idea at first but there is also a flaw in that idea. A flaw that might cause their life if whoever is beyond that door is hostile and will kill them. It is better to be cautious then to be 6ft underground before finding their sibling.

_________________________________________

Taglist:

@udretlnea

[anachronismstellar]

Hey yo, SVSSS fandom, I arrive uh *checks the clock* three years late and at one in the morning because this idea won't leave my head.

I don't think I'm going to write more of it, because I'm already two long fics deep and *shrugs* I'm also too much like our poor Airplane: high on caffeine, without enough time to write all that I want to write, and this idea deserves better

Basically, after canon, the system got bored? And as it can't mess up with the protagonist, it went on to torture our poor Mobei Jun, curious to know why he's Airplane's fav character and the only character that was kept the way Airplane originally wanted the story to be.

It's just a scene, and if you wanna adopt this idea go for it! Just tag me please, I wanna see your takes on it! :D

Anyway, scene under the cut! TW: Canon mentions of blood, torture and- let's be honest, the System itself should be a TW.

Hope you like it!

Mobei Jun couldn't see who said it, the stench of blood and piss burning his nostrils, the room too hot for him to think. Somewhere on his mind, a voice that screamed too much like Shang Qinghua kept repeating, "Get up, get up, get up, GET UP!" but he couldn't move, both his arms and legs bound by heated metal.

----

"Oh, that won't do."

"That won't do at all," the voice repeated, closer than before. Too close, the little Shang Qinghua voice in his mind would say. He forced himself to blink, head lolling to the side as lukewarm hands grabbed his face, pushing his hair back, a thumb pressing on his demon mark.

"You were written to be better than this," the voice- no, the man mumbled, followed by an annoyed "Tsk", his touch slowly bringing Mobei Jun back to the present, blue eyes widening as he recognized the soft yellow An Ding Peak robes.

"Shang Qinghua?" he tried to ask, but for sure, he only managed a gurgled sound, throat too dry to say anything. Besides, the man - should he call it a man? - in front of him had his servant's voice, but his posture was all wrong, too confident, too sure of himself. Daft fingers pressed on his cheeks, forcing him to look up, making his breath stutter.

"User 001 is not available at the moment," the strange man wearing Shang Qinghua's face said with a smile, too polite, too calm. There was also something really wrong with his eyes, as if someone had taken Shang Qinghua's warm brown ones and swapped with a poisonous green that glowed in the dim room.

"Where's Shang Qinghua?" he managed to speak, blood dripping from his lips as the room got impossibly warmer. Mobei Jun could feel in his conscience slipping, his strength melting from his bones as he did his best to keep himself awake, to not close his eyes and let himself even more vulnerable to his torturer.

"User 001 is not available at the moment," the man repeated again, and then once more, as if mocking Mobei Jun's hazy mind. "There, I hope you understand. Important things must be told three times. Now-" The thumb on his demon mark pressed further, the inhuman strenght tearing a scream from Mobei Jun's throat as a pain thin and sharp like a neaddle splited his skull in two. He couldn't think he couldn't breathe- Where was Shang Qinghua- Was he hurt? Did this skinwearer kill him?! He had to-

"Protocol 24978 generated. System's mission engaged: Author's favorite."

None of those words made any sense, what-

"I hope you enjoy our services!"

Mobei Jun's world went blank in a flash of white.

[solar4seekstron]

Chapter 2: Map

Transformers One x reader: Awakening Chapter Two

Chapter One, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six

Transformers One x Cybertronian!GN!reader

Introduction Movie Masterlist

TW/tags: Long chapter, reader’s dragged along, D needs a hug, the reader is safe from Elitas grasp, B and Reader get along very well. You think he funny deal with it lol, I believe that’s all

(Note: Yes chapter 2 lets go! Like chapter one this will be pretty long as well. I also decided to add two characters who I really love, especially MTMTE being Ratchet and Drift. At the time though since it’s before the war Drift is still Deadlock I don’t think he had a different name before becoming a deception so I’ll just be putting Deadlock as a name for the story. I like to think Deadlock in the story has a cog but we don’t see or hear of him. At least I don’t think so I’m going to add him here. If you guys want to imagine him being your favorite bot or cogless that’s totally fine. I’m just having a good time. Ratchet will show up in the medical bay scene later. The two already knowing and have eat Y/N before. Helping give some lore dump of Y/Ns past like hinted earlier in the first chapter. Anyway I hope you all enjoy this long chapter!)

It was the day of the Iacon 5000. Many of the Cybertronians with cogs and not go to the arena to see many races and by far the most exciting thing of the day for them. Y/N is seen walking by their self into the stadium along side other miners and other cybertronians with cogs. They make their way getting a pretty good seat to watch the race. They would seat next to a few miners. Next to Y/N was Deadlock, someone who worked clubs as a bouncer dealing with customers. At first he didn’t notice them since they were so small. They would put their hand on his arm to gently grab his attention causing him to look around confused until he looks down

”Ah. Y/N so glad you could come my dear.” He would put his hand on their back as he continues to talk

”Can’t wait to see the race I see. Must be tiring working all those mines for hours”

”It has it’s moments but just shows how strong I am to do it pretty much everyday.”

”I bet. I can’t imagine how you can do that for so long. Then again I work at a club so I shouldn’t complain. Heh If you had a cog I would be taking you places. A shame really. You cogless bots gotta work all the fragging time. Ain’t fair that I can’t see you all the time.” His arm would then be around their shoulders as he looks forward. Y/N would chuckle to what he said but then look down a little sad. Looking at his hand then forward again as they waited for the race to start. Deadlock continueing to speak to another bot next to him not moving his arm.

*With Orion and D-

D and Orion were walking together as they talked about the race.

“The Iacon 5000 is finally here!”

“I have a surprise for you. Come on.” Orion pats D on the shoulder. Grabbing his attention.

“Where are you going? The stadium is that way.” D says to Orion, turning to look at him.

“Yeah yeah I know. But follow me.” D would sigh and reluctantly follow behind him.

“Great. We’re gonna be late now. I wanted good seats. We came all this way to miss the opening ceremony. This is wonderful.”

“Trust me I know what I’m doing. Hold up. Get caught in one of those. It’ll launch you halfway across the city.”

“Ok where are you taking me?”

“Don't be a glitch, this will be totally worth it. Trust me.”

“Hey you don’t be a glitch. I know this is like fun for you like we joke around but if you make me miss any part of the Iacon 5000 I swear I will smelt your face right off your…”

D soon realizes he and Orion are inside the starter line. Seeing thee crowd and the racers coming in from different directions

“Welcome! To the Iacon 5000. There they are. Put your hands together for todays competitors are taking the field.”

“Look! Look! There’s Thunderglide! And Bahemoth! Unbelievable! I feel like I’m in the race…..You did this..for me?”

“No. I did this…for us.” The two would fist bomb as they looked at eachother

“And now. The moment you all been waiting for. The Icon an Iacon. The Savior of Cybertron. Quintessons fear him but we love him! Our Leader. The One and Only! Sentinel Prime!”

Sentinel Prime would fly down from a tall tower and fly down to the stadium as the lights of the city followed him. Y/N would see him. Deadlock not really caring much rolling his eyes as he removes his arm from around Y/N to check his polish. Y/N would then get the idea and and stand reaching their hand up as high as they can for Sentinel to give them a high five. He will fly close to the the other Cybertronians and give a few high fives as they raised their hands. Sentinel notices them as he flew down seeing them raise thier hand and looking at him. He almost loses focus and makes sure to get to them. Y/N being the last one to get a high five before he goes to his spot in the sky and speaks.

“Yes! It feels so good to be here with you all today! My friends. My Cybertronian family. It has be precisely 50 cycles since the Quintessons attacked our home. 50 cycles since we lost the matrix of leadership and our energon supplied dried up. 50 cycles since the battle that killed the other primes my brothers and sisters in arms. Today we honor the primes who gave their lives for ours and show them that the strength of Cybertron will never be diminished.”

Y/N would watch as the primes appear and start to think to their self as Deadlock cheers wanting the race to start. Deadlock would notice Y/N still standing and chuckles his himself as he looks forward again. Still sitting down.

“Racers! On your marks!” The racers start to transform

“I can’t believe we get to watch from the starting line! At the best seats of the house! Why'd you bring jet packs?”

“Get Set!”

“Its time we show them we are more than meets the eye.”

“Oh no..”

From there Sentinel shoots his blaster and the racers soon start. Deadlock now standing as he cheers for his favorite racer. Y/N watches but then notices two bots flying with jet packs. Them soon looking familiar. They would gasp after the realization of who they are.

“And they’re off!”

From there the two would fall down and Orion would catch D as D was upside down. Him screaming as Orion looked forward with a smile plastered on his face.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Sure feels like it.”

“The Iacon 5000 has begun.”

“Sorry. Are those miners in the race?”

“Miners! Those are miners! Like us!”

“Can’t believe what I’m seeing here. There are miners trying to run in the Iacon 5000!”

“You gotta be kidding me.”

“This is insane!”

“There’s miners in the race!”

“Miners?!”

“Where?!”

“They can’t even transform!”

“It’s Orion Pax and D-16!”

“This is a first in Iacon 5000 history! How are they going to survive?”

“If we survive this I’m going to kill you!”

“I accept those terms!”

“Going into the led down the main strip. Followed by scape and skyfire!”

“Hey look out!”

The two would then have to start running continuing the race

“I owe you one!”

“More like a 1000!”

Sentinel was watching the two run with his hands behind is back in almost disbelief

“I can’t believe we’re not in last place!-“

“Beat it, Miner!”

“Darkwing delivers a devastating blow.”

“We’re not fast enough!”

“Improvise!”

The two say to each other running into a tunnel with the other racers. One by one the two would jump on another Cybertronian. D continuing to be polite to the others being a big fan while Orion was sort of having fun at that moment. Soon D would save Orion and the two continue to run joining together to jump out

“Time this right! And. Now!”

“Move!”

One of the racers say trying to warn D. But it was too late and D was hit. Soon D was over the edge but Orion was able to catch him just in time and pull him up. The two ran again before stopping.

“And the miners have fallen way behind. We can now focus on the real contenders on this race.”

The two would then get an idea

“I don’t believe it! The miners take down Darkwing!”

“Ugh! Miners!!”

“Great effort Darkwing!”

“It's all worth it. It actually worked!”

“Is this the dumbest thing we’ve ever done?”

“Oh yeah it’s up there!”

“Wait. Go go go.”

“Four blocks pile up in the magnetic tunnel that the miners are now in first position! This is unbelievable.”

“D!”

“Go! Go! Leave me!”

“No! We do this together!”

“One miner is now carrying the other! Mere steps from the finish line. The most amazing sensational, dramatic, hard working, exciting, thrilling finish in the history of-“

“Yeah!!”

“We have a winner. Chromia comes to take the price! Talk about an Iacon 5000 for the ages.”

“Well second place is still pretty good.”

Then other racers would past them

*After the Race and Orion and D are taken to the Med Bay

Y/N stands up and starts heading to the exits . Deadlock noticed and walks after them.

”Woah hey where are you going?”

“Those two are my friends. I have to make sure they’re all right!”

Deadlock would grab their arm stopping them as other bots walk past the two and he stands next to them

”Don’t worry I’’m sure the doctors and nurses will take good care of them. Come on let me take you out and grab a drink before your shifts.” He puts a hand on their back as they looked up at him

”Maybe next time Lock but I care about my friends. I’ll see you at the next race yeah? I should really go.” They would pat his arm gently as they then leave. Deadlock putting his hands on his hips as he watches them ;eave. Seeming almost disappointed and upset before walking away with the other bots.

*The Medical Bay-

“Reaching Dr. Ratchet. Dr. Ratchet to-“

“Do not worry you’ll be fixed up in no time.”

“Did I win?”

“You- participated.”

“Yaaaay.”

The two past the room with Orion and D. D looking very mad as Orion tries to think of what to say to kill the silence.

“So. How long do you think we'll be here?”

“I’m not talking to you………You know what, I can’t believe you made me do that! We are so screwed!”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me.”

“Hey! I know it’s all a big joke to you! But not me! I was paying my dues. I was going places and now they’re going to bust me down I-I don't even know how many tiers.”

“I’m sorry D. Come on, didn't you feel it? Even for just a second? Didn’t you feel liberated? Didn’t you feel like you were something else? Like you could be more than what they say you are?”

“Yeah I felt it. I did. But it doesn’t matter, we’re going to get punished and demoted. Ugh, Sentinel Prime saw everything! This is so embarrassing!”

From there this tall spider woman walks into the room using her eyes on the side of her to scan the two as they look at her confused and a bit scared.

“It’s clear.”

Sentinel would then walk in. Hands on hips as heeled down at the two.

“Orion Pax. D-16. What you two did today was one of the craziest things I have ever seen.”

“Sir, this is all my idea and we’re so sorry-“

”YOU TWO!!!” The three in the room besides Airachnid were startled by someone yelling as they then hear someone running towards them almost panting. Y/N then appears gong around Sentinel then standing in front of him not really processing he’s there as they look at the two angry and worried. Sentinel look down at them surprised, regonzing them from the crowd as he had his hand up to stop Airachnid from approaching. He then has an intrigued look on his face as he listens to them speak

“Orion what were you thinking putting yourself and D in that situation?! It was awesome but you could’ve died!!”

”Uh Y/N-“ Orion would say

”And D why didn’t you just stop him. What in the forever spark of Primus could have convinced you that-“

D would stops them grabbing their hand and pointed at Sentinel.

”Oh hey Sentine- Sentinel?! OH! Sir I am so sorry. Mostly for these two. I’m sure something like this will never hap-“

“I loved it!”

The three woukld look as him confused and shocked

“You did?”

“How can anyone not love it? You gave my best racers a real run for their money!”

Y/N would walk back a bit to stand next to D. Putting a hand on his shoulder as they listen to Sentinel

“So we’re not getting demoted?”

“Demoted?” They would start laughing. D and Orion laugh nerviously as Y/N only chuckled a bit

“The fact of the matter is. We are halfway into the first shift since the race ended. And that mining crew has already reached one hundred-fifty percent quota. You inspired them to work harder!”

“Sentinel Prime, Sir. We joined the race to show everyone our potential. That we bots can do more then just mine-“

“Outstanding. I love a bot that can think for himself! Perhaps you two could tour the mines. Speak to your brethren and help them see their potential.”

“Wow. Great. That- that sounds incredible! I-i would love to be-“

“Sir. It’s time.”

“Ba. Yes. I’m sorry friends. We’re preparing our next travel to the surface. But in the meantime, I got a treat for you. Hang tight. Airachnid have someone escort these heroes to my personal service facilities. Best care in Iacon. Ah, and Y/N I believe was it? Maybe you can join me up until my depart seeing you’re a good friend of these two and you can help me figure-out how we can make the city with the miners a better place with these two.”

“Oh sir that would be wonderful but I believe I should start heading to the mines before my superior gets mad at me for being late. I can always join later though as these two finish getting their special care.” D chuckled a bit and Orion hummed. Sentinel looked a bit disappointed his eye brows farrowed as he looks at Y/N then at the two. His smile retuning

“Well that’s just fine. I look forward to seeing you join us for a little meeting for the miners of Iacon. Until next time legends!”

He especially winked at Y/N who looked a bit confused as the other two didn’t notice

“Sentinel Prime. Ahh Thee Sentinel Prime!”

“You still mad at me?”

“I am less mad at you.”

“I’m telli-“ The two are then grabbed by the their shoulders. Orion on his right and D on has left as Y/N stood in front of them again and shook them a little

”You two ain’t off the hook yet! It is still stupid and you two were idiots!….But you’re alive and seems like you aren’t that harmed from racing luckily. So when we return from Sentinels quarters after you two better have a really. Really good apology! You got that?!”

The two nod saying yes to make them happy. They would turn to walk out but then look back at them and gives them a quick hug. Their arms around the both of them so their heads are close to theirs

”Just try to not scare me like that ok all right?” They would pull back their hands on their shoulders again then smiles with also worry in thier eyes. Then turns around and walks out. Right at the door then pointing at the two

”Good apologies.” Causing the two to chuckle watching as they left

“I’m telling you D I got a feeling that everything is going to change wer- we’re going to go-“

From there Darkwing walks in very upset

“Miners!”

“Ahh..Darkwing.”

*With Y/N-

They walk out of the medical bay and passes Ratchet. He waves at his patient saying he’ll only step out for a moment and walks to speak to Y/N outside the room and go for a little walk.

”Ah Y/N good to see you’re well and healthy. How’s the new team? Are they treating you well? Was there an injury that cause you the need to come here?”

”Yes Ratchet they’re a lot nicer then my last team. But I can’t really say the same with the surpiors. But I like it. Just came to check up on a couple friends. Going to the mines right now to see a friend at waste management.”

”That’s good to hear. At least it’s safer and I don’t have to see you in my hospital much anymore.”

Y/N only chuckles a bit embarrassed and almost looks sad. Once at the front Ratchet look turn to look at them

”You take care now and get plenty of rest”

”I will. Good seeing you Ratchet.”

*Orion and D during that time-

Darkwing then flies the two down the sub levels

“No! No! Wait wait! You don't understand we were suppose to Sentinel Primes service pods-“

“You two dots aren’t going to see anyone ever again! I’ll make sure of that!”

“You’re making a mistake! Ask Sentinel!”

“Hate that guy.”

They then see a yellow bot. Soon the bot is walking to them pointing at them.

“You! How did you get down here? There’s no access. There is no one else here but me! N one- You’re real?! You- you- you- you’re others! You’re not me! You’re here! And you’re not me!”

“Uh yeah?”

“Awesome! I am so sorry that must’ve been so weird for you. I-i just haven’t had a lot of company since they put me down here in sub level 50.”

“50? But there are only 40 sub levels.”

“That’s what I thought. Turns out there are 10 more. And they are not pleasant. Probably why no one ever really talks about them.”

“How long have you been down here?”

“How long have I been here? Ha! Lets see, uh. Somewhere between a long time and forever. I mean I had other jobs but I kept getting reassigned ‘cause I’m so good at what I do. Oh! I’m B-127 by the way. But you can call me B. I’m actually working on some nicknames the one I’m floating right now it’s badassatron which is actually pronounce. “Badassatron” But if you have any critiques.”

“Yeah uh. Great great. How- how do we get out of here?”

“Great question. You don’t.”

“We don’t?!”

“Nope. We have limited access to the waste management area but the new shift manager there does not like distractions. No, they prefer we stay here on the task at hand.”

“Which is?”

“Oh, The scrap comes in from the shoot there onto the coveyor velt our job is to look for anything that might be worth salvaging before it hits the furnace and gets smelted.”

“So you just watch garbage burn?”

“Yes! It is so great that you are here now! I can’t wait to learn everything about you, and then tell you everything about me! I have a lot of hopes and dreams that I am just dying to share with one or two new best friends!”

“Uh yeah we- we love to.”

“Where are my manners? Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the crew. Hey guys!! We got company! This is EP508. This is A-A-tron. And this fella here is Steve.”

“Steve?”

“Yeah. He’s foreign.”

“Question. Do they talk back to you?”

“Um. They’re not real. What- jeez. They think I’m that crazy?”

“No no. It’s just you been down here for-“

“I was talking to Steve.”

“Classic Steve!”

“What is that?”

“Look at this guy”

“Its coming from the side-“

“Steve! Noooooooo!”

“I am so sorry.”

“Steve! Nooooo! My Steve!”

“Uh we can fix it! Don't worry! We uhh-“

“Quintesson ambush! Calling the high guard for immediate support. Immediate support!!”

“That’s Alpha Trion.”

“One of the Primes?”

“Repeat. Zeta prime has fallen.”

“It’s an SOS message.”

“Protect the matrix! Sending location coordinates. Sending location coordinates.”

“Holy Primus.”

“Those are coordinates to a location on the surface. This could be where the primes died in the Quintessons war. Which means this is where we can find the matrix of leadership.”

“What are you talking about? It’s an old beacon inside a statue made of garbage.”

“Or it's a clue of how we can find matrix of leadership.”

“No. No way. Absolutely not.”

“Hey D. Come on. This could be our chance to show everyone that we’re not-“

“You already tried to show everyone in the race you tricked me into running which got us stuck down here in this waste hole with this- uhh really cool guy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“I’m just saying-“

“There’s a reason why no one goes to the surface; it's dangerous! I’m waiting right here until Sentinel Prime finds us.”

“Oh Okay. Yeah well we’ll just stay here forever. That's cool with you B?”

“Forever? This is great! New coworkers and roommates! There’s plenty of room now that Steve is dead. I usually sleep on the conveyor velt but you can totally have it. I’ll just sleep in the corner next to A-A-Tron. Plenty of room for you guys to stretch out too because you guys are taller and I am you know what I mean? You know what I mean?”

“Hey D what do you think Sentinels reaction will e if you personally handed him the Matrix of Leadership that You found-“

“Ok stop. I know what you’re trying to do. And it's definitely working. I’m in!”

“Haha! Yeah buddy!”

“How do we get to the surface?”

“You're kidding me. The surface? Easy. I know a way. But it won't be easy.”

The three will then proceed to climb the trash shoot.

“Why is there so much trash?”

“Warning next time please. My mouth was open.”

“Only 49 sub levels to go.”

“Waste disposal trains are the only vehicles that go all the way to the surface.”

“Yeah but they don’t allow passengers ‘cause the trains are autonomous.”

“Yeah that’s the “won’t be easy part.”

“That’s perfect. We’ll be safe inside the train.”

*Meanwhile with Y/N-

Y/N continues to head to waste management. Where Elita was still working at. They would pass by the surpiors as they are their way over tho Elita. They see Elita picking up a box and making her way to the train. They would follow her. After she put the box down she would go to a bigger box and look to see who’s closer. That’s when Y/N waved and stood on the other side of the box.

”Hey Elita, how you holding up?”

”Only the best I can Y/N. Though I can be of more use else where.”

”Hey at least you have a pretty good job and you know Orion didn’t mean to do what he did. He really is sorry.” Y/N says as Elita looked at them then down a upset

”It’s whatever. At least I wont have to see that scrapping face again. Mind helping”

”Not at all”

The two pick up the box together and start to carry it into the train. The two walk out as another two bots with a big box go in then put theirs down in the middle of the room

“That's the last one. Start her up.”

The three would land on the train sneakily and get through one of the small doors on top of the train. Getting in quietly after seeing two other bots leave. Y/N old walk to the other miners until she notices there’s one more box. She’ll pick it up and walk back into the train. Y/N would wait staying close by thre trai while the other miners just talked.

“Hold up. One more. I’ll lock it down.”

She would then see the open door on the ceiling. Scoffing and even chuckling as she walked back in.

“Heh thanks for being an idiot whoever you are.Turning you in will definitely get me promoted back a rank or two.” Y/N would notice her still in the train. They then walk standing a little pass the doors inside the train about to speak until they witnessed what happens next

“Got her!”

“Wait wait wait.”

“Elita stop!”

“Orion??” Y/N and Elita say at the same time

“Hold on let me-“

“Security! Sound the alar-“

The doors would close and the train would start moving forward to its destination. Elita will grow annoyed and start running towards the front of the train.

“Elita wait- Orion. D-16 what in primus is going on?!”

“I’ll tell you later but right now I need to stop her!”

”What?!”

“She’s headed towards the entry.”

The three start chasing Elita and Y/N just groans then starts chasing them. Staying behind D

“Don’t worry I got this! Hold on, let me explain we’re on a mission!”

“So am I! To ruin your life!”

The train would then go up. Elita getting on a box as the others would fall back because of the gravity. Y/N was able to hold on to a box where they watch the others fall back

“Elita, wait we found a message. We know-“

Elita would then kick the box down and keep climbing up the train as the box would almost land on Orion until B pushed Orion before getting hit

“This bot is crazy! Who is she??”

“Deadend Elita! There’s no way uhh..Well she’s gone.”

Elita was able to make it out of the train. climbing you as the others follow behind. Orion soon on her tail as B comes out next and then D.

“Why! Why am I doing this? Why am I doing this?”

“Climb Faster!”

Y/N continues to follow behind going up the train ladder after D as they climbed up. As the four continue to follow her the train soon goes in a straight line once more and then down before going forward once more again causing the four to hit the train after holding on. Orion then sees his opportunity and grabs her leg.

“Gotcha!

Elita would then turn to punch him but seeing the surface for the first time soon stops her. The five stand up as they look ath the same direction. Y/N would step a bit closer to D. Being both fasciated but scared of they are currently witnessing. D noticed this and sets his hand on their left shoulder to bring them a sort of comfort

“The surface.”

“It’s beautiful..” Orion would look at her

“It’s incredible…”

“I am…speechless.”

“Elita, listen to me, we know where the Matrix of Leadership is.”

“Oh sure, and I’m really a prime. I just prefer loading crates in toxic waste- woah where I’d you get this?”

“From my friend Steve. Orion killed him.”

“I did not kill Steve.”

“He was never alive.”

“What?” Elita and Y/N both say. As Orion and Elita spoke D puts his hand back on their shoulder

”It’s a long story. Also this is B.”

”Hi!”

“Oh uh hello B.”

“Sentinel told us he was going to the surface and then we found this message. We figured that we can hand deliver it to him or scout the location ourselves. Whichever comes first.”

Elita would stare at the map for a good second before looking at Orion

“This was too important to wait. It will change all of our lives.”

“No no no no. I’m not going to get demoted again because of you. I’m turning this rig around and I’m notifying the o-“

Elita starts walking to the head of the train once more Orion watching her along with B and Y/N but D would speak.

“Hey hey guys? What is that? Is it getting bigger?”

“Or closer?”

As the five watched, B would start running. The others soon joining him running back the open door.

“No no no no no no no-“

“Don't close. Stop closing. Don't close! It’s closed!”

The five will start trying to open the door. But the giant transformation is soon closer and the five turn their head and look at the now mountain. Fear on their faces they all grab the railes and hang on tightly

“Come on!”

“Oh now I know why no one comes to the surface!”

Soon the transformation causes the train to shake and at times loses its gravity. This causes the five to let go without meaning to. Causing them to fly and soon hit the ground. Elita would then open her optics

“Elita…..Elita….You ok?”

Elita would punch him on reflex and trys to stand up while Orion was still on the floor as he touched his jaw. B in the back upside down as his legs stay outside moving. D then comes up grabbing Bs leg and starts pulling to help. Y/N was on the floor between the four mostly their head and upper back on the floor as their legs are over their head and seems to not be moving. But can be heard groaning a bit

“Please stop punching me in the face!”

“Iacon. The trai- Where’s the train?!”

“Relax! Ok here it comes. Aaaaand there it goes. Ok I was wrong about that it was going the other way-“

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH”

Oh yeah Chapter 2! Next chapter will be released on Tuesday so in 4 days

[malarign]

riki as your boyfriend!

(soft moments with him)

contains: bf!Riki x gn!reader | genre: fluff | tw! kissing (lmk if i forgot about something!) | wc: 1,4k

reblogs, likes and comments are highly appreaciated!!!

author’s note: idrk that he said he would confess in a cool way, here he is a soft and shy baby </3

other members’ versions: LHS - PJS - SJY - PSH - KSW - YJW

➶ watching horrors together only to have you in his arms *ೃ༄

As much as Riki didn’t want to admit it was one of his favorite feelings in the whole world. Especially if you were scared and wanted to be as close to him as it’s physically possible. That’s why he enjoyed watching horror movies with you. He exactly knew what reaction he could expect from you, so it was your go-to movie genre whenever you had a movie night together. The way you buried your face in his chest or neck made his heart flutter and cheeks flush with a bright blush which he tried to cover up by laughing and teasing you.

“Do we really have to watch that?” you asked tucking on his sleeve.

“It’s a really good movie, Y/nah, you’re going to like it,” he reassured you, knowing damn well what your reactions are gonna be.

You silently read the description. Of course, a horror movie. What else could Riki pick? You bit your lips, mentally preparing for all the jumpscares and awful characters that await you.

None of you were wrong. For the first 30 minutes of the movie when nothing really happened you thought it was not going to be as bad as you thought, only for the worst to show up on the screen. You flinched at the loud sound and sudden jumpscare and tugged at his arm this time, earning a laugh from him. Your reactions were in his eyes none but endearing, they also made him want to protect you at all costs.

Without saying a word you cuddled to him, seeking comfort in his arms and calming scent. Riki just wrapped his arms around you, occasionally rubbing your back when other scary scenes showed up.

“You’re such a baby,” he spoke and added quickly seeing your fake mad expression. “My baby.”

➶ wearing your hair tie on his wrist *ೃ༄

Being the forgetful person you are you often kept on either losing small stuff like hair ties, which to be honest wasn’t very comfortable, especially on windy days. You would curse yourself for not taking anything to tie or pin your locks with. That’s when Riki comes to the rescue. Knowing your habit he kept on one hair tie on his wrist just in case you forgot one. Sometimes he would even offer to tie them for you, gently brushing through them with his fingers or a comb.

Looking down at you struggling with your hair Riki couldn’t contain his smile. The wind had no mercy on you today, making your locks go in all the different directions possible. When you were on the verge of fuming he silently walked behind you taking all your hair in his hands. He gently brushed through them, careful not to hurt you. He tied them with a hair tie he kept on his wrist into a comfortable low ponytail that you were so used to.

“Thank you,” you spoke sweetly and looked up at him.

“No problem,” he said, returning your baby tone to you.

You climbed on your toes to plant a quick kiss on his lips leaving him blushing at unexpected affection. You took his hand firmly

➶ face lighting up when he sees you *ೃ༄

This is something Riki just can’t help with. Whenever he is waiting for you at home, or you just ran at each other, he can’t contain his big and bright smile. Watching as his eyes slowly disappear and his face lifts at your sight make your heart feel warm and skip a beat or two. In the beginning, he tried to contain himself but with time it began to be even more difficult, so he just gave up, showing how much he was whipped for you.

Riki waited for you a little bit longer than usual and started to get pretty impatient and mad. He took his phone out of his pocket to call you when he noticed you waving at him from the distance and shouting his name.

“Riki!”

He didn’t even notice when a smile crept on his face. Was it your excited expression? Was it the way his name sounded in your lips? Or was it just because you were his favorite person? He didn’t know, but what he did know was how your body hit his when you ran excitedly to him. He wrapped his arms around you, all the thoughts about you being late disappearing immediately.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you said breathlessly.

“It’s okay,” he responded quietly, tucking a lone strand of your hair behind your ear. Dreamy gaze and a loving smile never leaving his lit-up face.

➶ doodling on your palm *ೃ༄

Having a soft spot for you and drawing seemed like a perfect match since you never had any objections against him doodling on your skin. The feeling of a pen dancing on your skin and Riki’s focused facial expression made you smile every time he did that. Without noticing your hand would be covered with cute drawings, either portraying small symbols or his favorite characters from animations.

If one thing could tell you Riki was getting bored of a movie or TV series you’ve been watching it was definitely him grabbing a pen and drawing small patterns on your palm.

“Do you want to watch something else?” you asked pausing the movie you were dying for months to watch.

“No, no, it’s okay, I know how much you wanted to watch it,” he responded nonchalantly.

“You sure? We can watch something else,” you suggested but he shook his head in disapproval.

“I’m sure, are you okay with me drawing on your hand though?”

“Was I ever not okay with it?” you asked and raised your eyebrow with a smile.

He just smiled to himself and continued drawing on your arm stunning small symbols and characters, soon covering it all, not leaving any spot.

➶ tying your shoelaces *ೃ༄

If he could erase any of your traits it would definitely be your forgetfulness which unfortunately didn’t limit to only forgetting things. Living in a hurry often made you forget the most trivial things like eating your meals or tying your shoelaces. By now Riki developed a habit of always checking the state of your shoes before heading to your destination. He could count how many times you almost tripped really badly because of them. At first, he found it cute and quite funny but now whenever he sees them undone he just shakes his head and kneels to tie them for you.

„Your shoelaces are undone,” Riki remarked as he pointed to your feet.

You followed his gaze and just shrugged.

“It’s okay,” you said and squeezed his hand slightly.

Soon you were stopped by his firm posture. He looked at you with an expression that talked for itself. He shook his head and sighed kneeling in front of you. The sight of it took you aback wondering what he was up to, only to find out he wanted to tie your shoes for you.

“You keep on tripping over because of them and still manage to say it’s okay?” he asked rhetorically fingers still busy with your shoelaces.

“Thank you,” you simply said, flustered by his gesture and care.

Soon he stood up, now again towering above you. He took your hand gently in his with a smile and guided you to your destination.

➶ having pillow fights *ೃ༄

You could think he would give you some head start but nothing could be further from the truth. He would put the use of his long hours at the gym and have no mercy in beating your ass in pillow fights. Of course, it didn’t mean he would put too much force into them but just enough to leave both of you hysterically laughing at the way you lose miserably. He would always top them out with a sweet kiss either on your forehead or lips.

When you agreed on another sleepover with Riki you knew what you signed up to. He could greet to with the sweetest smile and gentle kiss but that wouldn’t stop him from tackling you down in a fierce feathery battle. And today was no different from other times. You were currently losing against your boyfriend, while both of you laughed loudly.

“I can’t breathe, please stop Riki!” you begged for him to stop. Riki always seemed to know when you were serious and when it was playful. Sensing you needed a break he threw his weapon to the other side of the bed. He cupped your cheeks and left tickling kisses on your eyelids, forehead, and finally lips.

“Rest for a bit. I’m not done beating your weak ass.”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

permanent taglist: (send an ask to be added) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @kpopstanmeg, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @edensgardenn (in bold can’t be tagged)

[altsvu]

Congrats on 200 bunny!!!! You deserve it 🌸

Can I ask for a Hotch request pls? You can literally write anything you want, any prompt, but pls do the classic ‘we’re barely friends and oops there’s only one bed in this hotel room’ bc it’s my fave trope ever!!

“there’s a first for everything”, they say

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!black!fem!reader

prompts used: 40) “I love the way you look with my fingers inside you.” 58) “Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.” 93) “It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” from the 100 smut prompts!

summary: hotch invites you and the rest of the BAU on a vacation to the Bahamas, but his demeanor changes when he sees you and interacts with you outside of the professional setting for the first time.

wc: 1855

tw: pining (mentions of it), teasing, dirty talk, oral sex, p in v sex, mentions of sex, smut in general

a/n: i literally could not find a good gif for this so this will do! also this is a combination of another fic idea that i had so i kinda put a bit of a twist on this, i still hope you enjoy marley!! ❤️ @angelhotchner

criminal minds masterlist! ✯ taglist!

✯✯✯✯

The BAU had finally gotten vacation time, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep for 24 hours. But when Hotch invited you and the rest of the BAU to the Bahamas, it was hard for you to say no.

You wondered how it would go since you never really interacted with Hotch outside of cases, but maybe he might actually talk to you on a different level.

Then again, you were barely friends with him, acquaintance at most.

When the time finally came to pack for the trip, it was much harder than expected. After about 3 hours, you finally had your suitcases and your carry-on packed and ready to go.

Finally, you and the rest of the team were on the plane. To your luck, you and Hotch were sitting next to each other, with you at the window seat.

“Hey.” he smiled after settling down. You turned and smiled back at him and said hey back.

You couldn’t help but notice how good he looked. Like really good. His polo was doing him justice showing off his buff arms and chest, and his hair was fluffed to perfection. God, even his hands caught your eyes. His hands were big and veiny and you had recurring thoughts of him putting those hands to work.

On you.

Stop it, you told yourself.

You and Hotch were quiet the beginning of the flight, but you soon engaged in intriguing conversation with him. From expressing feelings about taking a break from all the gore that was part of working at the BAU, to sharing favorite scenes of movies that the both of you watched, that was the first non-work related conversation you’ve had with him.

And it felt amazingly natural, despite the bits of awkwardness in between.

The flight had a 55 minute layover in Miami, which you didn’t know about until you heard on the intercom, which woke you up from your rather comfortable nap.

That was when you noticed you had been napping with your head resting against Hotch’s arm. You quickly sat up and made sure he didn’t notice.

So much for barely friends.

During the layover, you curled up in a chair doing some digital art pieces on your iPad while eating lunch. You made it clear that you didn’t want to be bothered by anyone by putting in your headphones.

Hotch included.

You felt too embarrassed to talk to him after finding out you slept on him.

And didn’t even do anything about it.

He probably felt some type of way.

Or not.

You didn’t even bother figuring out his feelings, instead you spent the rest of the flight making mental notes of what you would do when you finally arrived.

✯✯✯✯

Bikinis were Hotch’s weakness. Well bikinis on you.

How did you know that?

You noticed that he couldn’t help but stare at you from the moment you took off your coverup, and when you walked past him at the beach, when you were resting on your beach chair talking with Penelope and Spencer, or alone reading a book, when you were playing beach volleyball with him, Morgan and JJ, and even when you were sipping on martinis with Rossi and Emily. Other people were checking you out too, but it seemed like Hotch was checking you out the most, admiring how beautiful the baby pink bikini looked against your golden chocolate skin.

So much for barely friends right?

The beach outing with the whole team was fun and you enjoyed your time there but you left the beach earlier than expected, spending some time alone shopping in nearby areas around the hotel. There was no reason in particular, you just liked spending time with yourself any chance you could.

You got back to the hotel room you were sharing with Hotch due to availability reasons, and quickly rid yourself of your clothes besides your bra and underwear and prepared to shower.

Until you realized that you forgot to bring your robe. bonnet and shower cap with you in the bathroom.

Hotch just so happened to walk in just as you were looking for it.

“Y/N, are you sleeping in that?”

“Oh shit!” you yelped, scrambling to cover your body. He came over to you after dropping his stuff on the ground. “Sorry,” you said sheepishly.

“Hey.” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You felt yourself calm down instantly, but it just increased the level of awkwardness between you and him. After your shower, you got dressed for the night, which consisted of an oversized shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and relaxed in bed reading a book.

Hotch laid down next to you about 30 minutes later and you fell asleep moments after.

✯✯✯✯

Waking up in the middle of the night, you felt a warm body lean against you. You turned and gasped in fear until you realized it was Hotch.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Hotch asked, turning around and placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah sorry, I forgot I was sharing a bed with you for a moment." you breathed.

"I'm sorry I scared you out of your sleep."

You shook your head and turned back around. "It's not your fault."

It was silent between the two of you for a bit, and then Hotch reached over to massage your shoulders. It felt nice, you haven't had a massage in a while, if not ever. It was as if Hotch knew what you needed, what you were thinking about. A slight moan escaped your lips from how good it felt.

"Is that turning you on Y/N?" Hotch chuckled.

"No, it just feels really good."

Liar. It’s turning you on.

"I can make you feel good in other places, if you want."

“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing now?” you said, turning to face him with a smile on your face.

Hotch didn’t reply, instead he pulled you a bit closer to him and caressed your cheek.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

“I do, but please remind me.”

He went into specifics about how he’d been admiring you from a distance and how he was scared to become close friends with you and screw it up.

“Y/N, you truly faze me.” he said at the end.

You felt your cheeks burning up at Hotch practically confessing his love to you. Without notice, he pressed a kiss on your lips. You went back in for more, and next thing you knew, you were on your back with Hotch’s hand lifting up your shirt. You helped him take it off, and there you were, almost naked again in front of him.

“Suddenly you don’t seem so shy to be naked in front of me.” he smiled.

“That’s because before, I was pretending that I didn’t like you.”

“Oh, so you like me.” Hotch murmured in between kisses to your clavicle.

You wanted to respond, but Hotch’s fingers were inching to your boy shorts and you felt yourself clenching up by his touch, so a smile was the best you could have done in the moment.

And next thing you know, they’re off.

You helped Hotch out of his clothes and the two of you were both naked.

In a hotel bedroom.

In the middle of the night.

You never thought you’d ended up this far with Hotch, let alone just being friends, or almost friends, with him. This was going through your mind as he was on top of you, kissing all over your body.

His hand was slowly trailing up your leg, then to your folds. He reached your clit and rubbed soft circles on it, all while pushing his pointer and middle fingers inside you.

With your past experience being intimate with other men, none of them ever made you feel this good with just their fingers. In fact, it was much different than you’ve ever experienced before.

“I love the way you look with my fingers inside you,” Hotch whispered, looking up at you.

You shuddered in pleasure when he said that, it felt reassuring.

He continued doing this through your first three orgasms. It got even more intense when he pulled his fingers out, devoured your juices and smashed his tongue on your opening. At this point you wanted to just grab fistfuls of his hair and moan at the top of your lungs.

Hotch being the profiler he is, knew exactly what you were yearning for.

“It’s okay, honey, you can pull my hair as hard as you want while I’m between your legs.” he said, looking up at you again with a quirky grin on his face.

Your hands were now full of his soft black hair, reaching the climax of your fourth orgasm.

Before you could reach another one, Hotch stopped what he was doing, laid down on the bed and pulled you onto his lap. You shuddered at the feeling of his hands on your waist.

“I want to feel you,” he whispered. “Can I do that?”

“Yes, please.” you pleaded.

He adjusted himself to your opening, and to say you were in shock would be an understatement. The initial thrust almost had you crying out for mercy the way it felt so good. A throaty groan escaped Hotch’s lips.

“You must be enjoying this,” you said.

“I am. You’re so good to me.”

That made you blush as you loved words of affirmation.

It was like Hotch knew everything about you. He knew all the right things to say, and all the right places to touch you. In a way, his job as a profiler never ended.

He switched positions so that he was on top of you, passionately looking into your eyes while doing so. He was the one with the mastery in eye contact.

At this point, you already knew the bonnet was off and the knotless braids you had in would get a bit frizzy at the top. But you didn’t care. Hotch was making you feel better than ever, filling that certain void in your life.

He had your legs up and thrusted into you with everything in him, and it made you moan in a way you never imagined you could do.

Another climax was approaching and you could feel it. You came faster than expected with Hotch in your ear whispering for you to do it for him. Short moments later, he was right there with you with his high.

“So much for not even being friends.” You laughed softly.

Hotch pulled you into his arms and kissed you. “So much, huh?”

“What do you think the others are gonna say when they find out? I know one of them heard us.”

“I’m glad they heard. Maybe they’ll talk about how loud you got for me.”

That made you giggle.

“Anyways, my special agent, we have to sleep soon. Or there might be more rounds.”

And surely enough, the two of you slept in each other’s arms after cleaning up, and you slept way better than you did before being woken up.

✯✯✯✯

taglist: @averyhotchner @storiesofsvu @ssaic-jareau @blackbeautifulqueen @mstrinnyb @will-on-the-internet @mrshadeelharingtonmadden

[ven0moir]

tw; rant. Once again here to remind everyone that byler not being endgame is, at best, negligent queerbaiting

this is the show where one of the producers said "the UD mythos is important but the heart of the show are its characters and their interconnectedness/family dynamics" or something along those lines AND also said that "very few things are coincidences in this show."

i'd have been ( and i bet a lot of other bylers too ) COMPLETELY FINE without byler even being a possible card on the table. i'd HAVE STILL BEEN A FAN OF THE SHOW without byler! in fact, i WAS--i cared more about el and hopper's rs than i did mike and will's. it wasn't until S4 that i REALLY got invested in the show bc of the promise of will's arc, WHICH INCLUDES MIKE. the way they handled the painting arc, if byler isn't endgame, is literally the most underwhelming thing i've seen.

the only difference that byler makes in my case is that if it hadn't come across as a real possibility, then i would've remained a casual viewer and not think about the show again until it came out, like yknow, most people. so this whole "will they won't they" thing going on makes it feel like a marketing technique to keep people who enjoy byler hooked at the promise of something significant developing there.

this isn't about "oh your ship didn't become canon? tough luck" it's legit that they would ruin their show for me FOR. NO. REASONNNNNN. I WAS ALREADY A FAN!!! I HAD NO BYLER EXPECTATIONS!!! not to mention how shitty it is on the lgbt community. and also, the mass hate bylers would get.

and before you say "its ur own fault for being delusional, they didn't queerbait--" I'm sorry but what Noah is doing IS QUEERBAIT even if he doesn't mean to and the duffers should tell him to stop hinting at byler until post s5 or whatever

im not even going to talk about the show IMPLYING BYLER for ages. for example; dustin telling lucas that he saw him and max holding hands and that meant there were feelings between them even if lucas denied it/said she was just scared vs mike holding will's hand AN EPISODE PRIOR

or the song "on the bus" playing during a lumax scene where they connected vs it playing on a byler scene in s4 using very similar phrasing it's like they're subtly winking at the audience.

the shitty way that mileven finally got their 'i love you' like im sorry it feels so rushed and awkward if this was supposed to be the culmination of mike's arc

i could literally go on and on and on and other bylers could as well so yeah. ugh im sorry for the negativity in the tag but i just REALLY need that to be very clear that byler vs mileven isn't an argument that is ocurring on equal ground and that byler isn't 'just a ship that people analyze too much'

if it was never going to be canon, THERE WAS NO NEED TO HINT AT IT **AT ALL** and THAT is what really grinds my gears. most bylers would still love ST bc our favorite character is WILL. we would've been fine if will's whole thing was telling his best friend he was gay and that's it. like, the bar is on the FLOOR ... me personally? i'll be satisfied with will getting a completed arc in the supernatural and having his moment to shine and bringing the story full circle like WE WERE PROMISED ( unless yknow, people want to call us stupid and delusional for expecting will to be important at all )

what i will NOT tolerate is people being mean to bylers for being upset about byler not being endgame in the end bc WE HAVE A RIGHT TO BE. and if you're one of those people sincerely: FUCK YOU. i wish you get exactly what you deserve. thank you for reading and that's it from me

[communicationthroughlyrics]

Between the Pain and the Way You Look

You have a less-than-admirable day. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. So how does Emily make it all better? Sex, of course.

TW: Smut, Strap On sex, allusions to somnophilia. 18+ Men DNI

Word Count: 3.5K

You had just about had it with the day. After waking up to a cold bed, your shower running cold, spilling your coffee on your favorite work shirt, and hitting all of the traffic that was never a problem before, you made it to work. Your day wasn't any better there. You had hoped to catch your girlfriend, Emily before you all were called in for a briefing.

But that wasn't meant to be. Hotch droned on about why filing case files was important to handle promptly, and how the escalation process was only for severe cases. You had to bite your tongue to keep from pointing out that the case you had been working on was severe. It was the kind that kept you up at night, the kind that you saw in your dreams, the kind that made you question humanity. But no, you couldn't say any of that.

The day progressed as you all caught up with your paperwork and case files, the sounds of scribbling pens and clicking keyboards filling the bullpen in the lower level of the BAU. Your eyes kept drifting up to Emily, watching as she chewed on her pen, glancing over various sheets of printed evidence that a local police department hoped would aid in the capture of a suspect. Suddenly, while you were not staring at your girlfriend, an intern made thier way through the center aisle of the bullpen, tripping and sending her coffee and case files all over your desk and into your lap. Paperwork was now saturated and shuffled, as you grumbled and wiped off the paperwork you could.

"Sorry, Agent Y/L/N," she stuttered, her face flushing as red as the crimson stain spreading over your crotch.

You took a deep breath, "It's fine," you said with a forced smile, trying not to let the frustration overtake you. You stood up, grabbed the files, and walked over to the photocopier. You could feel the dampness of your pants sticking to your skin, making you more uncomfortable with each step.

Emily looked up from her work, noticing the mess on your desk and the look on your face. She immediately stood up and followed you, "Y/N, are you okay?"

You nodded, "Yeah, just a little spilled coffee. Kinda just how my day has been, to be honest."

Emily's eyes softened, "I'm sorry," she said, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Do you need help with those files?"

The warmth of her hand sent a comforting sensation through you, and for a moment, you felt like maybe the day could turn around. "No, I got it. Thanks, Em."

As you approached the photocopier, you noticed the intern, whose name you hadn't caught, was already there, trying to clean up the mess she had made. She looked up at you with wide eyes, "I'm so sorry," she repeated, "I didn't mean to ruin your papers."

You sighed and handed her the wet files, "Don't worry about it. Just get me some fresh copies, please."

The intern nodded vigorously, "Yes, of course," she said, taking the files and beginning to sort them out. You watched for a moment, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly. Emily hovered beside you, her hand still on your shoulder, and you couldn't help but appreciate the way she was trying to help, even in this small way.

As you waited, you couldn't help but think about the case you had been working on. The images of the crime scenes flashed through your mind, each one more disturbing than the last. You had been with the BAU for years, but this one was different. It was personal somehow. You felt a deep-seated rage at the thought of the monster out there, getting away with it all.

The photocopier hummed to life, and the intern handed you the fresh copies, "Here you go, Agent," she said meekly.

You took the papers with a nod of thanks, "It's fine," you assured her, "These things happen."

Emily looked at you with concern, "You should sit down, and let it dry a bit," she suggested, pointing to your soaked crotch.

You chuckled humorlessly, "Yeah, I probably should."

You walked back to your desk, Emily in tow, and sat down heavily in your chair. She leaned against the desk, her hand sliding down to rest on your forearm, "Want to grab lunch together? Maybe get out of here for a bit?"

The offer was tempting, but you knew you couldn't let the case wait. "Can't," you said, shaking your head, "Got too much to do."

Emily's expression fell, but she nodded in understanding, "Do you want me to get you something?" she asked, and again you shook your head. "Okay, but promise me you won't push yourself too hard." Her dark eyes lingered on you as she walked away, JJ waiting patiently by the door as they headed out for food.

You regretted not going with Emily, just getting out of here for a little bit. You could have stepped out and grabbed some fresh clothes. You didn't live far away. But now that all your thoughts had been caffeinated and smeared, you had twice as much work to do.

Your frustrations mounted all day long, stupid mistakes and accidents hindering your productivity all day long. You grabbed a ginger ale from the vending machine in the break room, and it exploded on you, covering you in a sticky mess. The lunch that Emily brought back for you, despite your refusal, knocked off your desk and spilled all over the floor. All just minor inconveniences that were leading up to you exploding.

Emily, JJ, and Morgan all finished thier case files early, and despite thier offers to help you, you told them to go ahead and enjoy thier nights. Hotch finally kicked you out, telling you that trying to catch up when you're frustrated is a help to no one, including yourself. You made your way to your car, getting ready to toss your bag into the back seat when the strap snapped and slapped you in the face, cutting your eyebrow. You kick your bag into the backseat, cussing at whatever god may be listening before slamming your door and starting your car.

Well, you tried. The oh-so-familiar sound of your car trying to start, but indicating a dead battery caused you to slam your hands on the wheel, before slamming your head into the headrest. You needed to blow off steam. Popping the trunk, you dug out your handy little jump box, popped the hood connecting the cables to the terminals, and jumped the car. You groaned as you noticed your cab light on, the likely cause of your dead battery.

After the car sputtered to life, you drove home, feeling like the universe had it out for you today. You pulled into the garage and slammed the door shut behind you, the echo bouncing off the concrete walls. Entering the house, you kicked off your shoes and tossed your broken bag on the ground as you turned around to see Emily, she was smirking at you in the kitchen.

"Long night, baby?" She called out, her voice taunting and teasing, as she leaned against the kitchen counter with a beer in hand. Her smile was infectious, and you couldn't help but feel a little bit of the tension slip away at the sight of her.

You took a deep breath and let out a sigh, "You could say that." You walked over to her, took the beer from her hand, and took a long pull. The cold liquid slid down your throat, offering a brief respite from the day's frustrations.

"I'm making you dinner, Y/N," she rasped, leaning to your ear before peppering your jawline with kisses. You groaned at her affection, the warmth of her breath on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. "You need to relax. The day is almost over."

You groaned, the feeling of her hands roaming your body causing you to relax further. "Go rinse off the day, babe. Dinner is almost done."

You pouted, turning to face her before pulling her into you. "You don't want to join me?"

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "Oh, I want to," she murmured, her voice low and seductive, "But dinner's almost ready, and you know how grumpy you get when you're hangry. Especially since you spilled your lunch and then ate a stale bag of chips from your desk."

You couldn't argue with that. With a sigh, you leaned in for a quick kiss before heading to the bathroom. You peeled off your sticky, coffee-soaked clothes, the fabric reluctantly letting go of your skin. The hot water from the shower was like a balm to your soul, washing away the grime of the day. You took your time, letting the steam build up around you and the water pummel your tense muscles. The shampoo and soap smelled faintly of mint and citrus, a scent that always seemed to calm you down.

By the time you emerged from the bathroom, the smell of something heavenly filled the air. Emily was a fantastic cook, and your stomach growled in appreciation. You padded into the kitchen, wrapping a towel around your waist, and found her at the stove, stirring a pot of something that bubbled and sizzled. She looked over her shoulder, catching your eye, and grinned. "Feeling better?"

You nodded, feeling the knots in your neck and back loosen slightly. "Much." You took a step closer to her, inhaling the mouthwatering scent. "What's on the menu?"

"Spaghetti and meatballs," she said, pointing to a plate of perfectly formed meatballs resting on the counter. "With a side of garlic bread." She winked at you, and you couldn't help but smile. It was your favorite, and she had gone to the effort of making it from scratch. You leaned in to kiss her cheek, and she playfully swiped at you with a spoonful of sauce. You dodged and grabbed a meatball, popping it into your mouth. The flavors exploded, the warmth and spice hitting the spot.

Dinner was a welcome distraction from the chaos of the day. You sat at the table, the candles flickering and casting a warm glow across the room. The wine she had poured was a deep, velvety red, and it complemented the meal perfectly. You talked about the case, but she knew when to listen and when to change the subject. Her laughter was like a salve to your weary soul, and you found yourself smiling genuinely for the first time in hours.

After dinner, she began her clean up of the kitchen, telling you to relax, as she so lovingly put it, "With the day you've had, you'll break all the dishes." You began to watch her as she moved effortlessly around your kitchen, oblivious to your gaze. Your thoughts became louder and harder to ignore as you watched the woman, your desire to bend her over the counter and take her where she stood, especially after the day you had, was strong.

You stood and walked up behind her, wrapping your arms around her waist and whispering in her ear, "Thanks for dinner," before nibbling at the lobe. She giggled, turning around in your embrace, her hands coming up to cup your face. "You're welcome," she replied, her voice dropping an octave, "but I think I might have had an ulterior motive."

You raised an eyebrow in question, "Oh?"

"Mmhmm," she said, her eyes darkening, "I figured if I fed you, you'd be less grumpy, and I could have my way with you. Help you...blow off some steam."

You smirked, "Is that so?" You leaned in, your breath hot against her skin, "What makes you think that I would let you have your way with me?"

Her grin widened, "Maybe, I want you to ravage me. Use me. I can tell you want to." she growls in your ear, before nibbling on your earlobe in return.

"What makes you say that, babe?" you groan, before tilting her head to the side and kissing up and down her neck.

"Maybe it's the way you're holding me," she replied, her breath hitching as your hands trailed down her body, "Or the look in your eyes," she leaned back, giving you more access to her neck. "Or maybe the fact that you have had your strap-on on all day, even now."

You looked down to see that she had noticed the bulge in your pants and the harness peeking out from under your shirt. You had worn it today in the hope that there would be a moment you could have bent her over and fucked her so she couldn't walk at work. Or if she would have stayed in this morning, you could have fucked her before you both went into the office.

Emily's words sent a jolt of desire through you. You hadn't realized how badly you needed this release until she put it into words. You tightened your grip on her hips, pulling her closer until she was pressed against you, the heat between your bodies palpable. "Is that right?" You murmured, your voice thick with want.

"Mmhmm," she responded, her hands reaching behind her to tug at the strings of your harness. "Let's get rid of these clothes, and I'll show you just how much I want it."

You didn't need any further invitations. In a flash, the kitchen was a blur of fabric and heat as you both stripped off your clothes, leaving them scattered across the floor like breadcrumbs. The tension of the day melted away with every touch, every kiss, every whispered word of desire.

You led her to the couch, the cushions plush and inviting. She sat down, spreading her legs wide for you, and you knelt before her, taking in the sight of her glistening pussy. You kissed along her inner thighs, savoring the sweetness of her skin and the way she squirmed under your touch. "Fuck, Emily..." You murmured, your voice gruff with need.

Emily leaned back, her hands tangling in your hair as she guided you closer to where she needed you most. You kissed her softly, her taste a mix of desire and the hint of the wine she had been sipping. Then you kissed her deeper, your tongue exploring her mouth as your hands roamed over her body. You felt her tremble as you teased her clit with one hand, your other hand squeezing her breast.

You kissed up and down her taught body, making your way across her chest, and down her stomach, your eyes never leaving hers. The way she watched you was like a hunger that could never be sated. When you reached her center, her legs parted even more for you, inviting you in. You took her clit into your mouth, flicking your tongue against it, and she gasped her back arching. You could feel her muscles tighten around your fingers as you pushed into her wetness, exploring her depths. You kept lapping at her clit, your other hand massaging her chest as she writhed and mewled beneath you.

Her nails dug into your scalp, urging you on as she got closer to the edge. You felt a smug satisfaction knowing you could make her feel this way, that you could give her the relief she craved. Her breath hitched and her body tensed, and you knew she was almost there. You increased your pace, your tongue swirling and sucking until she was bucking her hips against your face, her orgasm crashing through her in waves. She let out a guttural moan, and you felt her body relax, the tremors subsiding as she leaned back against the couch, panting heavily.

You weren't going to let her relax long, kissing your way up to meet her lips in a steamy, passionate embrace. She could taste her on your tongue, a sweet and salty mix that made you crave more. She returned the kiss eagerly, her tongue dancing with yours as she pulled you closer, her legs wrapping around your waist. You could feel her heat, her desire pressing against you, and you knew she was ready for more.

You stood, breaking the kiss and smiling down at her. "Bedroom," you rasped, and she nodded, her cheeks flushed with arousal. You picked her up effortlessly, carrying her to the bedroom like a prize you had won. You laid her down on the bed, her legs still wrapped around you as you settled between them. You kissed her neck, feeling her pulse quicken as you reached for the strap-on you had yet to use. You began to stroke it, coating it in a mixture of her arousal and your saliva.

Emily watched you with hungry eyes, her hand slipping down to her clit, keeping the heat simmering. "I've been waiting for this all day," she murmured her voice a seductive whisper that had you hardening even more. You lined the tip of the strap-on up with her entrance, feeling her shiver with anticipation. "Take me," she begged, her voice needy and raw.

With one swift motion, you slammed into her, the sound of your hips meeting hers echoing in the quiet room. She threw her head back, a scream of pleasure ripping from her throat. You didn't stop, didn't slow down, pounding into her with an almost primal ferocity. Her nails raked down your back, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and you reveled in the pain, the pleasure mixing in a heady cocktail that had you on the edge.

Emily's moans grew louder, her body tensing as another orgasm built within her. You could feel it, the way her pussy tightened around you, the way her hips met yours thrust for thrust. You reached down, grabbing her wrists and pinning them to the bed, your eyes never leaving hers as you claimed her completely. She bit her lip, trying to keep the sound in, but it was no use. Her cries filled the room, a symphony of ecstasy that had your release barreling down on you like a freight train.

You leaned down, capturing her mouth in a bruising kiss, swallowing her cries as you felt her climax wash over her. You didn't stop, didn't slow, pushing her through the peak and into the abyss of pleasure. Her legs tightened around you, her heels digging into your back as she begged for more. You gave it to her, every inch of you driving into her with an almost scary ferocity. You felt your orgasm coiling in your stomach, ready to pounce.

Emily's eyes rolled back in her head, her body a trembling mess beneath you as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. You watched her, feeling like a god like you had the power to give her everything she ever wanted. You pulled out slowly, watching as she whimpered with the loss of you. But you weren't done yet. You flipped her over, her ass in the air, and slammed back into her without a preamble.

The sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, the only other noises being your grunts and her moans of pleasure. You reached around, grabbing her breasts, pinching and rolling her nipples as you thrust into her from behind. She pushed back against you, meeting your every thrust with an eager groan. You could feel her pussy tightening around you, her orgasm building again.

You leaned down, biting her shoulder as you whispered in her ear, "You like it rough, don't you?"

Emily nodded, her breath coming in pants, "Yesss..." she hissed, her body moving in time with your thrusts. You could feel your orgasm approaching, the tension coiling tighter with each movement. You reached down, grabbing her hips and pulling her back onto you, the angle changing slightly, hitting her just right.

Her walls began to quiver around you, her cries of pleasure growing louder, and you knew she was close. You reached around, finding her clit once again, and began to rub it in circles as you fucked her deep and hard. She was so wet, so tight, and every time you hit that perfect spot, she would clench around you, her muscles rippling with the force of her impending climax.

With one final, powerful thrust, you felt her come undone, her body shaking and convulsing as she screamed your name. You couldn't hold back any longer, and with a roar of pure release, you followed her over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like a storm. You collapsed on top of her, both of you panting heavily, the room spinning with the intensity of your shared climax.

You remained there for a moment, the weight of your bodies pressing into the mattress, before rolling to the side, taking the strap-on with you. Emily turned to face you, a lazy smile playing on her lips as she traced the contours of your face with her fingertips. "You know," she said, her voice still thick with desire, "you need to have a bad day more often."

[myirlnameiscloud]

tw: mentions of abuse. nothing too graphic.

I really hate how Megatron treats Starscream in this episode. Well, in TFP in general of course, but especially in season 2 episode 24.

(Apologies for the slight glitches in the video, idk what happened there.)

I know it's already been discussed quite a lot, but I just hate when people act like TFP Starscream is this completely evil villain who deserved everything they received.

(Further explanation under cut)

Notice the way Starscream flinches when Megatron speaks. Already, in this scene we have signs of terror in Starscream.

Megatron has violated their privacy by entering their brain without their consent, for no good reason. Megatron claims it is to "see if his intentions are true," but I think that's bullshit. He's already seen enough of Starscream to be able to manipulate and bully and terrorize them with ease, so it was unnecessary for him to go into Starscream's mind to look at her private thoughts and memories.

When Starscream tells Megatron to just "take the keys and pretend they were never there," it is an attempt to flee, plain and simple. Starscream only wanted safety from this arrangement, trying to use the omega keys as a deal to regain his status as SIC, or simply as a Decepticon in general. He is scared, and completely gives up on his search of safety with the Decepticons in that moment. Megatron preys on that fear, not letting him leave. More signs of panic arise in Starscream when we see them start to hyperventilate. (Or the Cybertronian equivalent to hyperventilation)

It's just such an abusive thing to do, but I guess, what do you expect from the leader of the Decepticons?

To make things even worse, Megatron shames Starscream for having a "twisted little mind," which I assume is him trying to convince Starscream that he is too stupid and undeserving to disobey Megatron. He threatens to kill Starscream, and that is when it gets even more horrible.

Starscream says that "a good trouncing usually straightens them out," and afterwards, a montage plays of past times where Starscream is beaten by Megatron. This was not for war, this was just to abuse his power over his smaller and weaker SIC to bully and manipulate them. It makes me so sad to see Starscream offer herself up to abuse in order to avoid death. It's just what she's gotten used to over the years.

They could never hurt Megatron in a way that would be equivalent to the pain he has forced them to endure for so long.

And yet, people STILL try to justify the abuse Starscream receives, saying that they are treacherous and cowardly, so they deserve it.

I hate this. I take it very personally, in fact, even when I know I shouldn't. Of course I can still laugh and make jokes about Starscream's self-absorbed personality, but it makes me incredibly uncomfortable to hear people laugh over Starscream being emotionally and physically abused by Megatron. Or worse; when they *romanticize* it.

The creators of TFP even thought it was funny when Starscream was hurt because she "screams like a girl." So I think that, whether people realize it or not, when they laugh at Starscream being hurt by Megatron, it is for somewhat misogynistic reasons. I also think that when people ship Megatron and Starscream (specifically in TFP) that it is not just toxic, but it is abusive. I would consider it a proshipping thing. (Proshippers PLEASE dni)

I've had similar experiences with victim-blaming, so I can't help but get a little defensive when people attack my favorite character for being "deserving of abuse."

Obviously, do whatever you want. This is simply my analysis of the situation, and sharing what I think. Of course I know that Starscream has also done some awful stuff in TFP, but I do not consider them to be 100% evil. I could list reasons why for days, honestly. Regardless, they did not deserve to be abused. Thanks for reading.