#Last time I went I thought it was the end too but they thought she just needed some pain meds and fluids

[nottswitch]

— if you’ve been naughty, you get…

──────────── 𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞.─

summary: they say that the way you spend the new year’s night is the way you’re going to spend the whole year. you never took this expression to heart until now.

pairing: theo nott x reader

cw: 18+ smut, enemies to lovers, fingering, rough p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, semi-public sex, degrading/praise, cursing, italian pet names

wc: 2.1k

a/n: getting back to kinkmas at last !! enjoy some etl theodore filth babes <3

» navigation ; masterlist ; theo m.list ; kinkmas 2024

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You had absolutely no idea how you ended up at the same party as the guy whose entire goal in life was to make yours as difficult as possible. To be entirely honest, you weren’t any better – your taunting seemed to mirror his in its viciousness, for no apparent reason on both sides. Somewhere, at one point, everything went to shit with you two. At first, it used to cause tensions in the friend group, because you just couldn’t stop constantly bickering and throwing all kinds of insults at each other, but over time, your inexplicable apprehension towards each other became a constant – a very annoying one, but a constant nonetheless.

Pansy promised. She promised that the New Year’s Eve party would stay Theodore Nott-free, he had some prior commitment, blah-blah-blah – irrelevant. Because right now, you were looking straight at his infuriating face as he was pressing you against the wall, his deep ocean eyes you couldn’t admit to finding captivating staring into yours. The sounds of the party were muffled, the beat of the music dully thumping through the narrow corridor, sending faint vibrations through the floor.

“You just couldn’t leave me alone, could you?” you hissed, crossing your arms on your chest in a manner that you hoped would come off as defiant, even though you knew it was a defense – same thing, different flavor.

Theo smirked – the smirk that always made your blood boil, a sign that he was enjoying himself way more than he should have.

“How could I ever leave you alone, tesoro?” he drawled, his voice mocking yet carrying a hint of intensity that you had never heard there before. Then again, with him, you could’ve easily just imagined it. “But if I had to guess, I’d say you can’t stay away from me either. And I wouldn’t be that far off, no?”

You huffed, rolling your eyes at his cockiness – it was in no way a surprise, yet it still made your irritation rise to the very top, bubbling up and threatening to escape in the form of another quip.

“Get your head out of your ass, Nott,” you muttered, raising an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“Nott?” Theo taunted in response, leaning in just a bit closer – and that tiny little bit made your heart skip a beat, which you found to be a completely uncalled-for reaction. “Last time I checked, I was ‘Theo, please, faster!’.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

You hated the way your cheeks instantly flushed at his reminder – you did not need to remember that night when your entire composure crumbled to pieces, and you ended up in his bed, screaming his name so loud the walls were nearly shaking.

And you felt like you were on the brink of doing it again.

“If you insist,” Theo murmured, his lips now at your ear, nearly brushing against your skin – the bastard knew exactly how to get to you, unfortunately. You gritted your teeth, trying to resist for a fleeting moment, but when his hand slipped onto your waist, you gave up – and in.

“I hate you,” you whispered, roughly grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him into a heated kiss. Theo didn’t even gasp, which made a nasty thought spark up in your mind – he’d been waiting for this all along, and it probably wouldn’t be too far-fetched to guess that it was the only reason he came to the party in the first place. The kiss was all tongue and teeth, a stark mirror to the contradictory feelings you both shared – biting, rough around the edges, yet at the core of it there was passion that neither of you could bother to deny.

In a matter of seconds, both of Theo’s hands were on your hips, effortlessly lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. Your hands flew up to his shoulders, breaking the self-imposed physical barrier of your arms across your chest and also symbolizing the last bits of your composure withering away. Theo knew – he had to have known – that this would happen, because his palm was at the ready, closing around your breast as soon as it was free to touch. He kneaded the softness of your flesh, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip as his hips started slowly but firmly rocking against you. You felt his hard, already throbbing cock pressing into your clothed pussy, and once again, you were somewhat amused by his ability to get hard in seconds.

“Been like this all night, bambina,” Theo murmured into your mouth, as if hearing your thoughts out loud. So, not in seconds. “The moment I saw you in this dress… Fuck.”

His other hand gripped the hem of your sparkly red dress, lifting it up just enough for it to bunch up at your waist. His eyes flicked down for a moment, a needy growl escaping his mouth as he took in the sight of your fishnets doing a very poor job at covering up the red lace of your panties.

“Wore these for me?” he asked teasingly, although his hoarse voice completely betrayed the fact that he was insanely aroused. His fingers traced the edge of the lace with an almost reverent touch before hooking through the hole of your fishnets and suddenly tearing them apart.

Your eyes widened, not quite expecting the roughness, but you knew you should have – Theo wasn’t known to be a patient man when it came to getting what he carnally desired, and at the moment, the object of that desire was you.

“What the–” you started, but he quickly shut you up with a kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth and swirling around, effectively making you moan. The sound only got louder as you felt his fingers sliding over your panties, savoring the wetness that started to seep through the fabric; he wasn’t the only one with a one track mind since the start of the party – the sight of him in his dark green dress shirt, three buttons at the top undone, caught your eye as soon as he stepped into the room.

“Such a wet little pussy for me, huh?” he whispered breathlessly into your mouth, rubbing a circle over your clothed core before easily slipping underneath – the feeling of your soft, drenched skin made him groan, perfectly matching your own sounds. “Wish I could keep you like this all the time… So fucking pliant…”

And shit, you wouldn’t be able to deny his words even if you tried – you were pliant under his touch, you did turn into melted butter as soon as his index and middle finger slipped inside you, you did clench your thighs around his waist as he started pumping in and out. He was just as pliant, though – you could tell by the way his cock was poking into your inner thigh, straining against the fabric of his trousers. If you had half a mind to look down, you would see a wet spot forming at the front, clear evidence of the fact that he wanted you with the same ever-consuming intensity.

You grew a bit bolder, the pleasure making your brain turn off and forget all about your surroundings or the consequences of your encounter. Your hand traveled down, grabbing Theo’s cock and giving it a firm squeeze, as if to remind him that he was as crazy about you as you were about him. A groan fanned against your ear at the small yet impactful action – a satisfying sound of Theo’s need. His fingers curled inside you before sliding out with a wet pop. The next moment, your juices were being spread all over your lips, mixing with your gloss and creating a strange, sticky texture of sweetness mixed with the tartness of your natural slick. You parted your mouth, letting Theo’s fingers in, your lips wrapping around them and starting to suck, lightly, teasingly, as your hand continued palming his cock.

“Playing with the damn fire, tesoro,” Theo warned in a hiss, taking your hand off of him impatiently. “Naughty, naughty girl.”

In response, you only started sucking more, your head moving back and forth on his fingers. Theo’s eyes were fixed intently on your lips, no doubt imagining them wrapped around something else. He hastily unzipped his trousers with his free hand, pulling them down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers. His erection sprung free, slapping against his shirt-covered stomach. You glanced down, feeling even more turned on as you drank in the sight of his swollen, throbbing cock, knowing that it would be splitting you open very very soon.

And it did. Oh, gods, it did. With a single thrust, Theo entered, his tip immediately reaching your cervix. You moaned around his fingers, your eyes rolling back at the mixture of pain and pleasure – the feelings he could easily elicit in you, both physically and emotionally.

He wasn’t holding back, not in the slightest – his pace was rough and unrelenting, fucking all his frustrations of the last year into you. Your back was moving up and down against the wall, the heated surface scratching your skin, your high heels digging into the small of his back each time he pounded. He didn’t mind the sting, though, just like you didn’t mind the dull ache of his hand digging into your hip, without a doubt leaving marks. Finally, his fingers left your mouth and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you into yet another sloppy mess that could be called a kiss.

The combined sounds of your moans almost drowned out the chatter of the party, but still, you could faintly hear the crowd starting to chant the countdown to the New Year. You pulled away, ignoring Theo’s disappointed whine for a second, trying to hold back on your own noises as you listened.

“The count– The countdown,” you shakily breathed out, meeting Theo’s glossed-over eyes with your misty gaze. He groaned and shook his head, a clear indication that he wasn’t going to stop, not until you were both panting and sweating.

“Who gives a fuck?” he asked in the same breathless voice as yours, his cock somehow reaching even deeper spots, as if trying to coax any stray thoughts out of your head. “What, scared you’re not getting a New Year’s kiss?”

His ability to tease you even as he was balls deep inside of you made you want to slap him, hard. You almost did it, if only you had the strength to move your limbs.

“Yeah, wanted to make a wish,” you tried to retort, your words sounding less convincing than you’d like them to be. “To never see your stupid face again.”

“Oh really? And here I was, about to wish for your charming self every day.”

You would have rolled your eyes at his usual mocking, but they ended up rolling for a completely different reason as Theo pounded into you with an especially rough thrust at the ‘three’ sounding from the main party room.

At the ‘two’, one of his hands was on your cheek, his thumb pressing into the tender flesh. His eyes were fixed on yours again, the intensity from before making you question if there was any truth behind his words.

At the ‘one’, your lips were crashing together once again as the orgasm washed over the both of you, accompanied by the fireworks blowing up outside. Red bursts of light coming from the window on the other side of the corridor cast your flickering shadows onto the wall, the beautiful sight in the sky barely registering in your fucked out mind. The only thing you could feel at the moment was the warmth of Theo’s cum slowly starting to trickle down your thighs, staining Theo’s pants in the process.

“You know,” he murmured, hoarse and panting, his dampened forehead resting against yours, “you make really nice sounds when I’m fucking you brainless, tesoro. I’ll make sure they’re the only ones you’re making with me all year long.”

You breathed out a small chuckle, closing your eyes as you started to come down from the high you were both still stuck on.

“Is that a threat or a promise, Theo?”

“Both, baby. Both.”

[mrsbarnesblog]

one step at a time

masterlist

summary: after being rejected by you, the person who managed to catch Rafe's attention in a way no one else ever had, he goes spiraling into his addiction even more. you happened to be the only one who was able to pull him out of the turmoil in which he had buried himself in the last years.

words count: 6.5k

warnings: drug addiction, withdrawls, mutual pinning, angsty with happy ending

a/n: i've been writing and rewriting it since august and i still don't know whether i like the final result or not, so i'm ready for your feedback. aaaand happy new year to all of you, my precious followers. hope this one will bring you only the best💘

You felt your skin getting hotter under the intense gaze of a particular guy who had been starring at you whenever you two were in the same room. The one who was present in your head all the time, no matter how hard you tried to get distracted and convince yourself that it was not the person that you needed in your life.

Rafe Cameron.

He was in a circle of his so-called friends, mostly not paying attention to them and instead watching you. You didn’t know when it started to happen—when the looks that you gave to each other started to get longer and more frequent, when your eyes started to search around the rooms until they found what they wanted, when the small talks that you had during official Kook’s events became so awkward and nervous.

Your fathers worked together for a few years, so you weren’t friends, more like acquaintances who occasionally attended the same galas and parties, where you usually ended up in the same circle of people. And who, well, might have developed a secret crush on each other. 

The thing is, you didn’t know why you felt that way. Rafe was certainly not the nicest person on the island, yet you didn’t have a real reason to hate him either. He was a menace; he was spoiled and thrived on attention from others. But Rafe was undeniably hot, so damn attractive without even trying, and you just wanted him. Your whole body was gravitating towards him, no matter how you tried to get this bullshit out of your head. 

Still, you knew for a fact that no matter how much even his presence in the room affected you, seeing him do countless and countless lines at every party pushed you away from him more than anything else ever could. You were not the one to ever judge people for their addictions, but seeing many times what drugs did to people, you didn’t want to deal with it at all. Remembering the first time you noticed it, the first time Sarah cried because of how her brother became so reckless and that she was scared for him, a shiever ran down your spine. 

You excused yourself and left from inside the house when the air became to thick with the smell of smoke, alcohol, and sweat from people all around you and when your thoughts started to wander in the familiar direction. You found a semi-quiet space at the balcony on the second floor, but it didn’t take too long until someone else went there, as you heard footsteps approaching you. 

“What are you doing here alone?” You instantly turned around at the sound of Rafe’s smooth voice, only to catch him looking at you up and down with a gleam in his eyes. You heart raced, almost breaking out of your ribcage, while you tried to visibly not freak out.

“Nothing, just needed some fresh air.” You shrugged. “And why are you here?” 

“Honestly?” He chuckled, seemingly feeling nervous, as his right hand started rubbing the back of his neck. “I followed you.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, kinda wanted to talk to you alone for a long time.” He stepped closer, mostly looking at the floor and licking his lips. You didn’t know whether it was the chill air or the fact that Rafe’s presence had a weird influence on you, but you shivered. “You’re so pretty tonight, y’know? I mean, always. Thought I could ask you to hang out sometime. Like without shit tons of people around us?”

Your eyes followed the movements of his slightly trembling hands and the realization that he was high again made your heart sink. It were drugs speaking, you were sure that he wouldn’t have done it with a sober mind, so you just pursed your lips at the bitter feeling in your chest. 

Rafe was almost jittery, either from finally asking you out or the powder that was currently flooding his system — he didn’t even know that himself. He wanted to ask you out for ages, always thinking about the way you pulled his attention like a magnet, the way he craved you more with every passing day, but it seemed like there was never a good moment for that. 

“Rafe…” You breathed out his name, your eyes finally finding his. Pupils dilated, almost covering the pretty blue color, and the look so distant, weird, as if he wasn’t even fully there. “I can’t. This is wrong. I don’t want to do it like that.” 

“You-you’re looking at me. I know I’m not fucking crazy. You look at me the same way I look at you, don’t bullshit me, Y/N.” His eyes narrowed, his throat suddenly dry from the nerves and a hurting feeling of rejection. He stepped closer, which seemed like a way to intimidate you, but you weren't afraid of him, not even in this state of mind. 

“I’m not… denying it, okay? I like you, for some reason.” Your cheeks heated, and you started fidgeting with your fingers, but still looking up at him with seriousness and concern. “But I hate your lifestyle, Rafe. Say whatever you want, but this is not normal. You’re high even right now—I see it in your eyes. Will you even remember this party, me, our conversation the next morning?”

Was it anger that was bubbling inside of him right now? Or maybe agitation? Whatever it was, it hurt him deeply, more than he could admit. For the first time ever, Rafe actually, genuinely, became interested in someone, not with the intention of a meaningless hook up, but just because something was pulling him towards you. And, of course, he had to fuck everything up again with his dumb ass desicions. 

Who was he kidding, thinking that you wouldn’t care about the coke? You were possibly the sweetest person on the island, despite being a kook, and he had never even heard any rumors about you doing anything illegal. You were just the definition of a rich girl who enjoyed her perfect life on an island, hanging out with your friends, doing your hobbies, and never getting into trouble. 

Rafe just wanted to hit his head against the wall from the amount of mixed feelings and thoughts that his poor overstimulated mind was experiencing right now. 

“Rafe, please listen and understand what I say. I’m not rejecting you. I’m just saying that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not even fully there. If the situation was different, I would’ve happily accepted it.” His attention was focused on the floor, but from the way his jaw was clenching while you were talking, you knew that he was listening. “These people are not your friends, because they let you do that and they do not care. You should stop destroying your mind and your body with drugs while you can.” 

You tried to reach out to touch him, but he flinched. 

“Yeah, I–I get it. See ya later.” He mumbled under his breath, not even looking at you.

“Rafe, wait! Rafe!” You tried to call out, but he was already gone, mixing in the croud of people in the main room.

You pushed on the button on the doorbell for the third time, but it seemed like Cameron’s house was silent. Rafe’s truck was on the driveway, as was his red bike, so you knew that he must be home. 

After that talk with Rafe almost three weeks ago, you only heard about him and caught a few glimpses with his friends at Figure 8. People talked that he had gone even crazier than usual and that Shoupe arrested him twice. You were worried that it might be your fault, but just when you decided to catch Rafe the next time you see him, he vanished for the whole day. 

You had to call Sarah to ask what was wrong with her brother, making up a stupid excuse for your sudden interest, and the only thing that she told you was him not getting out of his room and acting weird.

Maybe it was a bad idea to come here uninvited when clearly no one else besides Rafe was home, or because you weren’t even that close, but it was too late to go back when you opened the front door and slowly went up the stairs to his room. 

You were in the house a few times already, when your families had their usual gatherings together, so you pretty much knew where you had to look for Rafe. You stopped in front of his door, unsure of your actions, but before you could run away like a child, your hand had already knocked on the door.

The soft groans and mumbling were heard inside, as well as the sound of the bedsheets and something falling on the floor. Your first thought about him having someone over there made your heart drop for a second, but another groan, almost painful, filled you with concern.  

“Get—get the fuck away, Sarah. T-told you a million fu-ucking times.” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, and it seemed like he was trembling with the way it shaked. You heard cussing and more groans. He did not sound like himself with those strange pauses and unusual sounds, which made the level of your worry skyrocket. What if he was doing coke in there, or maybe something stronger? His ego must’ve gotten hurt because of your rejection, and now he was putting that shit up his nose again. 

“It’s not Sarah, Rafe. Open, please.” You rested your head on the door, listening to the complete silence after your words. He was thinking—you knew that. He was trying to figure something out, and the fact that you didn’t know what was exactly happening frightened you. "Fuck, are you doing it again? I won’t go until you open the door. Rafe, this is not funny!” 

You didn’t expect to see what was in front of you. As soon as the door opened, another version of Rafe was looking at you. He was barely standing straight, gripping the side of the door for dear life, shaking like a leaf and sweating. His face was pale, with almost white lips and bloodshot, exhausted eyes. 

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand, but stepped closer to take a hold of his face. He took something worse than cocaine. He’s high again. It’s bad. Your mind immediately went to a dark place, already feeling tears at the brim of your eyes. 

That’s when Rafe’s eyes met yours, and you froze in place. 

“You are clean.” You said, not asked, breathlessly. Tired, red, and slightly watery, but still clear, eyes looked right at you with a mixture of shame and relief. He licked his lips a few times, probably dehydrated, trying to stay focused on you despite feeling too sick to stand up straight. “Oh my god, Rafe, I thought—What's happening?” 

When he didn’t respond to you, with a new wave of confidence, you pushed him back into the darkness of the room, closing the door behind you and looking around. It was a mess, but no empty bottles, white powder, or random credit cards were seen, and you sighed with relief. 

Rafe was barely holding himself up. His body was fighting against him, craving that poisonous relief again. He swayed on his legs, suddenly feeling way too hot again, even though his skin was covered in goosebumps. It started to become more than he could handle, but another reminder that you were, in fact, right in front of him came in the form of your hands holding his face. 

Your soft eyes were searching for something in him while he tried to focus on your face. He thought that maybe he started hallucinating because, why else would you be there? Rafe leaned forward as his face curled in pain. You hummed in response, taking some of his body weight on yourself. Your hands stayed on his face, while his own trembling ones fell on your waist for some kind of support. 

At first, he thought that he was mad at you. After you rejected him, when he finally found power in himself to talk to you at that party, he was furious. He came back to his friends, immediately pulling out a plastic bag from his pocket and emptying it on the table in front of him. He inhaled more than he needed, hurt and angry from what you said to him. It blocked his mind for some time as everything around got muffled and blurry. His heart was pounding, his breath shallow, but his mind spun faster than he could keep up with. Every word you’d said echoed in his head, sharper and more painful each time.

It went on like that for some time, and at one point Rafe couldn’t even figure out what day it was. Everything was just a blur of parties, his coke buddies, and countless lines on every surface possible. It was bad, and at the back of his mind he knew that he was spiraling somewhere he wouldn’t be able to get out of, but then again, he had no one to try for. Ward didn’t care as long as Rafe didn’t cause any problems; his sisters gave him stares that he thought were either pity or disgust, as you... you weren’t there to fully see it all, so he did everything to prove God knows what, knowing damn well that it was hurt.  

The coke gave him fleeting moments of numbness, but it never lasted. The hurt always came back, heavier and sharper, gnawing at him when the highs faded and the quiet of his thoughts became unbearable.

It all was adding up, until one time Sarah caught him blacked out on the couch besides the pool. He still didn’t know whether it was a game of his mind or it happened actually, but he remembered her faint silhouette, sitting in front of him. She sounded like she was crying, but he wasn’t sure—too high to actually understand. What he remembers were her words, that surprisingly his mind was able to comprehend even in that state. “I thought you were gonna get better. I thought Y/N would be the one to pull you out of this.” Her voice cracked, a mix of sadness and disappointment that cut through the fog in his brain. “But look at you, Rafe. You’re worse than ever.”

Rafe’s vision blurred, though he couldn’t tell if it was from the high or the emotion clawing its way to the surface. He tried to move, to sit up, but his body felt like lead. He hated how vulnerable he felt in that moment, laid out in front of his sister like a broken mess.

“He cares about you, you know. She told me a long time ago how much she liked you. I know you do too. And you could’ve had it all if only you were able to get out of your own way.” Sarah said, her voice soft but edged with frustration. “But instead, you’re here, killing yourself slowly over something that you could fix. Or maybe you’re just too scared to try.”

“I’m not scared.” He gritted his teeth, groaning at the baanging noises in his head.

“Then prove it. Fix your life, Rafe. Until it’s too late.” 

He didn't remember what happened after that, but then he woke up with a more clear head, still confused and disoriented. Sarah’s words were hanging at the back of his head.

What was he even trying to prove? To you? To himself? He’d spent so much time running from the pain, from the rejection, from the fear that he hadn’t realized he was running in circles, destroying everything in his path.

Rafe stood shakily, gripping the back of the couch for support. His reflection in the sliding glass door caught his eye, and he barely recognized the person staring back. Bloodshot eyes, hollow cheeks, and a gauntness that hadn’t been there before. It was a version of himself he couldn’t stand to look at anymore.

He wasn’t sure where to start or if he even knew how to fix it, but he knew one thing: Sarah, once, was right. If he didn’t make a change now, it would be too late. Too late for you to ever see him as someone worth caring about again. Too late to prove to himself that he could be better.

Dragging a hand down his face, Rafe took a shaky breath. One step at a time, he thought, Sarah’s voice still echoing in his mind. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he could do it. He didn’t know if it would be enough, but for the first time, he wanted to try.

“It burns. I feel like my body is on fuckin’ fire. It’s in my veins. I can’t take it anymore, Y/N.” Rafe’s eyes flattered, and his breathing became heavier as another wave of heat washed over him. “I don’t wanna take coke again, but shit—-“

“You can, Rafe. I know you can. You’re doing so well. You have to fight it just a little longer.” You ran your thumbs over his cheeks and realized that he was way too hot. “You need to cool off a little. Can you take a cold shower? Can you do that by yourself?” You slightly patted his cheek until his eyes focused back on yours.

“You actually came?” His voice was hesitant, almost fragile, and a sad smile touched your lips.

“I did. I’ll help you, okay?”

“Mhm… Stay here? Please.” He almost begged, leaning into your touch and licking his dry lips again. With your touch still lingering on his face, Rafe stumbled into his private bathroom while you decided to prepare everything for him. 

After politely rummaging through the room, you found new bed sheets to replace the old ones. Then you quickly aired the room, brought a couple water bottles from the kitchen downstairs, and turned on only one light to not disturb Rafe and his sensitive mind right now. 

As you were cleaning up, you got lost in your thoughts about what had happened in the past few weeks. From Rafe asking you out, then seemingly going crazy because of your rejection, and now his attempt to quit drugs. Not that you didn’t believe in him, but he was so stubborn, and with the amount of problems constantly surrounding him, it wouldn’t be so surprising if he had just ignored you and continued living his own way. 

But you wanted him to get clean so badly because you hated the way coke was affecting him. You knew him for a pretty long time now, and you couldn’t miss the changes in his behavior after he started using. You wanted to see the real him, wanted to help him out, no matter how cliche it sounded. 

You hated that he was so careless about his own body and mind that he willingly put that shit up his nose again and again, thinking that it would change anything. You had feelings for Rafe, you did for a long time, no matter how many people openly said that he was a disaster and a big problem. One thing that you knew for sure was that if he really wanted to try, then you would support him. 

You heard the bathroom door creak open and turned to see Rafe leaning against the frame. He looked exhausted, his damp hair falling into his eyes, his skin pale but no longer feverish. He wore a fresh pair of sweatpants, the towel he had used slung loosely around his shoulders. His expression was a mix of vulnerability and shame, like he wasn’t sure he deserved the care you were giving him.

“Hey.” You said softly, walking over to him. “You feeling any better?”

He nodded faintly, his eyes meeting yours. “A little.” He admitted, though his voice was hoarse. “Thanks for… all this.”

You shook your head. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want to make sure you’re okay.” Rafe’s movements were a little slower than usual when he came closer to you, as if he craved your presence around him. “Just made you a fresh bed. I also brought some water because you’re probably dehydrated. You should try to fall asleep, and I’ll stay here if you want to.” You softly smiled, not missing the way his eyes were glued to your lips, as if he were trying to understand you better. 

“Yeah—shit, I mean okay.” Rafe started breathing heavily again, shaking his head to clear the fog and trying to stop his hands from shaking. 

In a few minutes, you managed to get you both into his bed, with you sitting against the headboard and Rafe’s head comfortably placed on the pillow on your lap. He was facing you, so you could see the way his eyes were flattering while he tried to control himself. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You asked quietly, mindlessly running your hands through his long hair.

“Didn’t think that you would care about it, ‘cause you clearly said no to me.” He shrugged, while one of his hands sneaked under the pillow on your legs and touched your thigh. It wasn’t sexual in any way, but it gave Rafe some kind of comfort.

“I care about you. You are my friend.”

“I don’t wanna be your friend, Y/N.” 

You shook your head at his stubbornness, sliding your fingers down the side of his face. “I know, but we are. At least for now.” Rafe scoffed, tightening the grip on your thigh and trembling as another wave of chills washed over his body. “Sh-h. Remember, I didn’t say ‘no’. I said that I can’t commit to anything if you’re not fully here. It would be unfair for both of us. So now you have to get better, and then we’ll work from there.” His tired eyes met yours as if he were trying to understand whether you were serious or not. “When was the last time you used anything?”

“Yesterday morning.” 

“Mhm, so it’s your second day already. That’s amazing, Ray.” 

Rafe just hummed in response, his mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry. You made him drink some water, trying to convince him that his body needed to get rid of the toxins, and one of the best ways to do it was by drinking a lot of fluids. He was surprisingly obedient, just going back to his previous position with one hand on your leg and facing you. 

You two settled into a comfortable silence, both too lost in your own heads and thoughts. 

Rafe’s eyes didn’t leave your face. No matter how hard it was for him to focus, he studied your features that were perfectly illuminated by the small lamp. He looked at you countless times, always sneaking glances when no one would notice, but right now he thought that you looked the most beautiful. With a soft smile and eyes and slightly messy hair. 

Your hand that was brushing through his dump hair and then touching his face like a feather was almost too good to be true, making Rafe almost forget about the poisonous cravings and unusual reactions of his body. You, you, you—were the only thing on his mind. It was soothing and peaceful. It was calming the storm in his head, so Rafe didn’t want this moment to ever end. 

You mindlessly traced lines on Rafe’s face, just admiring the way he seemed to be calm and relaxed, as much as it was possible in his condition, and how it differentiated from the way he had always acted. Maybe it was stupid on your part to get closer with Rafe so easily, because, let’s face it, he could go back to his habits as soon as you stepped out of the house. Everyone around you constantly talked about him being the type of person who would never change to please somebody and who would never put his pride aside. 

But no matter how hard you tried, the boy in front of you, the one who looked at you with trust and unusual softness, made your heart beat faster. Your body and mind were screaming that you did the right thing and that he was worth saving, so you couldn’t just walk away and pretend to feel nothing. 

As you watched his eyes start to flutter with sleepiness, your own hands slowed down. With the wave of comfort that his company and the atmosphere of the room had brought you, you didn’t notice how you fell asleep. 

The next few days were rough for both of you, with Rafe trying to pull his shit together and not give up and with you trying to be as helpful as possible. He struggled a lot. You saw that pretty clearly, but what you also saw was how actually strong Rafe was and how determined he became to get through it. 

It was underestimating to say that your help and support meant everything to him. Your words of encouragement, your genuine kindness and willingness to help, your visits and time that you spend in his room—it all made it seem like the efforts were not worthless and that there was a reason to fight. 

After almost a week since the day you first fell asleep in Rafe’s bed, your relationship started progressing rapidly. You started actually getting to know each other, and countless text messages and phone calls were proof of that. 

He was feeling much better; the worst of the withdrawal symptoms had passed, and the fog in his mind started to lift. It wasn’t perfect, and there were moments where he felt overwhelmed by the weight of everything he had to face, but he was getting there. You could see it in the way he started to smile more often and how his voice had grown steadier on the phone; he became calmer and wasn’t always on the edge of snapping. 

Your attraction to Rafe grew rapidly whenever you saw the real version of him, the one that was soft and caring, brought up to the surface—the one that had been buried beneath layers of anger, frustration, and his addiction. The version of him that you knew had always been there but had been clouded for so long. It was these moments, the quiet ones when he was relaxed and open, when his vulnerability came through, that made your heart ache in ways you hadn’t expected.

Sitting on the porch at your house, you thought about Rafe and your time together, and your tummy fluttered with anticipation for what was yet to come. You saw that longing look in Rafe's eyes, and you weren’t one bit surprised because that night he clearly said that your friendship was not enough for him, but you hoped to move slowly. 

Even if your breath always hitched whenever he stepped closer or lowered himself to say something to you. 

Even if your heart skipped a bit whenever you saw a message with his name next to it. 

A notification from your phone brought you back to the present, and as soon as you saw Rafe’s text, you proved yourself right. Your heart skipped a beat again as a shy smile touched your lips. 

Café near the beach? My treat. I have something to show you

k, i’ll be there in fifteen

When you got out of the taxi, your eyes scanned the people sitting in the open area under the light of the setting sun, but you didn’t see one particular guy who started messing with your head in the best way possible. 

That was until you saw someone turning their head back, as if they sensed you standing there, and your mouth fell open in shock. 

You came closer as Rafe stood up from his chair with a smug look on his face, but your eyes were too hungry, taking him in, to even try to be respectful. 

“Your hair! Oh god, Rafe! How—why—when?" Your hand reached out to touch his freshly buzzed hair, rubbing it back and forth. 

“Texted you as soon as I finished. Just wanted to get rid of the past, y’know.” He shrugged, soft eyes studying your face that was way closer while you inspected his new haircut. “Don’t you like it?”

“It’s hot—I mean, you look hot. It suits you.” You stepped back, looking up and down, trying to memorize a new image. Rafe did look hotter. You suddenly noticed his sharp jawline, strong neck, and shoulders. Damn, he looked bigger. He looked healthier. With that spark in his blue eyes, smoothed, tan skin, and muscles... Oh god, you felt your face getting hotter as your eyes lingered on his arms way too long. 

How the hell did you miss his sudden transformation from being a frat guy to a rich golden boy? Was it the effect of his quitting drugs and finally drifting apart with his previous lifestyle and friends?

“It definitely does. Though I'll miss playing with them.” You mumbled, suddenly nervous and shy under his gaze.

“You think I look hot, hm?” He teased, placing a firm yet gentle hand on your lower back.

Touchy, but never overstepping. 

“Don’t you know that already?” You bit your lip to hold back a smile, placing your hands on Rafe’s upper arms and looking up through your lashes. You both felt that sudden tickling feeling running through your veins at the eye contact, and it made you both start smiling without any words being said. 

“A’ight, I think we should go get something to eat.” 

You were going around the people who flooded the beach house that you were currently in. With you constantly spending time with Rafe, your friends almost begged you to the party, only to leave you almost instantly as they got too interested in the experience of alcohol. Not that you were too upset about it, because you still asked Rafe to come with you, and he was more than happy to do anything for you. 

The music was too loud in the main room, and you went through the back door to an open yard that led right to the beach and was still full of drunk people, but at least there was some fresh air, and Rafe had already been waiting for you on the bench near the big wooden table with lots of drinks. 

You left him just for a few minutes just to use a bathroom, but when you stepped outside, you saw him talking to a guy that you had only seen around when Rafe was doing drugs. Your heart started beating faster at the sight of their obviously not so calm conversation, and you rushed closer to know what was happening. 

“Rare? What’s going on?” You stepped beside him, brushing your hand against his stiff back. “What do you want from him?” You pointed a finger at the guy whose name you didn’t bother to remember, and he just snickered back at you. 

“Nothing. It’s alright, sweetheart.” 

“Quit being a pussy, man. I have the best shit with me today. You’ll get high as a kite.” The guy completely ignored you, only looking at Rafe. You could physically feel the anxiety washing over you at the thought of it happening again, of Rafe just walking away with him right now and leaving you here alone. 

You tugged at his arm, trying to catch his attention. “Rafe, you promised. We should go now, please.” He looked back at you, nodding without hesitation and catching your hand to interlace your fingers. 

“Told you that I quit it. Go chase someone else, Hugh.” 

“Because of this bitch?” The moment this word left his mouth, Rafe’s hands gripped the front of Hugh’s t-shirt, backing him against the table and knocking over a few bottles. 

“Call her a bitch one more fucking time and I’ll knock off your teeth.” The guy lifted his hands in surrender, as Rafe was seething with anger, without a doubt meaning what he just said. 

You tugged gently on his arm again, trying to ease the situation. “Rafe, let’s just go, please.” You urged, your voice soft but firm, hoping to ground him before things escalated any further.

Rafe’s breath was heavy, his grip on Hugh’s shirt still tight, but his eyes were fixed on you now, softening at your touch. Slowly, he released Hugh, stepping back and running a hand through his hair.

“Yeah, we’re done here.” Rafe muttered, his voice low and controlled, though the anger still simmered beneath the surface. You guided him away from the curious people, who were already whispering about the unfolded scene.

You sat on a wooden bench under a giant tree, with your legs thrown over Rafe’s and almost no distance between you two. It happened so instantly, so naturally, that none of you even thought about it. Rafe had his warm hands laying on your thighs and knees and rubbing your exposed skin in small circles, keeping his eyes down.

A silence lingered between the two of you, and while Rafe was too lost in his head, you took your time to admire him. You spent so much time together over the past month, not because you felt obliged to, but because it was simply amazing. Underneath all of those layers, you found real Rafe, the one who was teasing, who was funny, and the one who was super protective and incredibly caring.

You had never expected to be absolutely down for a man like him, but he was getting so much better with every passing day, never giving you a reason to doubt his intentions. Of course you didn’t forget Rafe’s words about him wanting to be more than your friend, and it lingered over your head every time you caught him staring at you. Though he had never rushed anything, wanting to have that natural bond between you grow stronger and only showing his hidden desires with glances full of admiration and with careful touches. 

Rafe’s head suddenly shot up, eyes clear yet narrowed. He smirked, seeing you already looking at him and subconsciously tightening his hold on your leg. He held eye contact for a few seconds, making a smile tug at your lips before he looked away, shaking his head with a deep chuckle. 

“What?” You half-whispered, suddenly feeling shy. 

“Do you even know what you’re doing to me?” You tilt your head slightly to the side, trying to hold back a smile, but miserably fail when he moves a tiny bit closer and all you can see, feel, and smell is him. “You’re like— I’m— Fuck, you made me stutter like a damn middle schooler…” He was completely infatuated by you, barely able to handle his violently beating heart.  

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound warm and full of affection. The way Rafe was fumbling with his words, clearly flustered, made you feel something deep in your chest—a flutter that wasn’t just attraction but something more vulnerable, something you hadn’t expected to feel when you first started spending time together.

“Rafe…” You whispered, leaning in just a little, your voice low and teasing. “You’re so cute when you’re like this.”

His eyes darkened slightly at your words, the smirk on his lips turning into something more sincere, more tender. He took a deep breath, shifting so he was closer, his chest nearly touching yours. His fingers slowly and carefully traced the edge of your skirt, and the way his gaze flickered between your eyes and your lips made the air feel thick with tension.

“Don’t do that.” He said softly, his voice a mixture of amusement and longing. “I’m trying not to make this harder for myself.”

“Trying?” You raised an eyebrow, your teasing smile not leaving your lips. You knew exactly what you were doing, enjoying every second of his reaction. “You’re doing a pretty terrible job of it.”

Rafe exhaled sharply, his hand now resting on your waist, his thumb brushing back and forth slowly as if he were trying to steady himself. You could feel his breath on your skin, warm and erratic. He leaned forward just enough to close the space between your faces, his lips hovering over yours, but not touching. The energy in the air around you suddenly shifted, and you raised your hand to his neck to pull him even closer.

“I don’t want to rush this.” Rafe murmured, his voice low and serious, his forehead gently pressing against yours. “But god… you make it so damn hard to hold back.”

You could feel his heart beating against yours, the rhythm erratic but strong. You didn’t speak for a moment, simply breathing with him, caught up in the quiet intensity of the moment.

“You don’t have to hold back. I’m not going anywhere, Ray.” You said softly, your voice almost a promise.

And with that, the tension seemed to snap, the silent understanding between you both growing stronger. He finally closed the space between you, his lips pressing gently against yours, tentative at first, as if he were still unsure but desperate to feel you. And as the kiss deepened, as he pulled you closer to his body, you were completely lost. 

The kiss deepened further, his tongue gently coaxing yours into a slow dance. He was lost in you, the intensity of the moment making everything else fade away. The way you responded, so naturally, so eagerly, only fueled his desire. Rafe’s grip on you tightened, pulling you onto his lap, your bodies fully pressed together now, the heat of his body seeping into yours.

When he finally pulled back, his lips still brushed against yours, his breath shaky and uneven. He looked at you, his eyes full of something deeper than just desire—there was a tenderness, raw and vulnerable, something that had been buried beneath the walls he’d built around himself.

"Thank you." Rafe breathed out, his voice thick with emotion. "For being here. For helping me... through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without you."

You smiled softly, licking your lips before speaking. “You don’t have to thank me. You should be proud of yourself for being able to do that.” You traced your fingers down the side of his face. “Just promise me you won’t stop trying if something hard happens, okay? You have me, and you have your sixers who care about you too.”

“Okay. I won’t. I promise.” Turning his head to the side to place a kiss on the palm of your hand that lingered on his face, Rafe pulled your body closer to him. There was still a lot to work on, but hidden away from other people, you finally savoured a quiet moment between you two, and for the first time, there was nothing but peace and warmth in both of your hearts. 

[yaut-jaknowit]

Morally ambiguous corpo scientist gets transfered to a "exciting new project" only to find it's a Predator breeding program.

Breeding Program

Character: T'a'yta (Male Yautja) x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: I'M WARNING YOU NOW, I WENT FERAL BADLY. Rape/Non con contents. Sex pollen, SMUT, very rough sex, knotting, breeding. Read at your own risk, seriously.

Word Count: 3159

Summary: As a scientist, the ability to move up in the world was amazing. To surpass people you thought were the top dogs in your program and placed in a new section. A new program. You hadn't been briefed but the pay was phenomena. Nothing to complain about there. You met up with Amelia, the head of the program, at the facility and get a tour. At the end, she takes you down a hallway, opens a door to a pitch black room. Then shoves you in.

Author Note: I'm warning you all. This seriously might be the darkest thing I've ever wrote. I don't know why my brain went this route, but it did. Please, I'm warning you. If you don't like it, don't read it.

Masterlist

Ao3

After the years to finally work underneath this team of scientist, you were astonished to find they had referred you higher up the chain. To a new exciting project that could change the world. The opening letter they gave you easily hyped you up. Before you knew it, you were accepting the new position. Your items were going to be transferred over at a later date.

The new team wanted to meet you so bad. That’s what they told you. That’s what you believed. You found yourself at the new building that had just been finished. This was nerve racking but exciting at the same time. All new equipment and gear to test out. State of the art equipment has been entrusted to you. Out of all the people, you’ve been promoted to such a position. This was destiny!

Smiles greeted you when you first walked through the doors. The team lead was here in person to greet you the moment you stepped onto the new grounds.

Amelia says your name with a soft smile that complimented her features. “It’s so good to see you! We’ve been waiting for you to finally arrive. I hope the travel wasn’t bad?” She guides you towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors open and welcome you aboard. You step in after Amelia, nearly bouncing off of the ground with each step. A dream becoming reality.

“No,” you shake your head. “It wasn’t bad. The flight was beautiful though. Being that high up.” The memory of all the gorgeous clouds that covered the sky. Then, seeing as far as the eye could see. All of the land that went on and on. You loved it. “I’m so excited to be here too. It’s been my dream to work in an environment like this. When do I get to meet the rest of the team?”

There weren’t much for details about the project besides how cool it would be for you to join the team. Of course, you couldn’t say no. Not when a job like this could be the last one you would ever need. Plus, the pay was… wow. Amazing!

The elevator’s doors slid open to reveal a long hallway with black tile floors and grey walls. Little décor filled the empty space. You didn’t mind it. The place was still new. Maybe they hadn’t gotten around to fully furnishing the space.

Both of you walked out. Amelia laughed. “Oh, they’re around. They just didn’t want to crowd you and overwhelm you on your introduction day. Today is just meant to show you around, learn the space before the people, you know?” You nodded along, agreeing with everything she said. You already felt on the verge of being overwhelmed with a different workspace and people.

“Aw, alright. If you can, tell them I can’t wait to meet them, please?” you asked of her. All you wanted to do was impress the team more than you already have. To show them that you have a passion for science. It’s your livelihood.

“I sure can do that for you.” Amelia took the closet right down the hallway from the elevator. Her steps were precise with black two-inch heels. “They’ll be happy to know you’re thinking about them.”

A long, rectangular glass window was built into the wall. Amelia stops and motions towards the glass. Where you see tables of equipment just sitting there, ready for use. They are brand new, still shiny and lacking even fingerprints. Your eyes sparkle, hands twitching desperate to touch everything. But, you tamper down the feeling.

“This is amazing already, Amelia. I can’t wait to see the rest of the building.” When she smiles at you again, it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “When will be my first day? I hadn’t gotten any emails about it.” You were concerned that maybe something as wrong with your emails. You needed to get everything right. This was your dream job. Over your dead body will you let this go.

She waves her hand like she’s brushing it off. “We’ve been having a little issue with our emails lately. Currently, we have you starting as soon as possible. Whenever you are ready.” Seriously?! That meant you could probably start today!

The tour continued down the same hall, taking a right. “Really? Is it possible I could start today? I would love to get my hands on the tools as soon as possible.” Hopefully you don’t overdo it with your passion to work. At least in this field.

“Of course. I’m glad because we were planning for your first day to start right now.” She shows you to another room similar to room before with a more open space. This side looked like it dealt with more chemicals than biology. “The team isn’t here today. But I’m more than happy to let you roam after the tour, get to know the place.”

This possibly couldn’t be happening! God, you were in heaven. No one could smack the smile off of your face. No matter how hard they tried.

“Thank you. I’m so glad I can start today. I promise not to let you down.” Another room is showed to you. “I’ve had a passion for science since I was little. I know I’m going to be a great fit for the team.”

“I know you won’t let us down.” The two of your continue further down a different hall. The doors become less welcoming and more… prison like. As if they’re trying to keep something in. In the heat of the moment, you silence the alarm going off in your head. “I know you will be a great fit. Very great fit to our team.”

There’s something in the way she said that nearly threw you off. Your brows furrowed for only a second before she stopped in front of a door. This one looked even more heavily modified than any of the others you’ve seen. It’s at the end of a hallway, furthest from the rest of the facility.

“Ah, here we are. I can’t believe the tour already has come to an end.” She almost sounded genuinely sad to end the tour. Amelia places her hand on a screen next to the entrance. “This is where I leave you to your work, doctor.”

The metal slab slid into a hidden pocket and revealed a dark, pitch black room. You tilted your head and peered inside. Maybe the lights will turn on by motion. You turn towards her. “Hey the lights-“

Hands shoved at you from behind. A scream left your lips as you stumble forward before falling to your hands and knees. The darkness instantly crowds you, trying to suck you into its being. You whipped your head around to find Amelia standing at the entrance with an evil grin. A shudder ran its course through your body. Your breathing started to increase.

“Have fun with our new… project.” Then, the door snapped close and sealed you in the pitch blackness that threatened to consume you whole.

Your heart thundered in your ears. Blindly, you stood on unsteadily legs with your arms out to feel around. One step forward almost sent you back to the ground. The shakiness of your entire being was throwing you off. You took another step of faith only to be blinded by white light that sent you back on your butt.

Pain stung at your sensitive eyes. The change didn’t take you long to peel them open and see the room you’ve been thrown into.

And the beast who watched with rapt attention.

Terror gripped at your heart. You didn’t move, didn’t blink, didn’t even breathe. It’s bright, vibrant eyes that nearly glowed were pinned on your trembling form. It’s barrel chest heaved with each deep intake of air it took. Never did it look away from you.

Something about it made you feel like prey in the sight of a predator. It just needed to sink its claws into your fragile flesh.

“You might be wondering what this thing is and why we’ve brought you here?” Amelia’s voice broke the tension in the air coming from a speaker system. You yelped at the sudden sound and scrambled backwards. The humanoid creature observed every move you made. The moment you moved, it roared with a piercing sound and lunged at you.

Heavy chains secured it to the wall. They creaked under its strength as its wild eyes looked at you. Its arm clawed at the air as if it could pull you closer. Your back smacked against the nearest wall as you stared at the creature. Fear evident in your eyes. You watched as the beast cried and spat spittle with each attempt to get to you. But, thankfully the chains held.

“This is the project we’ve raved about. Meet… a Yautja. An alien from outer space,” Amelia lets the words settle for a dramatic pause. In the mean time, the creature has finally calmed down once it realized it couldn’t get to you for the moment. “Well, we needed someone to test something out for us. Of course, I didn’t want to use any of our wonderful staff here. So, I choose you. Our new test subject.”

Test subject?! “For what!?” you screamed at her, hoping she could hear you. Hear the anger that wiggled through the terror.

“For our breeding program.” You blinked once. Twice. Three times. Then, the words finally sunk in completely. “We’ve captured this Yautja when he landed in LA. We gave him an aphrodisiac. Now, he’s become a mindless, breeding male. And you, our dear test subject, will be the first. We hope you survive.”

Silence entered the air afterwards. The speakers no longer buzzed with energy. Her words flew wildly inside of your mind, bouncing around every corner. You tried to make sense, come to terms with what she’s put you into. But it… you couldn’t settle. They’re using you for a breeding program with an alien. An alien that looked ready to tear you apart rather then- you stopped the thoughts. You swallowed thickly and weakly stood on shaky legs.

In horror, you observed the chains clicking open. Once the last one was released, there wasn’t even time to register the brown, humanoid shape flash across the room. Strong, massive hands snatched your throat and the front of your shirt. The fabric was torn from your form and discarded without any regard. Next, your pants and underwear were taken care of in the same matter.

You screamed and tried to kick and punch the mindless beast. All of your strikes hit. Yet none of them deterred him. It seemed like they didn’t even tickle him. It forced you face down, ass up underneath it. The entire palm of his hand gripped the side of your head, keeping you pinned in a primed position.

It leaned down and covered you with its entire body. Heat radiated off of it like a firepit. Flames flickering to lick at your clammy skin. You shuttered at the difference of temperature. It’s free hand reached between your legs but paused for a moment.

“I-I ca-an’t stop,” a throaty, croaky voice whispered into your ear. You tensed up underneath the beast before jerking at the touch of its fingers. They glided through your slit, gathering what slick had pooled. Your body betraying you at the knowledge of a monster getting ahold of you.

That almost… sounded like an apology of some kind. The scientists have turned this alien into a mindless, breeding machine with the aphrodisiac. The poor thing couldn’t control its actions. All it could do was follow instinct, despite the difference of species.

A whine surged past your lips when the wet pad of its finger rubbed around your hardening nub. At least, he was trying to make it bearable. You felt something blazing hot and throbbing slide between your open legs, rubbing against your slit. A moan left your lips before you could stop yourself. You didn’t stop struggling but your attempts were weakening.

The tip was tapered by the feeling of it. You felt it nudge against your entrance. He paused for a moment, as if fighting the drugs that filled his system. Then, his hips snapped forward and full sheathed his cock into you. You cried out against the dirty, concrete floor and clawed for escape. The beast added more weight to pin you down and began a pace you couldn’t comprehend. All before you had a chance to make sense of what’s up and what’s down.  

Each thrust nearly sent you flying towards the wall. If it wasn’t for his hand on your head, you would’ve been smooshed against it. Your eyes were clenched shut. “Fuck! S-slow… slow down!” you begged for relief, even for a moment. The beast deepened a growl and quickened his thrusts somehow. The pain only increased with pleasure. You were barely able to breath as he thrusted into you sent the air out of your lungs.

His other hand not holding your head gripped your hip in a bruising hold. Sharp talons punctured your flesh. Beads of red pooling to the surface then dripping down your belly and onto the cold, unforgiving floor. There was nothing you could do to stop him. All you were able to do was hold on for the unrelenting ride.

To ease some of the ache, you reached between your legs and circled two digits around your puffy clit. The stretch of his massive, thick cock pressed against every little nerve you had. At the touch, you mewled and quickened the speed almost to match his.

Your bottom lip was pinched between dull teeth, trying to hold in your noises. It was embarrassing. To take enjoyment out of this. But, fuck. The creature took up every inch of available space inside of you then some more. You could feel the way your stomach distended each time he sheathed himself to the hilt. There was something expanding at the base of him as well. It would catch each time he pushed in and out.

Thick fingers gripped the strands of your hair and yanked your head back. One arm slapped against the smooth concrete floors. You squealed and released the hold on your lip, forced to let everyone know how you were feeling.

The pleasure building in your stomach was amounting to something. Despite the ache and pains this gave you, you were feeling the coil tightening. You rewetted your fingers with your own juices before going back to work. The way they easily slid over your puffy clit had you seeing stars.

It continued to build and build. He lets go of your hair, letting your upper torso to lie back on the ground. You almost curled into yourself, confused about the nearing end, and panted heavily. “Oh, fuck. H-how?!” you muttered to yourself.

White flashed across your vision. Your walls clamped down on his thick shaft, trying to suck him in deeper. A weak, pathetic squeak escaped your vocal cords, the only sound you could make. Your entire body tensing up and rode out the waves of the overwhelming pleasure.

Amidst your orgasm, the beast growled in victory then pushed his hips flush with yours. A loud, deafening roar tore from his throat. You felt his cock swell inside of you, the base locking him inside of you. The ball of flesh pressed against the sensitive bundle of nerves just on the inside of your cunt. You trembled and shook underneath him. The ecstasy far too much for you to handle.

As the last of the pleasure started to fade away, you slumped weakly onto the floor, hips still held up by his hand. The feeling of the thick, swollen flesh boarded uncomfortable. You trembled and attempted to pull your hips away from his.

The creature snarled threateningly and ensnared your entire waist with an arm. You fearfully tensed up. But, he calmed down afterwards and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

Deadly fangs grazed across your flesh, pebbling the skin with goosebumps. Vibrations ran down from your spine. Barely a sound made. He rubbed his face against your skin, coating you with his scent.

You were thankful for that to be over. For the most part. He was still lodged deep inside of you with no way of pulling out. He wouldn’t let you. You took in deep, lungsful of air, and tried to regulate your breathing.

Some time past when you felt him start to deflate inside of you. With a grunt, the creature jerked his hips back. The ball of flesh popped free from your stretched entrance. He pulled away. Fresh air flushed over you and made you shiver at the coolness of the air.

Yet, you weren’t cold for long. The same heat from before prodded at your entrance. Your exhausted state immediately drained away. You jerked up and attempted to get on your hands. A massive hand slammed you back onto the ground. The alien snarled another warning to you then sunk all the way to the base inside of you again.

It wasn’t as painful as before. The earlier treatment had you stretched out beyond your limits. You still keened at the feeling and squirmed. He rewrapped his arm around your waist and pulled your hips flush with his.

“Again?” you asked with a cry. The first round was punishing enough. You didn’t know if you could survive another go with him.

He pulled his hips back until the tip was still sitting just inside of you. With a growl, the beast plowed back into you without any mercy.

The aphrodisiac was a powerful drug on him. It forced him to go on. All the way till you reached the verge of blacking out. Either from exhaustion or the amount of orgasms he pulled from you. You swore he went until his balls had been emptied inside of you, filling you with his seed. The inside of your legs coated with it. With a small puddle pooling between your trembling legs.

Finally, the creature collapsed to the side and pulled you with him. His knot was still lodged inside of you, keeping the contents of his last orgasm deep inside of you. You had no energy to fight. You let him take you, unable to barely keep your eyes open enough to see. They were filled with blurry tears.

His arm tightened around your waist, keeping you locked to him. You groaned, deep from your chest, eyes shut at this point.

“If you can hear me… I am sorry for my actions,” he muttered lowly into your ear. Only for you hear. You didn’t have the energy to answer. Just lying there, in his arms, letting sleep take you away. “I promise you. I’ll get us out of here.”

Hope fluttered to life in your chest.

[pbaz7]

AGAINST THE TIDE: PART SIX

paige x azzi

word count: 4.7k

A/N: This is just a cute little chapter to show how much their dynamic has grown/changed. There will be a few time jumps after this because we’ll never get anywhere otherwise 😭. I love all the live reactions and comments I’ve been getting, they’re actually hilarious.

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After spending the night in Paige’s room, the two of them got impossibly closer. When they woke up the next morning, Paige invited Azzi to tag along to her physical therapy session. Azzi of course agreed, and from that moment on, they spent every waking hour together for the rest of the short winter break. Whether it was in rehab, watching movies in Paige’s room, or going out for a sweet treat in the middle of the night at Azzi’s request, they became inseparable.

When they returned to UConn after Christmas, it was the exact same. It was rare to see one without the other. Both of them were sidelined with injuries, which only gave them more excuses to stay close. During games, they sat on the bench together, Paige talking Azzi’s ear off about strategy, stats, and whatever random thoughts crossed her mind. Azzi didn’t mind; she found Paige’s rambling endearing, even when it meant missing part of the game on the court.

Off the bench, they poured themselves into helping the team however they could. They watched hours of film together, analyzing plays and finding ways to improve their teammates’ performance with so many of them sidelined with injuries. Huddled around a laptop in the locker room or sprawled out on the floor of Paige’s dorm, their heads often ended up leaning close enough that their shoulders brushed. Neither pulled away.

Neither of them brought up the new dynamic between them. It was like there was a silent agreement to ignore the feelings simmering just beneath the surface. They told themselves it was easier this way, to focus on recovery and basketball. But the excuses only went so far.

Their stolen glances during film sessions lasted a second too long. The casual touches—Paige nudging Azzi’s knee when she made a good point, or Azzi grabbing Paige’s forearm to drag her somewhere or emphasize her own thoughts—left feelings between both of them. Paige’s heart raced every time Azzi’s hand lingered on hers, while Azzi found herself melting into a puddle by the way Paige’s voice softened when they were alone. A softness she only seemed to have for Azzi.

Still, they stayed in the safe lane of ‘friendship’ burying their feelings beneath layers of banter and shared routines. To them that seemed to work but to anyone else looking at their dynamic it definitely seemed like they were in a relationship. The two of them basically teased and flirted with one another nonstop.

January 2022

Today was no different. They were currently on the road, heading back to Connecticut after taking a quick trip to see Paige’s surgeon for her check-up. The car was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the faint sound of music playing from the speakers. Paige was driving, her hands relaxed on the wheel, and Azzi was trying her best to focus on anything but her.

It wasn’t easy. Azzi wasn’t used to seeing Paige behind the wheel—usually, she was the passenger, sprawled out and carefree. But now that Paige could drive she insisted on doing it every time and Azzi could never stop glancing over at her. The way Paige’s jawline looked when she would clinch it at someone doing something stupid in front of her, the subtle furrow of her brow as she concentrated on the road, or, worst of all, the way her long fingers gripped the steering wheel, knuckles flexing slightly.

Azzi swallowed hard, her thoughts wandering somewhere they absolutely shouldn’t be. She blinked, forcing herself to look straight ahead, but her gaze betrayed her almost immediately, drifting back to the blonde.

Paige caught her. She glanced over, catching Azzi’s lingering stare, and a slow smirk spread across her face. “What?” Paige asked, her voice laced with amusement.

Azzi groaned at being caught, throwing her head back against the seat. “Stop driving like that.”

Paige laughed, the sound warm and teasing as she gave her a quick side glance. “Like what, Azzi?”

Azzi waved her arms in Paige’s direction, clearly flustered. “Like that! You know what you’re doing.”

Paige grinned wider, unable to hide how much she was enjoying this. “I’m literally just driving. You’re the one making it weird.”

Azzi let out a frustrated noise, crossing her arms and slouching slightly in her seat. “No, you’re doing something. I don’t know what, but it’s distracting.”

Paige chuckled, shifting her grip on the wheel—whether to mess with Azzi or just to adjust, Azzi couldn’t tell, but it didn’t help. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but this is how I always drive. Guess you’ll just have to deal with it.”

Azzi shot her a glare but couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re so annoying, you know that?”

Paige glanced over briefly, her smirk softening into something more playful. “Yeah, but you clearly like it.”

Azzi huffed, turning her gaze out the window to avoid giving Paige the satisfaction of seeing her flustered. But her resolve didn’t last long. Her eyes betrayed her, flickering back to Paige’s hands on the steering wheel. The way her fingers flexed just slightly, the grip firm and sure—it was ridiculous how something so mundane could have Azzi’s thoughts spiraling.

Paige caught her again, and her smirk deepened. “Are you seriously doing it again dude?”

Azzi groaned, slouching in her seat. “Oh my God, stop.”

“Stop what?” Paige asked innocently, purposefully shifting her grip on the wheel, her fingers flexing just a little more dramatically this time.

Azzi covered her face with her hands, her voice muffled as she muttered, “I hate you so much.”

Paige laughed, the sound light and teasing. “No, you don’t.” She shifted her hands again, dragging the moment out, clearly enjoying Azzi’s growing frustration.

“Paige,” Azzi warned, her voice low, though it lacked any real bite.

“What?” Paige asked, feigning innocence as she glanced over at her. “I’m just driving.”

Azzi groaned, leaning back in her seat. “Oh my God, just stop. Why do you even drive like that?”

“Like what?” Paige asked innocently.

Azzi let out a frustrated noise and covered her face with her hands. “You’re doing it on purpose now. I know you are.”

Paige chuckled, her laugh warm and teasing. “Maybe.” She then switched driving hands as she dropped her right hand from the wheel, letting it fall casually onto Azzi’s leg.

Azzi froze, her breath hitching as Paige’s fingers rested just above her knee, her touch light but deliberate. Her wide eyes snapped to Paige, who kept her gaze firmly on the road, her smirk now bordering on a full grin.

“What are you doing?” Azzi demanded, her voice higher than she intended.

Paige shrugged, her tone casual. “Nothing. Just resting my hand. Relax.”

Azzi’s hands shot up in disbelief, gesturing toward the offending hand on her leg. “Relax? Are you kidding me? Move your hand before you crash!”

Paige laughed, giving her thigh the faintest squeeze before replying, “I’m not gonna crash from touching your leg, Azzi. Chill.”

Azzi groaned, squeezing her eyes shut for a second before snapping, “Fine! Move it before I lose my mind.”

Paige’s laugh deepened as she finally slid her hand back to the wheel. “You’re so easy to mess with.”

Azzi groaned, slumping into her seat and covering her face again. “I hate you. I actually hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Paige replied, glancing over with a playful glint in her eye. “Admit it, you like when I mess with you.”

Azzi huffed but couldn’t suppress the warmth spreading across her face—or the tiny smile tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Paige smirked, her confidence only growing. “I’m not the one having a heart attack over getting their leg touched.”

Azzi glared at her but couldn’t fight the laugh bubbling out. She shook her head, muttering under her breath. “I’m going to lose my mind before we get back to Connecticut.”

Paige glanced at her again, the teasing replaced with something softer, though her smirk lingered. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” she murmured, her voice quieter but no less bold.

Azzi bit her lip, forcing herself to look out the window again, but she couldn’t hide the way her cheeks burned—or the way her heart raced whenever Paige pushed her buttons just like this.

…

The teasing had died down as the miles stretched on, replaced by a comfortable silence. Azzi was staring out the window, watching the trees blur past, but her mind was thinking about any and everything related to the girl sitting next to her. She glanced at Paige, her jaw set in quiet concentration as she navigated the highway. Finally, Azzi broke the silence.

“Can I ask you something?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, glancing over briefly. “Yeah, of course.”

Azzi hesitated, her fingers fidgeting in her lap. “Why did everyone used to be so worried about you? I remember hearing stuff, but no one really explained. And when I started going with you it was never that bad so why’d they make it such a big deal before?”

Paige’s hands tightened slightly on the wheel. She let out a slow breath, her eyes fixed on the road ahead. “That’s... kind of a long-ish story.”

Azzi turned toward her, leaning slightly against the door. “We’ve got time.” Her voice was soft, no pressure, just genuine curiosity.

Paige laughed lightly, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Okay, but you can’t freak out, it was a long time ago, alright?”

Azzi frowned but nodded. “Alright.”

Paige shifted in her seat, adjusting her grip on the wheel. “It was after the Final Four. A couple of weeks after we lost. I just... wasn’t in a good place. I blamed myself for everything—every missed shot, every mistake. It felt like I let everyone down. So, I did what I always do. I locked myself in the gym.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed. “For how long?”

Paige shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “A couple of days, maybe?I didn’t realize I wasn’t really eating or drinking water. Just working out, watching film, shooting until I couldn’t stand anymore.” She gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “Literally.”

Azzi’s stomach twisted. “What do you mean?”

“Evina found me passed out,” Paige admitted quietly, her voice almost lost under the hum of the car. “It was just dehydration and not eating enough, nothing serious. But after that, everyone started treating me like I was fragile or something.”

Azzi stared at her, the air catching in her throat. “Paige...”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Paige said quickly, waving it off. “Dehydration, low blood sugar—nothing serious.”

“That is serious,” Azzi countered, her tone sharp with concern.

Paige shrugged, a faint bitterness in her smile. “Maybe. But at the time, it felt like I deserved it, you know? I wasn’t happy, Az. Not with basketball, not with myself. I basically hated myself. It was like... no matter how much time I spent in the gym, it didn’t make up for how I felt. I just wanted to work hard enough to forget, but instead, I ended up running myself into the ground.”

Azzi’s brow furrowed as she processed Paige’s words. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Paige let out a soft laugh. “Who? Tell them what? That I couldn’t handle the pressure? That I felt like a failure? Everyone was looking at me to bounce back, to lead, to be Paige Bueckers. I couldn’t let them see me crack.” She paused, her voice barely above a whisper. “I felt so alone. Like no one understood what I was going through. So I didn’t talk to anyone and just spent my days in the gym.”

Azzi’s chest tightened. “Paige, that’s... I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you went through all of that by yourself.”

“I didn’t really have a choice,” Paige murmured. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you can just explain to people.”

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but Paige spoke first. “My knee’s starting to ache a little.” She glanced at Azzi, her tone lighter but her eyes searching. “There’s a diner at the next exit. Let’s stop for a bit.”

Azzi frowned slightly, sensing something beneath the excuse, but nodded. “Yeah, okay. You sure you’re good?”

“Yeah,” Paige said, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I just... want to sit for a bit. And, you know, look at you while we talk instead of staring at the road.”

Azzi felt her cheeks warm at the admission but said nothing as Paige took the exit.

Once they were seated in a quiet booth at the corner of the diner, Azzi finally spoke. “I didn’t know it was that bad for you.”

Paige stirred her water with her straw, her expression contemplative. “I didn’t either, not at first. I thought I could handle it. But looking back... I was just running from how I felt.” She glanced up at Azzi, her eyes soft. “You know what I mean?”

Azzi nodded slowly. “Yes actually. When I tore my ACL, I thought my career was over. I didn’t want to get out of bed, let alone go to rehab. My parents practically had to drag me out of the house some days and force me to shower. I felt like I’d never be the same player again, like I let everyone down. It was... dark for a while.”

Paige leaned forward to let Azzi know she was listening. “How did you get through it?”

Azzi shrugged. “Time, mostly. And people not giving up on me, even when I gave up on myself. But it’s still hard, you know? Some days, it still feels like the world’s too heavy to carry.”

Paige nodded, her gaze steady on Azzi. “Yeah. I get that.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, the kind where neither of them felt the need to fill the space. Paige finally broke it with a soft laugh. “You’re really easy to talk to, you know that?”

Azzi smiled, her eyes warm. “So are you.”

As they sat there, the hum of the diner around them, Paige felt a strange sense of peace settle over her.

The conversation deepened as they sat in the quiet corner of the diner, their voices low but steady. Paige found herself opening up about things she hadn’t thought about in years, things she’d never told anyone else—her childhood, her family, the moments that shaped her love for basketball. Azzi listened intently, chiming in with her own stories. They talked for hours and didn’t even notice.

“You were a troublemaker as a kid, huh?” Paige teased, leaning back in the booth.

Azzi grinned. “Not trouble, exactly. I just had... energy. My mom says I never sat still, which is probably why sports were the only thing that worked for me.”

Paige smirked. “Explains a lot.”

Azzi nudged her foot under the table. “And you? Let me guess—perfect student, teacher’s pet, MVP of the kickball team?”

Paige chuckled. “Something like that. I always wanted to be the best at everything, even if it didn’t matter. Like, who cares if you’re the fastest at spelling quizzes?”

“Apparently you did,” Azzi teased, her smile softening. “That competitive streak must’ve made you fun to grow up with.”

Paige shrugged, her tone turning reflective. “It was a lot of pressure, though. Some of it I put on myself, but a lot came from... expectations. Like, if I wasn’t the best, what was the point?”

Azzi nodded in understanding. “I get that. I think that’s why I struggled so much after my injury. For so long, basketball was who I was. When I couldn’t play, it felt like I didn’t know myself anymore. I didn’t know what to do day in and day out.”

Paige reached across the table, her fingers brushing Azzi’s hand briefly before she pulled back. “I’m really glad you didn’t give up.”

Azzi’s eyes softened. “Me too.”

Their waiter approached, setting down Azzi’s dessert—a large slice of chocolate cake with a swirl of whipped cream on top. Paige shook her head, laughing softly. “Of course you’d order that.”

Azzi picked up her fork with a grin. “What can I say? I’m predictable.” She took a bite, humming in satisfaction before holding a forkful out toward Paige. “Here, try it.”

Paige wrinkled her nose. “You’re always trying to get me to eat sugar.”

“Because it’s not as fun when I have to eat it by myself,” Azzi shot back, waving the fork in front of her. “C’mon, just one bite. It’s really good.”

Paige sighed dramatically but leaned forward, letting Azzi feed her the bite of cake. She chewed, her face carefully neutral before finally swallowing. “Okay, fine. It’s good.”

Azzi smirked, leaning back triumphantly. “Told you.”

When the check came, Paige didn’t give Azzi a chance to reach for her wallet. She slid her card into the leather folder and handed it to the waiter without a word.

Azzi arched a brow. “You never even let me try to pay for anything.”

Paige shrugged, standing up and grabbing her coat. “You’ll get the next one.”

“Next one?” Azzi echoed, a teasing lilt in her voice.

Paige glanced over her shoulder. “Unless this is the last road trip we ever take together?”

Azzi shook her head, laughing as they headed back to the car. The air outside was crisp, but Paige felt warm, the lingering glow of their conversation following her as she slid into the driver’s seat.

Azzi settled in beside her, glancing over as Paige started the engine. “You know,” she said softly, “I like this.”

Paige glanced at her. “What?”

“This,” Azzi said, gesturing between them. “Whatever this is. Us just... being.”

Paige smiled, her heart full in a way she couldn’t quite put into words. “Yeah. Me too.”

…

By the time they pulled into the parking lot in Connecticut, the car was silent except for the low hum of the engine. Azzi was sound asleep, her head resting gently against the window, her breaths slow and even. Paige turned off the car and let herself sit for a moment, her eyes drifting over to Azzi. She took in the way the soft moonlight highlighted her features, her peaceful expression making Paige’s chest tighten.

Paige smiled to herself, leaning back in her seat. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered under her breath, the words barely audible.

Reaching out, Paige gently ran her hand down the side of Azzi’s face, her fingers brushing her cheek lightly. The touch caused Azzi to stir, her brows furrowing as she slowly blinked awake.

“Hey,” Paige said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “We’re back.”

Azzi stretched slightly, her movements sluggish as she tried to wake herself up. Eventually Paige stepped out of the car, walking around to Azzi’s door. She opened it, leaning in with a teasing smile. “Come on before I carry you.”

Azzi snorted, her voice still thick with sleep. “Paige, you can’t carry me.”

Paige scoffed, a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes. “Oh, really?”

Before Azzi could protest, Paige slid one arm under her legs and the other behind her back, lifting her out of the car with surprising ease. Azzi squealed, grabbing onto Paige’s shoulders. “Put me down!” she yelped, her voice pitching higher than usual.

Paige grinned, clearly enjoying herself. “What’s wrong? I thought you said I couldn’t carry you.”

“Paige, your knee!” Azzi scolded, trying to sound serious but failing as laughter bubbled out. “You just got cleared to play again—don’t go ruining it!”

Paige hummed in thought at the mention of being cleared to play. “Hmm...”

“No,” Azzi interrupted, narrowing her eyes even as she laughed.

“Pleaseee?” Paige said, dragging the word out dramatically, her smile widening as she put Azzi down gently onto the pavement.

Azzi groaned, but there was no real annoyance in it. “You’re literally insane,” she muttered, already knowing where this was heading.

“Come on Az please,” Paige pressed, her tone playful but pleading.

Azzi sighed, finally relenting. “Fine,” she said, shaking her head. “But you’re getting my shoes.”

Paige’s face lit up like she’d won a championship. “Deal!”

Azzi chuckled, turning back toward the car to get back in the passenger seat. “You’re lucky I’m too tired to fight you on this.”

Paige didn’t respond, already jogging toward the suite with a bounce in her step. “I’ll be right back!” she called over her shoulder.

Azzi shook her head, smiling despite herself. “She’s gonna be the death of me,” she muttered, getting back in the car as Paige ran inside to grab their basketball shoes, her energy contagious even in the middle of the night.

…

If Azzi didn’t know any better, she’d think Paige was on something. The blonde had been in the gym for hours, bouncing off the walls with energy, clearly ecstatic to be freely shooting a basketball again—even if she wasn’t cleared for contact.

Azzi, on the other hand, was drained. She’d given up about thirty minutes ago, peeling off her basketball shoes and resigning herself to sitting on the floor, watching Paige’s every move. She leaned back on her hands, her chest rising and falling steadily as she caught her breath. Her eyes following Paige darting around the court, making shot after shot, her smile brighter than the overhead light they had turned on.

Eventually, Paige bounded over to her and, without warning, dramatically sprawled across Azzi’s lap, her sweaty body pressing against Azzi’s.

Azzi groaned, trying for annoyance but failing as her lips curved into a small smile. “Ew, Paige, you’re sweaty.” She didn’t, however, make any effort to push her off.

Paige grinned up at her, clearly unbothered. “Alright, I think I’m done.”

Azzi raised an eyebrow, feigning shock. “Oh wow, it only took three hours. Truly a miracle.”

Paige laughed softly, her smile warm and unguarded as she looked up at Azzi. Something in her expression softened, and for a moment, the only sound was their steady breathing.

Azzi hesitated, her chest tightening as she gazed down at Paige. She reached out instinctively, brushing a strand of sweaty hair out of Paige’s face. Her fingers lingered for a second before she spoke, her voice quiet and a little shaky. “I really love your eyes.”

Paige blinked as her cheeks flushed faintly as her grin softened into something more genuine. “I love your smile,” she murmured, her voice steady but low, like it was meant just for Azzi.

They stared at each other for a long moment, the air between them hung with unspoken emotions. Paige’s expression was completely open, her gaze searching Azzi’s as if she were trying to commit every detail of her face to memory.

The closeness sent Azzi’s heart racing, the feeling so intense it almost overwhelmed her. So she quickly pushed Paige off her lap and stood up, clearing her throat. “Come on,” she said, trying to mask the flustered edge in her voice.

Paige smiled to herself as she got up and followed Azzi. But instead of heading toward the gym’s front doors and her car, she grabbed Azzi’s hand, intertwining their fingers and tugging her in the opposite direction.

Azzi groaned lightly, though she didn’t pull away. “Where are we going now, Paige?”

Paige glanced back, her grin teasing.

“We’re gonna watch the sunrise.”

Azzi stopped complaining immediately, her curiosity piqued as Paige led her to the elevator.

When they reached the rooftop, the early morning air hit them, but Azzi immediately vetoed going outside. “No you’re gonna get us sick,” she scolded. “We’re sweaty, and it’s freezing.”

Paige laughed but didn’t argue, following Azzi to a spot by the glass windows that offered a perfect view of the sky. They sat down side by side, the first light of dawn spilling through the panes and casting a soft glow over them.

Azzi rested her head on Paige’s shoulder, her body relaxing into the blonde. She reached for Paige’s hand, her fingers lightly playing with Paige’s in an absentminded gesture that felt far more intimate than either of them acknowledged.

They watched in silence as the sky gradually brightened, the world slowly coming alive with shades of pink, purple, and gold.

Paige turned her head slightly, resting her cheek against Azzi’s hair. “Thanks for coming with me today,” she said softly, her voice low and sincere.

Azzi tilted her head up to meet Paige’s gaze, her lips curving into a small smile. “Always.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence, letting the moment stretch until the sun fully broke the horizon, casting its warm light over them.

Eventually, as the last traces of night faded and the sun rose higher into the sky, Paige sighed and stretched. “Well, I guess we should go finally get some sleep.”

Azzi agreed, lifting her head off Paige’s shoulder and standing up. Paige followed suit, and the two of them walked back toward the elevator, hands still lingering together.

Once they were back in the car, the drive to Paige’s dorm was quiet, the peacefulness of the morning lingering between them. By the time they arrived, the exhaustion from their trip hit them all at once.

They both took quick showers, Azzi finding herself some clothes in Paige’s drawer while Paige showered.

Paige slumped onto her bed, pulling the covers up. Azzi followed suit, crawling under the blankets next to her.

As the lights went off, the silence of the room filled with the soft sounds of their breathing. Despite the exhaustion, neither of them wanted to drift off just yet. They exchanged a glance, a small smile shared between them, as they settled into the warmth of the bed.

"Goodnight, Az," Paige whispered, her voice gentle but filled with something deeper, something unspoken.

Azzi smiled softly, closing her eyes. "Goodnight, Paige."

…

A week or so later, Paige was sitting in the training room, her legs stretched out on the bench as she scrolled through her phone. Her lips curled into a smile, her eyes lighting up as she read whatever was on her screen.

Evina, who was seated across from her, noticed immediately and let out a laugh. “What’s got you all smiley over there?”

Paige glanced up, caught off guard but unable to wipe the grin off her face. “It’s nothing,” she said, her tone too casual to be convincing. She glanced back at her phone before quickly adding, “Azzi just sent me something. She’s on her way now.”

Evina raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. She’d been waiting for an opening like this. “Speaking of Azzi, what’s going on with you two?”

Paige froze, her fingers halting mid-scroll. “What do you mean?” she asked, feigning ignorance, but the blush creeping up her cheeks betrayed her.

Evina leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as she gave Paige a knowing look. “Come on, Paige. You two are pretty close now. Like, real close.”

Paige let out a nervous laugh, shaking her head. “Nah, she’s just like... my best friend now,” she said, her voice a little too quick and defensive.

Evina wasn’t buying it. She tilted her head, her expression skeptical. “Paige, be fucking for real,” she said, her tone teasing but firm.

Before Paige could respond, the door to the training room opened, and Azzi walked in. She headed straight for Paige without hesitation, a warm smile on her face as she leaned down to wrap her arms around the blonde in a quick but affectionate hug.

Paige blushed even deeper under Evina’s gaze, her hands lingering a second too long on Azzi’s back before she pulled away.

Evina smirked, leaning back in her seat with her arms crossed. “Wow,” she said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “No love for Mama E?”

Azzi laughed, the sound light and unbothered, as she turned to Evina. “Alright, alright,” she said, walking over to give her a quick side hug. “You happy now?”

Evina shook her head with a grin, glancing pointedly between the two of them. “Oh, I’m very happy. This is way better than anything I could’ve imagined.”

Paige groaned, burying her face in her hands, while Azzi, not really knowing the context, just chuckled and perched herself on the bench next to her.

Evina wasn’t about to let up, but Paige shot her a pleading look, mouthing, Don’t. Evina raised her hands in mock surrender, but the mischievous twinkle in her eye promised this conversation wasn’t over.

[iseos]

SHE LOVES ME NOT

─── sim jaeyun x f!reader s. not saying “i love you” back 1130 words g. fluff | © iseos library

you had been scrolling on tiktok when you came across a video that made you laugh out loud. it was one of those harmless pranks: not saying "i love you" back to your boyfriend just to see how long he could go without getting upset. the boyfriend's confused reaction was too funny, and you couldn't help but grin at the thought of trying it on jake. after all, he loved saying "i love you," and he always expected to hear it in return.

the prank started innocently enough. that morning, as jake left the bedroom, turned and said "i love you," with a casual smile. however, you didn't answer, pretending to be engrossed in your phone.

you felt a tiny pang of guilt as he paused, waiting for your words. but when you didn't respond, you could see his shoulders slumped a little as he eventually walked out.

throughout the rest of the day, she continued. jake would say "i love you" in his usual affectionate way, and you would ignore him. sometimes you'd mutter something else, sometimes you'd stay silent. he'd give you a questioning glance, but you kept your face neutral, avoiding his eye contact.

at one point, he tried to catch you off guard by saying it when you were cooking, his voice light and playful. "i love you."

you stirred the pot without looking up, "mhmm."

jake blinked, his lips pressing into a thin line. you could feel his gaze burning into your back, but you refused to break. you had to keep going.

you could feel him watching you, a subtle sadness setting in. every time you ignored him, he seemed to get a little quieter, a little more distant. it was working, you had to admit, it was kind of adorable how much it seemed to affect him. but quickly, it began to feel...wrong. the last thing you wanted was for him to feel hurt or unloved. you found yourself distancing yourself from him just a bit, trying not to be in his presence too much, but if you looked into his eyes for too long, you knew you'd cave.

so, when jake told you he was heading to the corner store to buy more snacks, you gladly welcomed the space.

"okay, ill be here!" you said with a forced cheerfulness, glad for the temporary break from the prank.

jake nodded, "ill be right back." then, as he reached the door, he turned and said it again, a little quieter this time, "i love you."

you didn't even look up from your phone. "mhmm."

you heard the familiar sound of the door opening, but his footsteps abruptly stopped. you glanced up, slightly startled. jake was still standing in the doorway, his hand on the door handle. his back was to you, but he wasn't moving.

you felt a rush of guilt and couldn't help but smile to yourself.

"don't keep the door open, you're letting cold air inside," you said, trying to sound casual as if it was nothing unusual. jake didn't reply, his silence louder than anything. you sat there, biting the inside of you cheek to stifle the laughter threatening to escape. hidden by the back of the couch, you covered you mouth, trying your best to keep from laughing out loud.

without saying anything else, jake pulled the door closed and left. when you heard his footsteps getting farther away, you couldn't hold it in any longer.

when he returned, he was carrying multiple filled bags of snacks—way more than they needed. he dropped them onto the kitchen counter, his expression slightly sour. you glanced at him from the couch, your heart racing, but you stuck to your plan.

"got your favorites," he muttered, almost as if he was talking to himself. but still, no "i love you."

the evening went on, and when it was finally time to go to sleep, you finished getting ready first and got into bed first, trying not to look guilty. you had spent the day dodging his glances and avoiding too much physical closeness; you didn't want to break, you didn't want the prank to end too early.

jake climbed into bed after you, his body feeling a little heavier than usual. he rested his bed on your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist, still silent sulking.

you were trying so hard not to laugh. he was so cute when he was upset, but you couldn't let him know the truth just yet. you tried to focus on the tv, but you could feel him sighing dramatically against you. the deep sighs, each one louder and more exaggerated than the last, were obviously intended to get your attention.

after a few more, your resolve started to crumble. you couldn't help but lightly pat his back, though you were desperately trying not to laugh.

jake sighed again, this time practically groaning as he moved so his whole body was laying on top of you, obviously expecting a response.

trying your hardest not to crack, you barely managed to keep a straight face, "what's wrong?" you asked, your voice soft but far from serious.

"did i do something wrong? are you mad at me? because if i did, please just tell me," he whined as his arms tightened around you.

you shoulders shook as you tried not to laugh. his voice was so sincere, and his little sighs were so exaggerated, that you couldn't hold it in anymore. finally, you let out a burst of laughter.

jake lifted his head from your shoulder to blink at you with a confused frown. he briefly glanced at the tv but it didn't show anything to warrant this type of laughter from you, "what? what's so funny?"

you struggled to get the words out through your laughter. "it was just a prank!" you managed to say between fits of giggles, "i was messing with you. i didn't mean to make you so upset, i just thought it'd be funny."

jake's face dropped, "you—what? i thought i did something wrong!" his face went slack for a moment before he groaned. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and pulled him flush against you again as you continued to laugh. he dropped his head back to your shoulder with a groan. his arms tightened around you even more, squeezing you in a way that was almost too tight.

"never do that to me again," he muttered into your shirt, his voice muffled but sincere. you couldn't help yourself, laughing even harder.

"i'm sorry! i didn't mean to make you so upset, but—your reaction was so funny! i promise i won't do it again," but even as you said that, you knew deep down, you definitely would.

[gold-onthe-inside]

new year's resolution

who? spencer reid (s8) x blake!reader summary: the end of the year brings your life in perspective, the trajectory of your life inverse to the champagne you drink. the morning after, spencer brings you around to the idea that when one door closes, another opens. word count: 4k (i got carried away) content warnings: drinking, broken engagement, implied relationship with maeve (alternate ending where she doesn't die), r's ex-fiance cheating on her, kissing but no sex, r's mom implied to have passed away a/n: wrote this in like a day and a half to get it ready for the first of jan. set before wrong person... and smells like infidelity, but can be read as a standalone. only context needed is that reader is blake's goddaughter and was set up with spencer. god knows when i'll get around to writing that fic. enjoy and have a happy new year xx

You had been good the last couple months, trying to rebuild your life in D.C., but with the year coming to an end, you can't help the pang of disappointment. This wasn't where you were supposed to be, a year into your 30s. You were supposed to be engaged, your phone pinging with scheduled appointments with florists and hair and makeup artists and bridal stores. Instead, you had been sipping champagne at your godmother's colleague's New Year's Eve party, trying to avoid a certain tall brunet who had the ability to read you all too well.

You've lost track of how many drinks you've had, as well as your godmother, all you know is that someone holds your hair back as you puke and rubs your back in a way that painfully reminds you of your mom and brings pinpricks of tears on your eyes. The last thing you remember is nodding when he asks if he can take you home.

And so, you start the new year in a bed that's not your own, wearing clothes that are not your size at all, sprawled in a queen sized bed, alone. Well done, really, you thought, rubbing your face and rolling over to check the time with a yawn. You can hear the water from the shower running, and you hope you can just grab your clothes and make a run for home before he steps out - but Spencer's nothing if not efficient with his water usage.

He stepped out, in a gray t-shirt and plaid sweatpants, the ends of his hair dampening the top of his shirt, and stood in the doorway as you fumbled with your boots, still wearing one of his shirts so you wouldn't have to wear the shimmery black top you had been wearing last night. "You're awake," he said, putting his towel away, not moving from the door.

Your hands stilled and your eyes shut as you cringed at being caught. You're so bad at this, you thought to yourself. Spencer pushed himself off the doorway, and walked further into the bedroom. "Where are you going?"

"Home," you say, pulling up the zipper on your boot and standing up, steadily, and he moved instinctively to brace you so you wouldn't fall, hands on your arms, his touch warm and leaving you with a different kind of buzz from last night, and you pulled away. No attachments, you reminded yourself in your head. "Look, I-I'm sorry," you started, "Whatever happened last night--"

"What happened last night was that you were too drunk to go home alone, I brought you here, let you change and sleep, and I took the couch," Spencer said, keeping his voice neutral and watching your expression change.

"Oh." You're not entirely sure why you're disappointed at that news. "Uh, okay, then- then I'll just-"  You went to move past him, aiming for the door, but he grabbed your arm before you could get very far.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." He said, his hand gently guiding you to sit back on the bed. "You're in no condition to walk home, your head must be spinning."

"I can't stay here," you murmured, your head starting to hurt at the excessive movements.

Spencer's hands were on your shoulders now, keeping you sitting down on the edge of the bed. "You're not going anywhere until you've at least drank some water and eaten something. Your blood sugar and your blood alcohol level are both probably pretty low right now."

You wanted to protest, you wanted to get out of here, starting to feel like a kidnapped baby deer, unable to walk, dependent on Spencer.

Spencer gave your shoulders a little squeeze, silently commanding you to stay put. "I'll go get you some water and pain killers. Stay here, alright?"

"Not like I have much of a choice in that," you murmured under your breath.

The corner of Spencer's mouth lifted in a hint of a smile. He walked out of the room, and a few minutes later, returned with an unopened bottle of water, two aspirin, and a package of saltines. "Here." He said, passing you the pills and then opening the bottle of water for you before grabbing the crackers and pushing both of them in your hands. "Take the pills, and eat some of those, you'll feel better."

You followed his orders, unable to help wondering if this was what life with Spencer would look like - museum and coffee dates, nagging you to drink more water, making sure you take your medication on time, doctor's appointments and grocery shopping together - and suddenly you're crying, holding the stupid crackers in your hand, fat tears welling up as your chest tightens, thinking about the life you should have had.

Spencer's head tilted, his eyes widening as you started to cry. His arms reached out to you, his hands tentative. He wasn't exactly sure what to do. "Hey...hey, hey, hey," he cooed, pulling you into his arms. "Why are you crying?" He pulled you into his lap, his hand rubbing your back. His touch was gentle, and he said nothing, just let you cry into his chest. This wasn't how the New Year was supposed to go, but you miss your mom, and your ex-fiance, even after everything, and you feel like such a complete mess.

Spencer's fingers gently carded through your hair, as his free hand continued to rub your back. He whispered soothing sounds into your ear, and rocked you back and forth gently. He didn't mind that your tears were starting to soak his t-shirt, he just held you tighter and let you sob. It was awful and embarrassing and you have to get out of here.

Spencer could sense the change in you. Your breathing became more shallow, your muscles tensed up under his hands. He pulled away to look at you but kept one arm around you. "What's going on?" He asked, his voice soft, and his eyes searching your face. "Why are you trying to leave so badly?"

"I can't be here," you managed, extracting yourself from his arms. "You're nice and I'm a mess and I just..."

"Hey, hey," he said, his hand darting out to grab yours as you tried to stand. He tugged your hand, hard enough to cause you to stumble and fall back on the bed right next to him. He moved so he was sitting facing you. "You're allowed to be a mess," he said, his voice firm but gentle. "Everybody is allowed to be a mess sometimes."

"You shouldn't have to deal with this," you murmured.

"Who said I have to?" He asked, his eyes meeting yours, his hand still gripping yours. "Who said I don't want to deal with it?"

"Are you insane?" you ask, the question slipping out of your mouth before you could think. "Why on earth would you want to deal with my crap?"

Spencer chuckled, his free hand coming up to brush some hair out of your face. His eyes were sparkling, but the look on his face was serious. "I think the real question is why wouldn't I?" He said, his thumb rubbing against the back of your hand.

"Because we met like a month ago on a date neither of us wanted to be on," you said.

"Yeah, but... we had a good time." He said, a crooked smile on his face. "And besides, you're a smart, attractive woman. I think you're worth dealing with a little crap every now and then."

"Trust me, nothing about this is little," you said with a groan, the tears making your headache worse.

Spencer's eyes studied your face, his hand came up to gently thumb away a tear that was slowly rolling down your face. "How about this, we deal with the crap one step at a time. Step one: let yourself be helped," he said. "Stay here, sleep off the rest of your hangover, and let me take care of you a little bit. Okay?"

"I can't ask you to do that," you said weakly.

"Why not?" He said, his hand still on your face. "You need help. I'm offering to help. Why do you have such a hard time letting yourself accept help when it's offered?"

"Because... You might expect something to come out of it," you said. Or I might.

Spencer's brows furrowed together as he heard what you said. "Is that... is that why you're so hell bent on leaving? You think I'm gonna, what - expect something in return if I help you or let you vent to me?"

You swallowed. "I told you when we first went out that... I only did it to get Alex off my back, and I wasn't ready to jump into something."

He nodded slowly, his thumb coming up to brush another tear from your cheek. "I know," he said slowly. "And I agreed, I wasn't looking for anything serious. But... are you worried that I'm going to start demanding something serious?"

"Not demanding, that makes you sound awful," you murmured, because he was anything other than awful.

He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "So you're worried that I'm expecting a relationship," he said. "Or that I'm not going to be able to keep myself from wanting a relationship. Is that it?"

You nodded slowly, looking at him, gauging his reaction. Spencer's smile was bigger now, his fingers tilting your head up so you had to make eye contact with him. The look in his eyes was gentle, but there was something else there, too. Something wanting. "And if I told you that... I do want a relationship? What would you say to that?"

"That I'm not ready for it," you said softly. "Even if I wanted to, I just... can't."

"What if I said I was willing to wait then?" he said, his hand brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "What if I told you that I would wait as long as you need to be ready for it?"

"It's unfair to you," you whispered.

His hand was on your face again, thumb tracing soft patterns on your cheek. "Yeah," he admitted, quietly. "It kind of is. But I still want to do it. I want to wait for you. I want to take care of you. If you'll let me."

"Spencer..." you said softly, just to say his name more than anything else.

His eyes darkened for a moment, hearing you say his name making something warm spread through his chest. His other hand moved to brush a loose strand of hair from your eyes. "Just..." he swallowed, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Please say you'll let me take care of you."

"I can't do that to you, please," you said, tears welling up again.

His hand gripped your chin, and his eyes were earnest, desperate even. "Why not?" He asked, sounding more frustrated than he looked. "Why won't you let me take care of you? Is it because of your ex?"

You swallowed, nodding thickly.

A muscle in his jaw ticked and he inhaled deeply through his nose. "I'm not him," he said, his voice low and intense, the look in his eyes almost fierce with determination. "I would never do to you what he did to you. I would never lie or cheat or just... just leave you like he did."

"I know," you said softly.

His thumb moved over your bottom lip, a touch so soft it almost felt like a whisper. "Then why is it so hard for you to believe that I'll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready?"

"Trust me, I believe it," you murmured. "That's the problem."

"What, you think I can't handle waiting for you?" he said. His hand still holding your chin, he tugged you a little closer so there was barely any space between your bodies.

You shook your head. "I think I'm going to give in before I'm ready," you murmured, desperately wanting to kiss him.

His breath fanned over your face, leaving you feeling almost lightheaded. "Would that be such a bad thing?" he asked, his voice low and quiet.

"I don't want this to be a mistake," you whisper, ghosting his lips.

His hands found your hips, pulling you even closer, your bodies now flush against each other. A strangled sound escaped from his throat as your breath hit his lips, his eyes still closed. "It won't be," he promised.

You knew in that moment that it had to be you, that he would never initiate anything until you did, that he really would wait, and you didn't want to wait anymore. Your lips settled on his, closing the miniscule gap between the two of you, his lips as soft as you'd imagined.

He inhaled sharply, but leaned forward to press his lips firmly against yours. One of his hands moved to bury in your hair, the other gripped your hip, holding you tightly against his chest. His tongue licked at the crease between your lips, as if asking for permission, for entry.

"Morning breath," you murmured in protest, parting your lips anyway.

He chuckled lowly against your lips, his tongue gently sweeping into your mouth as he pressed you back on the bed. "Like I care."

It had been so long since you had been wanted like this, so wholly, so unequivocally, his hand splayed along your side, under the shirt he had let you borrow. A shiver went down your spine as his hand moved under the shirt you were wearing. He made a soft, guttural sound as his hand met bare skin, his lips moving to your jaw. "Can't believe you were trying to leave me," he mumbled, his words almost lost against your skin.

"You make it impossible," you murmured, hand sliding along his neck.

He chuckled, his lips moving over your jaw, pausing periodically to press kisses into your skin. The hand that was under your shirt moved up higher, running along the side of your chest, and he hummed into your skin. "I'm serious," he said, his hands and lips still roaming over your neck. "If you ever think about trying to leave again, just... remember this. Remember me."

"I couldn't forget you if I tried," you murmured, nudging him back up to kiss him. He complied instantly, his tongue sliding along your lower lip as he captured your mouth again. He leaned further onto you, his body pressing you down into the mattress, his hands continuing their journey over your skin.

His hands slid further up your sides, his touch feather-light and yet leaving a burning trail in its wake. He groaned softly against your mouth, the sound sending a shiver tumbling down your spine. If there had been a line, Spencer had erased it completely with each trace of his touch. As scary as it felt, you'd let him do whatever he wanted to you.

He was desperate for you, the need and want for you making itself blatantly obvious, his body pressed taut to yours, his kiss deep and intense. His hands found your hips, gripping them and pulling you against him. He pulled away from your lips so he could gasp for air, resting his forehead against yours.

You swallowed, trying to catch your breath. "How are you so good at this and still single?" you can't help but ask.

His breath huffed hot against your face as he laughed, a small, crooked smile gracing his features. "I could ask you the same thing," he said. One of his hands moved to brush your hair from your face, and you watched as his gaze roamed over your features, like he was trying to memorize every single detail.

You bit your lower lip, looking at him, your affection unhidden. "Seriously, Spence," you said. "You never told me what happened with your ex."

His hand stilled for a moment, and he looked away from you for a second, breaking the eye contact. The air changed slightly, the atmosphere tensing a little. He was silent for a few moments, and you could see him sorting out his thoughts before he spoke.

"It..." he exhaled slowly before looking back at you again. "It ended badly," he said, quietly. "She um... She was being stalked," he said slowly as you sat up, listening. "And that was sort of how we met. And we... we started seeing each other after but... I found out she had been engaged to someone else all along."

You couldn't help the sharp intake of breath you took. Even having been through a bad relationship yourself, that seemed shockingly cruel. You laid your hand gently on Spencer's shoulder, silently encouraging him to keep going. He inhaled deeply, his eyes meeting yours, looking at you like he was trying to decipher if he could keep going. Your eyes were wide and earnest as you regarded him, your hand still on his shoulder, and he swallowed hard.

"I really liked her," he said, finally, still speaking quietly. "Maybe even loved her. She... she was my first everything."

"That's awful," you murmured.

He nodded, swallowing thickly as he continued. "Yeah," he said. "I found out that she was engaged and everything just... came tumbling down after that. I had already fallen hard for her, and it just hurt so much. I..." he trailed off, his eyes dropping, not meeting your gaze. "I'm not sure what hurt more, the fact that she was engaged, or the fact that she didn't even care about me like I did her."

"Christ," you breathed out loud, wishing you knew what to say to comfort him.

He swallowed again, looking down at his hands. "It's fine," he said after a moment. "I'm over it now. It took me a while, but I'm good now." He still wasn't looking at you, and you could see him clenching his jaw, like he was trying to force himself not to show any emotions.

You took his hands. "Well, for what it's worth, my ex-fiance cheated on me at our engagement party, so... that is definitely over."

He looked up, his eyes widening at your words. He'd known your fiance had cheated, but not like this. His hands tightened around your own instantly, his thumbs brushing softly over the back of your hands. "He... what?" he asked, shocked.

"Yeah," you said softly, tracing the ridge of his hand, fixed on it to ground yourself. "Four years flushed down the drain just like that."

His expression turned to one of sympathy, his eyes suddenly so soft and gentle. He gently pulled your hands into his lap, turning them so he could interlace his fingers through your own. "I can't even imagine how that must have felt," he said quietly. "Four years... that's a long time."

"I know. An entire presidential term," you said dryly.

His lips quirked into a half-smile, a small huff of laughter escaping him as he looked down at your hands, still gripped tightly in his own. He was silent for a moment, before looking back up at you. "What did you do? After he did that, I mean," he asked, quietly.

You let out a breath. "I um... I just left. Alex said I could stay with her, so I moved to DC."

He nodded slowly, letting out a breath of his own. He squeezed your hands in his own, his brow furrowing slightly. "Does he..." his voice trailed off for a moment, like he was unsure whether or not to continue the question. "Does he try to contact you? Or anything like that?"

You shook your head. "Not since Alex said she'd find a way to bury him six feet deep if he did."

Spencer's mouth twitched into a small half-smile at the image that conjures in his head. "Good," he said firmly. "As she should." He was quiet for a minute, his fingers tracing over your knuckles as he stared down at your hands.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, the pounding in your head fading away as you curled into him. He felt a small wave of relief wash over him as you leaned on his shoulder, his arm lifting to rest around you as he pulled you a little closer. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling deeply.

You raised his hand to your lips, kissing his knuckles, lingering. He swallowed hard, his other hand moving to gently rest on your bare knee. His eyes fluttered shut for a moment as you pressed your lips to his knuckles, the soft contact sending sparks across his skin. He was silent for several moments, his breath coming in soft huffs that you could feel against your hair.

"So what do we do now?" you asked softly.

He was quiet, contemplative, his chin moving to rest on your head. He pulled you against him so you were tucked into his side, his hand tracing slow patterns over your knee.

"You're not leaving, right?" he asked, suddenly. His voice was low but there was a slight edge to it, as if he worried that you still weren't going to stick around.

"I think you've made it clear that you don't want me to," you said.

He hummed in conformation, a small, crooked smile appearing on his face. "I don't want you to," he echoed back to you.

His hand moved from your knee to your hip, squeezing gently before he continued. "I need you to say that you're staying. Out loud."

"I'm staying," you murmured.

He exhaled as your words met his ears. The tension that was still in his body slowly leached out as he listened to your voice, the hand on your hip tightening as he heard confirmation that you were staying with him.

"Good," he said quietly, his breath coming out in a soft huff. "That's very good."

"But I have a condition," you added.

His expression was one of concern as he looked down at you for a moment, one eyebrow raised in slight surprise.

"What condition?" he asked.

"Breakfast."

He huffed out a small laugh at that one, his shoulders relaxing once again. "Breakfast?"

He was smiling slightly now, looking down at you with a look of amusement in his eyes.

"What? It's almost 9:30, I need to eat at some point."

"No, no, I'm not disputing it." he told you, his hand moving from your hip to brush the hair from your face again. "Breakfast is good. I'm just surprised that that's your only condition."

"Believe it or not, I'm not that demanding," you said.

"A shock, but one I've now learned," he teased. He was still smiling, his hand still brushing your hair away from your face. "Anything more specific that you'd like for breakfast?" he asked, the amused tint to his voice still present.

"Depends. What's in your repertoire?"

He was silent for a moment as he considered this. He looked thoughtful, and you could almost see him sifting through memories of various breakfasts he had made.

"I can do eggs," he said. "Fried, scrambled, or omelet. And bacon. And toast. And pancakes. And waffles."

"Waffles," you said immediately.

He chuckled slightly at the eagerness in your voice, his smile growing. "Waffles," he repeated. "Okay. You got it." His hands left you so he could stand, stretching his long limbs as he did so. "You should probably go shower while I make breakfast," he said, as he turned to look you sprawled on the bed again.

You nodded, rifling through your hair. He took the opportunity to look at you, just taking the time to appreciate the fact that you were actually here in front of him, in his apartment, in his clothes. His eyes roved over your form, and one corner of his mouth quirked up in a smile.

"You should probably stop staring," you told him as you sat up.

He blinked as he shook himself from his thoughts, a small pink tinge appearing on his cheeks.

"Right. Yeah, um..." he said, looking away for a moment. He cleared his throat as he turned and started out of the room. "I'll, um... just go make breakfast then," he mumbled.

You watched him go, a small smile of your own on your face, starting to feel a lot more resolved than you had felt in the last few months. New year, new start, you think to yourself, stealing one of his fluffy towels for yourself.

[thefandomenchantress]

General Thoughts About Eden's Garden

I have, at long last, finished chapter one of Eden's Garden. And I really liked it! While it wasn't perfect, I still really enjoyed playing it and am very glad I got to experience it. Since I wasn't around for the Another fangames, this is the first time I've been able to keep up with a project like this as it's coming out, and it's been really cool.

So, without further ado, let's get started! Project Eden's Garden spoilers below. :)

I'll start with my criticisms, since I don't have a lot of them. Honestly, my biggest complaint has to be the technical issues I faced while trying to play this game instead of watching it. But I'm not going to sit here and pretend making a game is easy by any means, so I don't really hold that against the game, even if it was frustrating.

Plus, I'm an idiot. I sat for like half an hour trying to figure out the Non-Stop debate controls and thinking my WASD thingy was malfunctioning and not letting me switch truth bullets, when there was only one truth bullet I was allowed to use at the time. I was just being stupid and not catching on when it only showed me one truth bullet in the corner, haha. The repeated crashing of my game, however, wasn't my fault. But I was able to get my hands on a work-in-progress low-spec version of the game that stopped most of the crashing and stuff! After that, most issues went away, except for after the trial ended and the after-trial dialog wouldn't pop up, leaving me on a black screen even after a restarted my computer and tried a few more times. But I'm not too unhappy about that, it's not like I was missing any riveting gameplay sections, haha. I could just watch the YouTube version of the execution and stuff.

Other than those technical difficulties on my end, there are only a few actual problems I had with the gameplay, haha. The first being that I am terrible at bullet hell-styled gameplay, apparently, and Argument Altercation kicked my ass in normal mode. I really wish there was a way to switch your difficulty on that, or maybe checkpoints, because after about thirty or more tries of not being able to get past stage three, I gave up and ended up just getting my hands on a save file from after the minigame. I may love videogames, but that does not mean I'm good at them, haha.

As for the actual writing, I don't have too many complaints...I suppose if I had to say something, though, it'd be that some of the characters felt like they didn't have enough to do this chapter. Ulysses is probably the main one I felt this applied to, even if I love him, he didn't give us too much this chapter, other than a lore drop during the pharmacy investigation (His limited screentime didn't stop me from growing attached to him, though haha). Other characters, despite getting a little more screentime, felt like they didn't really develop at all in the grand scheme of things. But I don't want to focus in on this too much, since it's only chapter one and most characters usually don't start having any big changes until a murder occurs. And the disproportional screentime may just be the writing style of Eden's Garden being that they focus on a certain group of characters each chapter, when they have the most relevance. Wenona, for example, feels like she's being set up to be a larger player down the line, even if she wasn't a super major character this chapter.

There was a lot more I liked about the chapter than disliked, though! All the characters really grew on me, for the most part. Well...Almost everyone. There is one character who I'm kinda meh on right now, since I'm not quite sure what they're going for yet. He's entertaining, I like him fine, but he's not quite on the same level as everyone else. And that character is:

Jett.

Honestly, I think the main reason I'm having trouble is just how he treats Toshiko.

Jett, why are you picking on a literal child??? What are you doing??? This wouldn't bother me if I knew an explanation for it that gives cool insight into his character, but as is I'm just kinda annoyed at him for it. Then again, I haven't bothered to experience any of his FTEs yet, so it's possible he gives some sort of explanation for his child-belittling ways there, haha.

The Mark and Jett thing was fine, I'm liking the set-up there. I think the only difference that makes me like the Jett and Mark stuff over the Jett and Toshiko stuff is that Damon actually calls Jett out for not respecting Mark's boundaries, meanwhile no one really reprimands him for belittling Toshiko because of her age. When he shares her blackmail, no one says "Hey, man, that wasn't very cool of you." They just shrug Toshiko's blackmail off and say no one should share anything else. Wolfgang even calls her blackmail a "joke". No wonder Toshiko is so desperate to be respected, everyone but Ingrid is so rude to her (I can forgive Grace, though, because the gremlin bit was the funniest thing in the prologue to me).

Of course, if they end up calling out his behavior towards her later, as well as everyone else's, I'll be happy and probably end up liking him more. His whole never taking off his helmet thing is pretty cool, I'm interested to see where that goes and to see any character development he has. And him and Cassidy's little friendship being established through gaming was fun.

...Writing all this out actually made me appreciate Jett a little more, since I don't think I would be able to say this much about some of the other characters...I mean if I felt something other than passive enjoyment maybe they’re doing something right…

Oh, right, there were other characters this chapter. Let's get onto them!

Damon was just as entertaining as last time, I'm excited to see what happens next with him. Him letting Diana defend herself made it seem like he was going to be more empathic to others and improve, but Eva betraying him might mean he starts trusting the others even less than before.

In daily life, Eva...Might've been my favorite. Don't get me wrong, Kai is still my favorite character overall, but I loved Eva in daily life so much. Her "Bweh..." and "Raaaage..." voicelines are some of my favorites in any fangan and I'm happy I experienced all her FTEs. I loved her in daily life, deadly life was...Still fine and good, the execution was super well-animated and cool. But her being the culprit did sort of undercut my enjoyment a little, since it sort of calls into question the truthfulness of certain aspects of her character that made me like her. Still really cool, though.

Kai was great. I'm going to make a post dedicated to him later, where I'm sure I'll ramble on and on for a while, so for now I'll keep it brief. He was just as funny as last time, surprisingly helpful in the class trial, his large amount of screentime was a pleasant surprise to me, I'm super excited to see if he'll be the new support, and his FTEs were really cool. I'm super hyped to ramble about everything concerning him later.

Ulysses, despite his limited screentime, managed to be pretty charming this time around. Him already telling backstory stuff to us makes me a little worried for if he'll die soon, but oh well. Him literally saying "um, actually" when he starts his objection was great. Toshiko calling him ugly in...the Prologue, I think(?), was blatantly incorrect because I really like his design. There's something about his color scheme that I enjoy, idk. Plus, owls are my favorite animal, so I was pretty much guaranteed to like his theming.

Diana being heavily suspected by the fanbase and then being suspected in-universe in the trial was cool, the whole "choose the culprit" minigame legitimately tricked me into thinking it was her for a hot minute...Until I remembered how much unused evidence we had, haha. Excited to see where she goes from here.

Wolfgang...Damn those sprites in the Diana flashback were cool. I should definitely check out his FTEs to get a little more context, but wow. While I'm not surprised he was the chapter one victim, I'm a little disappointed we'll never hear more from him.

Grace was great, her demeanor is kinda similar to another favorite character of mine, so I've become pretty endeared to her. I'm interested in seeing where the bunny symbolism goes, and how she'll react to Wolfgang being gone. She had no FTEs (her actually responding when I tried to enter her dorm (I was doing an experiment to see if I could enter anyone but Kai's and Damon's) jumpscared me haha), so I'm guessing she'll live a bit longer and receive some character development! Yay!

Wenona was fun, her attitude was as entertaining as ever. She's probably one of the characters I most want to go do the FTEs of, I'm interested to hear more about her.

Desmond and Eloise's friendship was fun, the scene where they try to get Grace to let them in Wolfgang's room was definitely the highlight of both their characters for me this chapter. Eloise standing up for herself during the confrontation and Desmond backing her up without hesitation was awesome. Can't wait to see their friendship expanded on (And Desmond being angsty during the closing argument was hilarious).

Toshiko and Jett already had most of my thoughts laid out above. Jett I've mostly finished describing, but I did like Ingrid and Toshiko's friendship this chapter. Toshiko's whole pretending-she's-totally-not-freaking-out-and-being-actively-traumatized thing was good, I liked how she was desperate to sound smart in the trials, it fits her character.

Mark was a little ruder than I thought he'd be going in, but I'm not complaining. While I don't think anything topped "Grace, call the fire brigade" this chapter, some things got pretty close, like his annoyed facial expression when you agree with him. Him not wanting to be acknowledged at all at the gaming tournament was interesting, I'm excited to see where they take his character.

Ingrid...Was fine. I'll be honest, I was a little disappointed at how my view of her failed to change at all this chapter. Even her blackmail was something we learned in the Prologue already. Still, I can appreciate her. Even if she didn't change much this chapter, I still like what she is right now. She's all-around pretty cool, and I like how she makes sure to defend Toshiko, unlike some characters I know. /j

(Her being called "reliable" made me immediately feel like she might not last long, though... :()

Jean is pretty interesting to me so far, Cassidy suggesting that he might just be posing as a 'pirate' was intriguing. Him saying there was an arcade on his ship made me think of a crack theory that he worked at a Chuckie Cheese type place, but instead of there being a strange mouse, you could hang around at his prop ship and take pictures with him and his "crewmates" (Co-workers or employees) in costume, with an arcade and snack bar nearby...His knowledge of machinery stuff is also cool. I should check out his FTEs.

Cassidy's whole gaming gimmick is cool, and I like her, but I think if I'm being honest, her fun design and awesome voice actor kinda carry her for me. I don't think she'd be one of my favorites to hear speak otherwise. Some of her voicelines are just hilarious by themselves, too, though ("I better zip up my fly, my genius is showing" was my favorite, like what the fuck that is so random and funny and she only uses it once). She's a character who I don't think I'd find nearly as funny if the vocal delivery wasn't as on point as it is, but seeing as it's totally awesome and on point I have nothing to complain about she’s really cool haha.

And those are all my general thoughts on each of the characters. Now onto a few individual moments I really liked!

I replayed the Prologue before playing through chapter 1, and something really cool I noticed was that when they're on the train, this happens after Cassidy says she smells something weird:

I thought it was really cool how they subtly foreshadowed his lack of a sense of smell like that! The devs really thought his character through from the beginning, I suppose.

But moving on to chapter 1, specifically the trial. One detail I really liked was this:

“Near the boiler room door, I discovered a thin piece of metal.”

“During the investigation, there was a strange smell permeating the boiler room. It took me a moment to notice, but when I did…”

Damon takes credit for both the scrap metal and the smell.

This happens very directly with the metal, where he says that he discovered it. While he does admit he didn't think the metal was important before, what he fails to do is give credit to Ulysses for pointing it out to him, since Damon didn't notice it until Ulysses did. And when Ulysses did notice it, Damon berated him for even writing it down. And yet now here he is, pretending that he took note of the piece of metal all by himself.

He also takes credit for finding the smell, albeit slightly less directly. But he still makes it sound like he noticed it by himself, when Jean was the one who had to directly point it out to him. And even then, Damon could only smell the generator at first, and Jean had to further explain what he meant. And Damon pretty much plagiarizes his description of the smell without crediting him, too. You’d think a debater would know how to cite their sources correctly, haha.

So long story short, Damon fails to mention that he got help investigating from both Ulysses and Jean. I find that interesting because even though Damon says he can only rely on himself right before this trial starts, he is actively ignoring that he is only able to steer the trial in the right direction at certain points because of the help he received from others. The game is both proving his point about him only relying on himself (+Eva this trial) wrong, while also letting the player further see his mindset. Pretty cool. (Though I’d honestly be kinda pissed if I was Ulysses haha).

I also really liked Eva this chapter. Legitimately the first chapter death I've been most sad about in any Fangan. Usually I see the fake-out support thing coming a mile away, since it's such a common thing in fangans, but they genuinely fooled me with Eva. I really got attached to her and I'm sad to see her go.

I still haven't really fully processed her character, but what I do know is that she's really cool and relatable and her voice actor is very talented. Her design is amazing. Her sense of humor is immaculate. Overall, amazing character I was devastated to see go.

One cool detail I noticed, in order to commemorate my love for her:

After avoiding Grace, which Damon theorizes was because she didn't want her talent mocked, she investigates the Dining Hall people. And yet, even though she mentions Jett and Mark being unhelpful, she says nothing about Kai.

This could be shrugged off by the fact Kai said something helpful about the footsteps when Damon approached, but since Kai says this info like he hasn't shared it with anyone else, I don't think that's the case. Instead, I think this confirms Damon's suspicion that she is avoiding those who mocked her real talent, since Kai is definitely a jerk about it to her face on at least two occasions. She legitimately just didn't speak with him. That really hits home just how uncomfortable Eva was with a lot of the people in the killing game.

(I'll talk more about this in the Kai post, but Eva not mentioning Kai when you enter the dining hall, and Desmond also not mentioning where he went before that, made me actually start worrying that we were gonna find a second body haha, that's why I noticed this).

Lastly, I'd just like to say:

Even Desmond and Eloise being like "dude no stfu" at Diana in this CG was hilarious and I love it.

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

So, here are my long thoughts on The Last Voyage of the Demeter because I'm jetlagged and trying to keep myself awake.

I'm going to organize it from my biggest issues to my smallest nitpicks. Because I am aware that some of the things that bother me are nitpicks. Also this movie is old enough that I don't think spoilers are out of line.

Anyway, here are my thoughts:

I don't think I can fairly judge the movie as an adaptation of Dracula. This would be a short review if that was my standard, because it is a bad adaptation. There's a laundry list of reasons why, and I'll get back to one of them because I think it is indicative of how this movie fumbled the story. It takes a very loose approach to the book, and that wouldn't be entirely fair to fixate on. But I will point out where I think the book executed a theme or tone element more effectively.

I fully went into the movie ready to judge it on its own merits as a self-contained horror story. That's why I was surprised that I disliked it so much, because it doesn't hold up as a piece of horror media. I think the core issue is that the screenplay fundamentally was thinking of itself as a movie about people fighting a monster.

In that respect, it does away with something that makes the Captain's log such an effective part of the original book: The mystery.

The original section is an exercise in dramatic irony. You, as the reader, have already seen the thing making the crew vanish, because you read Jonathan's diary and know what is in the boxes (even if you were reading it for the first time and didn't have the cultural osmosis of knowing who Dracula). You know why they are in danger. The captain doesn't. He spends most of the log trying to figure out what is going on and if it is misfortune or something really on board with them. He only sees Dracula at the very end of the log, when there is little he can do except tie himself to the wheel.

The book answers the question of "why don't they make port or throw the boxes overboard?" with saying that the captain doesn't know for sure if it is actually something malicious related to the cargo. The Romanian first mate has to slowly come to the realization that he does know, because he's resisting believing in superstition. Only when the knife passes through Dracula without harming him does he panic because it's undeniable that he's facing a folklore monster.

That build up is entirely absent from The Last Voyage of the Demeter. Anna just tells them within the first half hour of the movie (she's also a very inconsistent character, but I'll get back to that), and within days the crew has literally seen Dracula multiple times. People aren't mysteriously vanishing; they've been killed pretty clearly and there are survivors with bite marks. The deck is littered with body parts at points. It makes the voiceovers about "some doom" being on the ship seem comical, because the captain has seen with his own eyes what is going on.

The only reason given for why they can't make port to deal with the issue is that they're too far away, I guess? Which is also not the case for a ship sailing that route. This isn't an open sea voyage.

While the pacing of a movie and the pacing of a show are different, The Terror did this so much better. You don't get to see the Tuunbaq clearly until quite late in the series. People just vanish or get mauled by...something. That sense of mystery is just gone in The Last Voyage. And it is disappointing because that was a huge opportunity to nail the tone.

If I had to come up with the key elements of what the Demeter section is, it would be: A Horror Story about a ship with a tragic ending.

They didn't nail the horror, but what about the other two?

There's also a puzzling lack of understanding of the dynamics on a ship throughout the movie. One glaring example is that the First Mate and Clemens make the decision to sink the ship without even asking the captain first. I know this is the merchant navy and not the navy, but that is still a galling lack of discipline. The captain is in charge and his duty is to the whole ship and the crew.

The original captain's log makes use of this. Dracula more or less kills his way up the chain of command because he's a sadist. He's forcing the commanding officers to feel more desperation as they fail in their duty to protect their crew.

The Last Voyage makes the captain a very minor character, which at least to me reveals a misunderstanding of how hierarchy works in a ship. While I don't think including new characters is necessarily bad, Clemens and Anna make most of the important decisions, and neither of them particularly have standing with the crew. It undercuts the idea of responsibility and letting people come to harm under your care (which carries through later to Lucy and Mina).

I'll return to other ways the ship setting feels incorrect later, because those are closer to nitpicks.

So, third element: is it a tragedy? Does everyone on board die by the end?

The opening scene may make you think so. But no, actually they don't. Clemens escapes and ends the movie vowing to hunt down Dracula. For one, this is where it is a bad Dracula adaptation because that simply cannot happen and maintain the plot of Dracula. Unless he was rather dense when he read about the Bloofer Lady in the paper and decided that wasn't related. But additionally, the tone of the ending radically changes. It isn't a tragedy where the last act of a brave man is to stay at the wheel, because he isn't the lone survivor left to be battered to death by either the storm or Dracula anymore. In fact most of the crew is still there for the multiple people vs Dracula fight.

This is where the tone really failed for me: the story has a winner, a hero, someone who can make it out alive. And it's the new character. That just did not sit well with me when the original is such a poignant tragedy.

The First Mate, who is the character most primed to come to a realization, hardly has an arc in The Last Voyage.

The insistence that they can fight and maybe even win also makes both Clemens and Anna incredibly inconsistent characters. She especially suffers from this, because she should in theory have the knowledge of how to repel a vampire (the villagers certainly have some idea in the book), but then she says things like "do you think I have the faintest idea how to kill him?" and in the next breath is urging the crew to kill him before he reaches London. She also says Dracula is going to London because "there is no one left in my home country to feed on" but her backstory is that she's on the ship as a deal so Drac can have a snack. So, clearly, he can get people to feed on if he wants.

Clemens is the "too smart and rational" character. But he also never thinks maybe they should expose the boxes to sunlight even after seeing people combust in sunlight after turning. It's all terribly inconsistent.

The decision to not write the story as a tragedy ends up cascading, and that's the root of the issue. They can't win and kill the monster without completely changing the story of the novel, so they are only competent to a point. It makes it a worse horror movie, even disregarding it as an adaptation.

Now for the nitpicks, including quite a few about boats that probably only I noticed:

The aesthetics are all over the place in terms of period. Clemens spends a large part of the movie (which is set in the 1890s) running around in a lace up pirate shirt. No one on this ship owns a period appropriate boat cloak. None of their shirts have remotely the right collars, giving the sense that nautical fashion was sort of vaguely consulted over the long 18th to 19th century-ish.

Please look at this and tell me that it is even remotely late 19th century:

Here's Olek from 1899 for comparison (note the correct high collar and undershirt):

The dialogue suffers from this too. More than one person uses the word "heathen" which just feels wildly out of place in something that is supposed to have rationality and superstition as the key touchpoints (at least if it wants to be like Dracula). It sounds weird coming from a time period 20 years before World War 1. Sailors especially were more likely to be vaguely Christian but mostly superstitious, not zealots using terms like "heathen."

Additional aesthetic nitpick: The ship looks way too old for the period. That is an early to mid 19th century ship sailing in the 1890s without any retrofitting. There's a throwaway line about the captain not wanting a fancy new steamship, but that doesn't account for how antique the captain's quarters are or the lack of metal on the hull. Again, the nautical aesthetics are all skewing too early. If this ship was still a Russian ship like the original, an older sailing vessel might have said something about the lag in Russian shipbuilding, it works less with an English merchant ship.

There's some functional issues about understanding sailing: The ship is way too spacious inside. Really tall men are standing up straight and walking around the hold with no trouble. That may seem like a small point, but imagine what actually exploiting the claustrophobic feeling below decks could have done for the ambiance.

The ship is definitely undercrewed given the number of masts they are showing. That many men would really struggle to reef all of the sails in a timely manner (which would matter in a storm). The writers put a crew of a small fishing vessel on a ship that is much larger and requires more hands. And it is puzzling because more people would mean: more kills and disappearances as well as giving a progression of being unable to raise and lower the sails and also keep someone at the wheel. Which, I will note, the original log does.

My first red flag about this movie was having seemingly no Slavic characters on a ship that was Russian in the original. But now that I've seen it, I'm even more annoyed that the one Russian character exists to: call a woman a slur, call a black man a slur (a rather British one imo), and then immediately be murdered on screen. Can't have nuance in how we portray Slavic people in Western media, huh?

I also get the sense that the screenwriter didn't know the difference between Romanian and Romani, because the first mate is vaguely hinted to be Romani (the kid mentions "Wojchek taught me some words in Romani") and has a Western Slavic first name, not a Romanian one. When in the book he is explicitly Romanian.

Rapid fire ways the movie gets the book wrong on a nitpicky level: Dracula doesn't get more human looking as he nears London, a vampire who prides himself on being aristocratic isn't going to drink from pigs or rats, the vampires in the book can go in sunlight but are weaker, religious artifacts are way more powerful deterrents in the book, and Clemens is way too casual about transfusions. It makes Van Helsing doing it seem less like an act of desperation. Anna gets Mina's ability to sense Dracula without putting in the effort to reverse engineer the connection.

Someone please tell me that Nosferatu is better. This was honestly very frustrating.

[igglemouse]

The State Of The Iggleverse 2025

The Iggleverse, a term I've used since starting my tumblr to simply explain my style of play. That is, everything I post is connected, from one sim to the next. The first iggleverse, that dated back to my first sim, Lourdes, went on for a few years and everything was connected.

I soft relaunched that iggleverse, which was easily done since, little did the reader know (since I never got that far) Telah had become the holder of the Watcher's Key (something I referenced then every now and then) and since I was literally the Watcher (well who else could it be!?) I used that little device to restart it even again. Dalton, Telah's son, who was the main heir in one of my darkest runs, had battled with Lovecraftian monsters and ancient deities and it had destroyed his universe...which was sort of explained by the introduction of his daughter who said she had escaped a destroyed universe...

Long story short, I still had connections to the first Iggleverse in even this latest one. For example, Gracelyn's mother was explained to be from another universe and her father was a traveller of different planes of existence...and her mother was a blood witch. Did this get mentioned? It might be mentioned in a post I have queued...but the term blood witch brings it all back to Dalton's story and a certain evil spellcaster that had summoned an ancient deity into his world...

All this to say. The iggleverse is kind of complex. I like that. But I try to tell a story with the intention of someone diving in at any moment and sort of getting right into it. It's why I always tell new readers, oh just jump in. To me, a story can be as complex as rocket science as long as the reader is focused on one thing at a time and is not overwhelmed. The past is a reference and the future is unknown.

After all, the beginning of any story is where you decide it is, but the ending, well, that's a lot more final.

The truth is, Frida, Zer, Gracelyn, and Teresa (who was cursed being 4th because of my fascination with odd numbers) have run their short course.

I hate doing this again but I only do it because it must be done. I realize that the way I was producing them and the past few set of heirs was completely wrong.

It took too long to even play one day of their gameplay because of how much I over thought things, over planned things, and then what made it worse is that I was still playing the game and so every time a sim did something different it meant rewriting the present and changing the future. For anyone that's tried to write a novel you know how much changing one thing can just cause a domino effect of you having to rewrite the whole thing...and this is what was constantly happening.

Example...I had a heir named Kyoko. Some of you may remember her, she was in Sulani and she had once met a sim that was supposed to be her romantic interest, don't remember his name, but they go out on a date and it was going well until one argument flipped her relationship with the guy. I was like well that sucks, I had like so much planned for this couple! But, I do not force my sims relationships, that would be boring! In the end, she end up becoming a mermaid and bleh...

Long story short, this is what was going on with my latest heirs and has been going on since maybe...I forget the last time I completed an actual heir maybe like 2021 or something?!?!

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

What Now?

Well, I do this for the love of the game! So, I still enjoy doing sim legacies and you will meet THREE new heirs very very very soon. Today, actually!

The Iggleverse must be made new and whole and beautiful and I hope these three heirs are the ones to bring it home and actually have a 2nd generations.

But who is to say you won't just do this again a few months from now?

Well, no one is to say, not even I know that! But, one of the big issues I had with the past one is how slow things were going. I was playing Frida for most of 2024 and she just now had a child! Like I mentioned, the production of my recent legacy attempts has been so slow. A whole episode was a lot of hours of work and then it'd just be like 3-5 days.

Back then I would have had multiple generations in a year like 2 or 3 and daily posting was easily done because I was usually sitting on like 70+ posts. I want to get back to that and the best part, I think I know how!

How?

I must put the legacy ahead of the story, for the longest I was putting story before legacy. It took some enjoyment out of the game because what was happening is I was planning out days for my sims for whatever the story I had planned for them.

Okay, but why not just do all the above and bring back the heirs I've read?

Because its just not how I work! I also have advanced the stories further than read and I don't like them. I feel like because I tried to do this mix of storytelling and plotting while doing gameplay it made me write my sims into arcs I didn't like. Kyoko's Mermaid...

Well, okay, but when will the new legacy start?

I don't have a date, could be tomorrow, could be a week from now, it just depends on when I feel like I am ready. It literally could be tomorrow though because the christmas week, the week I planned on posting Frida, Teresa, Zer, and Gracelyn, because I had time, I spent making new heirs and writing them and I have content ready to post! More than one might expect but that is because I've gone back to my old style of production. Which was legacy and gameplay first and story to tie it all together.

No big scrivener file with all the plots I have going (and there were A LOT), nothing but what the next sim day might bring!

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TOO LONG DID NOT READ!

Well! Just know that I am still around and starting fresh (again), for those that were attached to the previous four heirs, well, I am sorry and like usual, if anyone wants spoilers I'll post them! I think I'll just post pictures and explanations of what I had planned actually!

Because I want this iggleverse to be completely fresh, no connections at all to any previous iggleverse!

So. New year, new me, but also still the old me! I hope that is good enough!

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Voices From The Past - Bruce Wayne X Female Reader

Title: Voices From The Past

Bruce Wayne X Female Reader

(Can be seen as any iteration of Bruce Wayne, however the Batcave is from The Dark Knight).

Additional Characters: Reader's mother, Reader's father (Mentioned), Reader's Step-Mom (Mentioned), and Alfred (Mentioned)

WC: 4,108

Warnings: Crying, family issues/parent abandonment mentioned, Reader is mentioned to have a mother and father, italics, divorce hinted to, infidelity by Reader's mother mentioned, mentions of marriage, nicknames, Bruce is so wise, slight angst, and fluff

You never thought this day would come. Your phone shook in your shaking hands. Tears burned the backs of your eyes before rolling down your cheeks in waves. You stared at the blackened screen, unblinking, shocked, upset, overwhelmed… Too many emotions to fully process properly. 

Your mother called. Well, you didn't call her your mother. Technically, yes, she is your birth mother, who birthed you, but she wasn't your mom. Your step-mother was more of a mother than she was. Overall, it was complicated.

Now, the thing was, your mother never called. The day she walked out on you and your father was the last day you had ever seen or heard from her. And that was fifteen years ago.

You had very vague memories of your time and life with her before she left; a time at the local community pool, that one time she taught you how to bake cherry pie, and when she would tuck you in at night. One memory though, that somewhat haunted you at the worst of times, was when she would sing “You Are My Sunshine” to you. You hadn’t listened to that song since she left, it always reminded you too much of her. You hated being reminded of her.

After she left though, walking out on you and your father, it was like she had taken the bright sun with her. For a long time, you didn’t understand why she left or what you had done wrong. For a long time, you thought that you were the reason why she left. Were you not good enough? Were you not a good kid? What did you do to make her hate you that she left? 

You tried not to dwell on it, tried to be strong for your dad, who did his best to fill the gaping void she left behind. Your step-mother came into your life years later, a balm to your wounded family, and you slowly started to heal. But the scars remained, faint yet unforgotten.

And now, fifteen years later, that woman had the audacity to call you out of nowhere. How she got your number, you didn’t know. You didn’t really care. Her voice on the other end of the line was hesitant, almost trembling, like she wasn’t sure if you’d even answer. It was awkward, insanely so, and you wished that you had never answered the unknown number.

Her voice faltered as she spoke, a tentative edge threading through every word. “Hi, honey. It’s me,” She began, and for a split moment, you didn’t recognize the sound of her voice, but then it hit you like a tsunami and your eyes widened. It had been fifteen years after all, so it only made sense that you wouldn’t recognize her voice at first or at all. She paused. And it was long, heavy, and suffocating. She was waiting for you to say something. You didn’t. “I… I just wanted to see how you’ve been,” She continued, tone awkward, as if she didn’t know where to start or how much ground there was to cover. 

The words hit you, and you fought the urge to hang up right then. “How have I been?” You asked yourself, scoffing mentally.

“I know this is unexpected,” She continued, the slight tremor in her voice betraying her nerves. “I just… I think about you all the time. Wondering how you are doing, where you are. I- I never forgot about you.”

“Okay,” You finally spoke, your voice low, and tone tense. What could you even say to that? 

She let out a breath when you spoke finally, “Are you still in the same town?” She asked, her voice continuing to be cautious, “Or… Did you move? I always wondered if you stayed close to home or if you went somewhere else.” There was a painful irony in her words, like she was trying to piece together a puzzle she had willingly walked away from. The puzzle had long been put away, there was nothing to solve. She didn’t know where you were, what you did, or who you had become. “You must be doing well,” She added, trying to sound hopeful, “You were always a smart kid.” You pursed your lips at her words, “What… What have you been up to? Are you working? Married? Kids?”

Her questions came in rapid succession now, but the questions only grated on your nerves, reopening old wounds that you thought had long since scabbed over. She wanted to know everything, it seemed, about the life she had no part in. And all you wanted to know was why she thought she had the right to ask.

You swallowed thickly, feeling tears burn your eyes, but you held them in. Clearing your throat, you finally forced yourself to respond, though your tone was far from warm. Each word felt like it was being dragged out of you. “I moved,” You said shortly, not meeting her invisible gaze through the phone. “To Gotham.”

There was a pause on her end, a brief silence before she spoke again, her voice tinged with surprise. “Gotham? Wow, that’s... That’s far. I never would’ve guessed.”

You ignored the attempt at small talk. “Yeah,” You said curtly, hoping she’d drop the subject - and the call altogether - but of course, she didn’t do either.

“What do you do there? Are you working?”

You clenched your jaw. “I used to,” You replied, keeping it vague. You didn’t owe her the specifics, didn’t owe her anything, really.

Another pause, “Oh, I see. Well, that’s okay. Things happen, right?” She said awkwardly, trying to fill the silence. “There will always be another opportunity.”

You inhaled sharply, her assuming you lost whatever job you had irritated you, and you debated whether or not to answer her next question. The thought of sharing this part of your life with her felt wrong, like exposing something sacred to someone who hadn’t earned the right to know. 

“I’m married,” You said reluctantly, your voice stiff and clipped.

Her reaction was immediate, a soft gasp slipping from her lips. “Oh... Oh, wow. Married? That’s-”

“Yeah,” You interrupted, not wanting to hear her feigned excitement or whatever platitudes she had ready. “It happened a while ago.”

Your tone remained distant, each answer another brick in the wall you were determined to keep between you. She might have been your birth mother, but she wasn’t part of your life, and you weren’t about to let her waltz back in like she had any claim to it. Not unless she said or did something worthy enough for your forgiveness.

A flicker of surprise crossed your mind, though, as you realized she hadn’t even heard about your engagement years prior. It had been highly publicized at the time. Then again, she didn’t live in Gotham, and Gotham’s news rarely traveled far beyond the shadow of Metropolis. And you doubted that she was living there.

You shifted on the couch, unable to sit still, your free hand fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve. Every second stretched uncomfortably long as you tried to decide whether to end the call or endure it.

“So... What’s Gotham like?” She asked, her attempt at casual conversation landing awkwardly.

“It’s fine,” You replied shortly, your tone clipped. You tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, your fingers trembling slightly.

“Fine?” She echoed, a nervous laugh in her voice. “I hear it can be a bit... Rough, you know, with everything that goes on there. The crime-rate.”

“It has its moments,” You muttered, glancing at the clock. Time wasn’t moving fast enough.

She hesitated, clearly grasping for something else to say. “And your... Your partner?” She asked cautiously. “What’s he like? Or she?”

You swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in your throat. “He’s great,” You said stiffly, leaving it at that. You didn’t elaborate, didn’t offer details. This wasn’t her business.

“That’s good,” She said quickly, “I’m glad you found someone.”

You could feel your stomach twisting as she spoke. Her words were polite enough, but they carried an undercurrent of something you couldn’t quite name - guilt, maybe, or regret. You could only hope. Your grip on the phone tightened, and you shifted again, crossing and uncrossing your legs in an attempt to release some of the tension building in your chest.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” She added after another long pause, her voice quieter now.

You bit your lip, “I’m fine,” You said, the words sharper than you intended.

“I just...” She trailed off, sighing softly. “I wanted to hear your voice again. To know how you’re doing. It’s been… It’s been a while…”

Your throat constricted, and you blinked rapidly, trying to keep your emotions in check. You were twisting the hem of your sleeve now, nearly tearing the fabric, your leg bouncing restlessly.

“Well, now you know,” You said bluntly, your voice colder than you meant for it to be.

She was silent for a moment, and the weight of the silence was suffocating. You glanced at the screen, half-hoping the call would drop, giving you an excuse to end it.

“I’ve missed you,” She said finally, her voice breaking slightly. You closed your eyes, exhaling shakily. Your fingers hovered over the “end call” button, and for a moment, you considered pressing it. But something - curiosity, obligation, or maybe just the tiniest trace of unresolved pain - kept you on the line. “And- and I love you. I’ve always loved you,” She added, her voice trembling. The words hit you like a punch to the gut, stealing the breath from your lungs. You stared blankly at the floor, your mind spinning. Your chest tightened painfully, her words stirring emotions you didn’t want to acknowledge. 

You didn’t respond, didn’t even trust yourself to speak. “Yeah right. You sure have a funny way of showing it.” You thought. Silence stretched between you, heavy and suffocating, until she filled it once more.

“I love you,” She repeated, her voice softer, almost pleading. It was as if she were hoping that, this time, you’d say it back. When you didn’t, she sighed, the sound tinged with resignation. “Well... You have my number now,” She said quietly. “I hope... I hope you’ll call me or text me sometime.”

“Okay,” You murmured.

There was a pause, and you could hear the sadness in her voice when she said, “Take care of yourself, honey.”

The line went dead with a soft click, and you were left staring at the blackened screen of your phone, your hands still trembling. For a moment, you were frozen, the weight of the conversation pressing down on you like a lead blanket.

Then, the tears came, hot and uncontrollable. They streaked down your face, dripping onto your legs as your shoulders began to shake. A strangled sob escaped your throat, and before you knew it, you were doubling over, clutching the phone tightly in both hands.

Your chest heaved as you gasped for air between sobs, the dam of emotions you’d held back for years finally breaking. You curled into yourself, hugging your knees to your chest as you rocked slightly on the couch, tears streaming endlessly. The sound of your own cries filled the room, raw and unfiltered.

The phone slipped from your grasp and landed on the cushion beside you, forgotten as you buried your face in your hands. It felt like the world had been turned upside down, and all you could do was let the storm of grief, confusion, and anger wash over you.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, your sobs slowly slipping into silence. The tears had long since dried on your cheeks, leaving a salty, tight feeling on your skin. You stared blankly at the wall in front of you, unmoving, your mind overrun with thoughts and emotions. It was as though you were suspended in a void, caught between the past and the present, wishing - oh, god, did you wish - that you had never answered your phone.

You weren’t okay - far from it - but eventually, you felt stable enough to move. Sluggishly, you pushed yourself into a sitting position. Your arms felt leaden as you reached up to rub your warm cheeks, your fingers trembling slightly as you tried to compose yourself.

A shaky sigh escaped your lips. Your head fell forward, your elbows resting on your knees as you stared down at the floor. The weight of all of her words lingered, pressing down on you.

Rising, you sniffled, dragging your socked feet along the cool hardwood floors as you drifted through the living room and down the hall. The dim light of the setting sun filtered through the heavy curtains, casting long shadows against the walls. Usually, you would take the time to admire the sunset, but tonight, you didn’t want to. You continued to wander, slipping past the kitchen and the library.

Your steps faltered momentarily as you approached the grand piano in the corner of the study. Its polished surface gleamed faintly in the dim light. For a moment, you hesitated, your fingers hovering over the cool ivory keys, before pressing a specific sequence - notes that resonated softly through the quiet room.

A faint mechanical click broke the silence as the hidden mechanism activated, part of the bookshelf behind you gliding aside to reveal a concealed elevator. You stepped inside, the doors closing behind you with a quiet hiss. As the elevator descended, the air grew cooler, carrying the faint earthy scent of stone. 

The elevator doors opened, the Batcave sprawled before you in all its dark glory. Gleaming metal and stark lighting illuminated the space, reflecting off the walls of jagged rock and smooth concrete. The massive expanse felt both imposing and oddly comforting. The sound of trickling water echoed from the waterfalls and their pools, mingling with the low hum of machinery and the occasional beep of system.

You walked along the narrow bridge that stretched over one of the cave’s pools, the platform ahead glowing faintly from the illumination of the LED lights hanging above. The faint chill of the air seeped through your clothes as your arms wrapped tightly around yourself, seeking warmth.

You lingered a moment longer, your heart tightening as you watched him, his broad shoulders bathed in the soft glow of the monitors. Even in the depths of his focus, there was a quiet compassion about him, a gentleness that softened the unyielding strength he carried. Bruce was your rock, the calm in every storm, and a love so steady, so unwavering, it felt like something you’d only dreamed could be real.

You moved closer, standing beside his chair, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his sharp features. The strong line of his jaw, the way strands of his hair fell over his forehead a bit, the way his lips pressed together in concentration - it was impossible not to love every detail of him.

Bruce was the kind of man who bore the weight of the world without faltering, always making space to carry you through your own storms. He was unwaveringly selfless, fiercely protective, and gave every piece of himself even when he had little left to offer. And, of course, he was devastatingly handsome. Those piercing blue eyes, the unruly dark hair, and a sculpted frame that seemed carved from marble itself. But it was the way he loved you, so completely and unconditionally, that left you breathless every time.

You glanced down at him, your fingers gently grazing the back of his chair. Even without meeting your gaze, you knew he sensed your presence - he always did. Time and again, you found yourself seeking him out, whether you had something to share or simply craved the comfort of being near him.

Without a word, your hand slowly lifted, your fingers grazing through his hair, the strands soft beneath your touch. The simple act brought an immediate sense of calm, as it always did. There was something soothing about the way his hair slipped between your fingers. But the pull of him was too strong. With a soft sigh, you moved around to his side. wordlessly, you lifted one of his arms, sliding into his lap with a gentle movement. Your legs draped over the sides of his chair, your body settling close to his.

Bruce’s hand instinctively rested on your back, fingers splayed across your - his - nightshirt. His other hand, still hovering over the keyboard, stilled for a moment, his muscles relaxing. He didn’t need to say anything - his quiet presence, the warmth of his touch, was really all you needed.

You buried your face in his neck, your cold nose pressing against his warm skin, inhaling his familiar scent. Wrapping your arms around him, you let your fingers slip underneath his shirt, trying to get as much skin-to-skin contact as you could. The warmth of his skin against yours was like coming home, and you let out a soft sigh of relief, closing your eyes as you melted into him. Bruce shifted slightly, his arm tightening around you as he leaned his head against yours. 

For the next couple of minutes, neither of you said a word. Bruce didn’t ask if you were alright; he knew better than that. He knew something was wrong. But he would never rush you, and never push you to speak before you were ready. He just held you, patient as always, waiting for you to open up.

You took a deep breath, the weight of everything still pressing heavily on your chest. Finally, your voice broke the silence, soft, hesitant, muffled. “My mother called me.” Your fingers continued to softly trace the contours of his skin, brushing over the faint scars that lay hidden beneath his shirt. The words felt like a stone in your throat, hard to let out but impossible to keep inside for much longer. You needed to vent.

Bruce’s hand, which had been rubbing soothing circles on your own back, paused. You could feel his body shift slightly, his focus entirely on you. “What did she want?” He continued his gentle movements.

You bit your lip, a shaky breath escaping as you finally answered, “She wanted to catch up. After all these years… She wanted to know what I was doing, if I was married, if I had kids…” Your arms around Bruce’s mid-section tightened. “Waltzing back into my life like nothing happened.” The dam inside you broke. You could feel your tears starting to fall, “She just left. She left us - me and dad. Without any explanation. No goodbye. Nothing. And now she thinks she can just pick up the phone like nothing’s wrong? Like everything’s fine?” You shook your head, the bitterness, pain, and confusion flooding your words. “It hurts, Bruce. It hurts so much, and I never was told why, just… Nothing. No answers, no apology.”

As your words began to fade, Bruce’s hand gently tapped your back, signaling for you to sit up. You huffed sadly, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand, feeling exhausted. 

Bruce’s eyes softened with understanding. “You’ve never told me about your mother before.”

You shrugged slightly, feeling your heart twist as you dropped your eyes to your hands in your lap. “She was never really in my life.” You hesitated for a moment, but the warmth of Bruce’s touch, his understanding presence, made it easier to continue. You looked back up at him then, meeting his gaze. His eyes were steady, filled with patience and care, and it made everything seem just a little more bearable. “When I was ten, she just… Up and left. She just walked away from me and dad without a word, well, at least to me.” Your voice wavered, thick with emotion. “It wasn’t until I was in my late teens that dad finally told me she left him for another man. She never even tried to explain it to me. I was just… Left behind. And replaced… That guy she left us for had another daughter around my age…”

Bruce’s hand found yours, threading his fingers through yours gently so you would stop picking at your skin, along with to support you. “It hurt so much,” You added quietly, wiping your eyes again with your free hand. “Not just mentally, but emotionally. And then she calls me, after all this time, and it just… It opened the wound again. I thought it had healed, but it’s still there.”

Bruce’s hand squeezed yours, his thumb brushing over the back of your knuckles. “I’m so sorry you went through that,” He murmured, his free hand brushing your hair back from your eyes before cupping your cheek. “You didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve any of it.” You tilted your head into his palm, nuzzling closer, covering his hand with yours, grateful for his unwavering support, for his gentle affection that surrounded you like a shield. “And you’re not alone,” He whispered, his voice filled with a quiet strength that anchored you. “You have your dad, your step-mom, and of course, you have Alfred. And I’m here. I will always be here for you.” He then lifted your hand, his eyes never breaking contact with yours. His thumb ran over the wedding ring, a soft smile forming on his lips. “To death do us part, remember?” He said lovingly, reassuringly, before pressing a gentle kiss to the space above the ring on your hand.

You let out a breathy mix of a sigh and a chuckle, smiling as you repeated his words, “To death do us part.” Your heart swelled, feeling the warmth of his love, and you knew, deep down, he was right. You weren't alone, not now, not ever. Your heart swelled with gratitude, with love, the tears slowly drying up. Bruce wasn’t just your husband; he was your home. And in his arms, you finally felt like you could breathe again. "Thank you, Brucie," You slowly, “But, I don’t know what to do now." You admitted, the words spilling out before you could stop them. "I don’t know how to move forward. I don’t even know if I should call her... Or if I should let her in again."

"It’s all your choice, sweetheart," He said, his voice unwavering. "You don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for." You let out a shaky breath, leaning back into him, finding comfort in the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear. "Just because she called, trying to reconnect, doesn’t mean you have to call her tomorrow or even a week from now." He continued, "It could be three years from now, or six months. Whenever you feel ready. Or you don’t ever have to call her." The reassurance in his voice eased some of the tightness in your chest, the pressure to make a decision immediately slipping away. "You’ll know when you’re ready," Bruce added, "And no matter what you decide, I’m here for you."

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting the warmth of his embrace comfort you. For once, the world didn’t feel as heavy. “If I call her, will you be there with me?”

"Of course," Bruce said, "I'll be right beside you, every step of the way. Whatever you need, I’m here. If you decide to reach out to her, I’ll be there with you." He then cupped the back of your head, his thumb brushing softly upon your hair. He pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as he then nuzzled his nose into your hairline. He pulled back just enough to glance at the clock on his monitors. His eyes softened as he looked back at you, his voice gentle but filled with determination. "I’m staying home from patrol tonight," He said, "We can order your favorite take-out, watch one of our movies." His expression was thoughtful, and you could tell that he was making sure everything would be exactly how you needed it to be. Trying to make the rest of the night as comforting and fun as possible. “I’ll even see if Alfred would mind making cookies.”

You sat up slowly, wiping away any lingering tears as a small smile tugged at your lips. The idea of a quiet night with him, no worries or demands, was exactly what you needed. "Can we cuddle?"

Bruce's lips quirked upward and without a word, he moved to pull you closer, his arms wrapping around you. "Of course, my love," He whispered, his voice deep and soothing. "Anything for you."

~~~

Main Masterlist | DC Masterlist

[sugarushwriting]

look what you made me do

stalker jungwon x reader part 3

content and trigger warnings: many. just know this is ALL a work of fiction.

kinda long and a wild ride [not proof read]

“would you walk upright?” jungwon growled between his teeth, walking you up the dirt, narrow path to a front door of a cabin.

“my leg is still healing!” you snapped back.

jungwon held you with your hands behind your back, leading you towards the secluded cabin in the woods.

he unlocked and opened the front door, leading you in to the tiny cabin. “where do i sleep?” you asked, wondering how many beds there were and if he was going to make you sleep with him.

“in the basement with the other two.” jungwon replied, and lead you towards another door towards the back, unlatching the lock, before revealing a dark, narrow staircase. he began to lead you down the steps carefully.

you swallowed, and you literally were surprised. you must’ve really pissed him off at the hospital, because he was no longer giving you grace.

it first started when you tried to write a note to one of the nurses asking for help. you thought jungwon was asleep—but he wasn’t.

“what’cha writing?”

you startled, quickly putting down the pen, and attempted to hide the paper, but he was quick to snatch it. reading it, he gave you a disappointing glance but said nothing.

the second time, you attempted to get out of bed, as you were sure jungwon was sleeping. except you were caught when your bed alarm went off due to you being a fall risk.

the third and last attempt, the doctor and nurse were at your side, jungwon stepped out for a phone call.

“i’m not his wife, please you have to help me!” you rushed out in panic.

almost too fast, they didn’t hear you as you were mumbling as well. you couldn’t risk jungwon hearing you.

your eyes quickly darted to the door, jungwon not paying you any mind, before you almost yelled, “i’m not his wife! help me!”

that caught the attention of the medical staff, but jungwon as well, as he ran into the room.

but jungwon had the perfect cover up.

“oh, she had a nasty brain injury when she was younger, so often times she forgets things either for seconds at a time or even years.” jungwon waved off. “and with this new fall, i’m sure it didn’t help at all.”

the doctors were able to confirm it from past medical records of you visiting the doctor for the tbi and different instances of forgetfulness.

you were fucked.

reaching the last step in the basement, you nearly tripped over your feet as jungwon turned on the light revealing cage like rooms you’d see at an animal shelter.

in two of them was danielle and asa. they both sat up, running to bang on the chain linked door, their mouths open from shock and crying.

they were dressed in nothing but a plain black tank and black spandex shorts.

jungwon pushed you in one of the cages from across them. you landed to your knees with a thud and an ‘ouch.’

you looked up at jungwon who had a face of no emotion, threw the same clothes the other two girls were wearing at your face.

“change. i’ll be back with some guests.” jungwon stated, locking the door. he then turned to danielle and asa with a menacing smile.

“you two eat. make sure you get enough for energy.”

“why?” asa choked out.

“it’s hunting season.” jungwon replied.

no way to tell time, but it seemed to be never ending hours, the door to the basement door unlatched and footsteps padded down the steps. two sets. all three of you girls stood up, weak.

jungwon came in view with kai.

“kai?” you whispered out. kai smiled.

“which one do you want?” jungwon asked. “just not her,” he pointed to you, “you know she’s mine.”

“danielle.” kai smiled.

and with that, jungwon unlocked the door to her cage, dragging her out. “let’s go.” jungwon ordered.

danielle began begging for her life and babbling doing anything and everything to please and beg. both men ignored her, as they drug her up the stairs. the basement door latched once again.

“what do you think they’re doing?” you choked out, holding back a sob.

asa stared at you, tears streaming down her face, “you heard him,” she sniffled, “it’s hunting season.”

you let out a loud sob, covering your mouth, walking backwards to where your back hit the wall and you slid down.

asa went quiet, trying to keep herself warm in the lack of clothes you all were given. there was a few small rectangular windows to see the ground outside, and it seemed to be dark, now raining with drops smacking the window.

again, no telling the time, just seemed hours away, more footsteps were heard and the latch of the basement door.

this time jungwon came down with ni-ki. jungwon smiled, “you’re the lucky winner with asa.”

ni-ki grinned, “perfectly fine with me. always thought she was pretty. too bad she was always a bitch.”

asa quietly sobbed in her cage, and tried to back into a corner as jungwon went to open her cage. he paused, “you’re a feisty one, behave.”

ni-ki chuckled, and jungwon finished opening the cage. luckily asa listened and didn’t try anything. it was probably best.

“what—why?” asa asked softly as ni-ki took a hold of you. “are you hunting us?”

both men smiled. “yep.” jungwon said.

“but there’s a twist.” ni-ki said.

“what’s that?” you asked.

the boys seemed proud of their plan. “you run, we hunt. if you get away from the electric fence line, you’re free to go.”

“if you catch us?” asa asked.

“you become our bitch.”

“and if we don’t agree?” you snarked.

both boys looked at you, then asa, then each other, back to asa. “we kill you.”

“what—what happened with danielle?”

“eh, i’ll leave that up to your imagination.”

with that, jungwon and ni-ki began forcing asa up the stairs. “it’s not fair! it’s two against one!”

“i’ll be the only one hunting you, dear.” ni-ki said to asa.

once you heard the latch of the basement door, you began to pace in the small enclosure. if you get caught you become their bitch. what could that mean?

stay at home maid? housewife? pet? slave? sex toy?

you shuddered. you had to escape, you had to find that damn electric fence. but how? you were in a secluded part of the woods. no telling how many miles—acres of land this was.

but what happens once you get free? do they just hunt you all over again and stalk you? make you live your life in fear?

your thoughts were interrupted with a gunshot.

“no!” you screamed, running up to the chained fence door. “asa! no!”

was she caught? did she choose death? did ni-ki go rogue? footsteps thudding from above, then halted. the basement door unlatched, and down came jungwon.

“asa,” you whispered out

“ni-ki needs to control that damn temper of his.” jungwon mumbled, then looked up at you. “she’s alive, just shot in the arm. fucker wanted to scare her into submission. didn’t even give her the 30 second head start like we agreed.”

“jung—jungwon.”

“don’t worry squid, your hunt will begin tomorrow.”

he grabbed a pillow and blanket from the shelf nearby, and opened the cage to throw them in, before quickly locking in back.

you thought, maybe he didn’t actually lock it? remembering your hand ties, they weren’t tight!

when the door latch was heard, you tried your hardest to get the door open—but failed. this time, jungwon wasn’t pitying you.

the next morning came. jungwon fed and left you alone. same with afternoon and evening. it wasn’t until it was pitch dark outside he came back down, wearing all black himself.

“time to hunt.” he smiled and went to open your cage. “try anything funny and i won’t hesitate to kill you.” he threatened and you nodded.

you had no weapon other than a damn pillow.

quickly dragging you upstairs, he threw you out the front door, him locking behind it behind you both. “you have 30 seconds to run.”

you looked at him from the ground where you landed. “huh?”

jungwon began to countdown, “29, 28, 27,” he clicked his tongue and you threw your body up, running as much and fast as you can towards the woods with your hurt leg.

you ran and ran and ran, soon the pain subsiding as you were running on pure adrenaline through the trees, dirt, fallen logs and branches, over snakes probably.

but you didn’t look back, not once. not even when you heard a gunshot and a dog barking.

your breathing was hard, you were fighting off tears, and tried to focus on the path ahead. your eyes happened to look up and you found an old tree house. looked like it hadn’t been used in years, as it was falling apart.

should you hide, or should you keep running? you decided to climb the branches like you used to as a child as the ladder was nonexistent to this treehouse.

a flash came to your mind of your younger self doing so, but you paid no mind.

when you got safely in the treehouse, since the trap door was open, you kept it open. you didn’t want anything to look out of place.

you huddled down in a corner, trying to control your breathing and sobs. you couldn’t let out much of a sound.

you looked side to side, seeing markings in the treehouse, markings that also brought back memories. your mind flashed a scene of you up in the treehouse with a little boy.

a younger jungwon.

“show yourself my squid!” you heard jungwon yell, throwing you out of memory lane.

could it be a real memory or something false?

you held you breath as if you were holding a bubble. you heard the dog bark. once. twice. then footsteps walk away. you heard a tree branch crack. “found you!”

only it wasn’t you. jungwon followed the noise, then, you heard a gunshot.

what just happened?

then you heard two voices you never thought you’d heard again.

“come down! it’s just us!”

asa and danielle. you quickly looked through the trap door and your eyes did not deceive you. it was yours friends frantically waving for you to come down.

you did. and when your feet hit the ground, you saw a body on the ground. a body dressed in all black. jungwon.

“what—what did you do?”

“it was either them or us.” danielle stated.

“them?” you squeaked.

asa grabbed your hand as you stood frozen, and followed danielle through the woods and soon a green pickup came into view.

“get in and we’ll explain.” danielle said.

“where are we going?” you asked, still in shock and fear.

“police station.”

on the drive, danielle and asa explained. danielle had somehow managed to overpower kai, hit him hard over the head with a giant rock. danielle stated she killed him. he wasn’t moving nor breathing. that’s when she took his keys and had to get a plan.

when danielle saw asa shot and being taken to ni-ki’s ride, danielle took the gun kai had stashed and shot ni-ki. she quickly went to help asa, and when they checked on ni-ki, he wasn’t breathing either.

that’s when they both knew you were next, hid out in the woods, and ambushed jungwon, shooting him. killing him.

“they’re all dead?” you mumbled out. danielle continued to drive in silence, asa grabbed your hand.

“remember, it was them or us.” asa sighed.

you all stayed in the police station, giving statements and talking to detectives for at least 9 hours. so to your surprise, all three of you were called back 4 days later to the same interrogation room.

“we found the cabin you all stated you were held, and it’s just like you all explained.” the detective nodded, showing pictures.

his partner looked at all three of you, “but there’s something that doesn’t add up.”

“what’s that?” you asked.

both detectives took in a deep breath, before one spoke, “the three dead men we found, do not match the identifications of the ones you gave us.”

“impossible!” danielle screeched, you and asa wide mouth in disbelief.

one detective took out photos of the dead bodies from the morgue. you all three, wide eyed, looked completely in disbelief.

in front of you were three men. but not kai, jungwon, or ni-ki. however, they were look-a-likes of the three.

“did you look where we told you?”

“we searched the entire property, miss.”

“i don’t believe you!” danielle huffed.

“well, the three you’re claiming did this have proof of plane tickets and being in a completely different country during this timeframe. been away almost a full month.”

“nope! no way!”

“we need you three to be truthful!”

“we are!” asa exclaimed.

“there’s two theories we have,” one detective said and the other began explaining.

“the first is these three men did do what you said they did, you all just believe it was the guys you claimed because they looked so much alike. you all did go to high school together and haven’t seen one another in a while, so maybe when these guys claimed to be the ones you thought, you believed them.”

danielle whispered, “what’s the second?”

the detective hesitated, “we should bring in a psychologist first.”

you slammed your fist on the table. “we’re not fucking crazy or making this shit up!”

“what’s your second theory?” danielle asked again.

“you and your girls were so distraught from the loss of your friend kelly, that you all went down memory lane, finally grieving the girls you once were. bullies. you all felt bad. took some bad hallucinogenic drugs, started hallucinating everything. possibly made it all up. these boys were the fall guys in some way.”

“unbelievable!” danielle threw her hands up. “we don’t even do drugs!”

“you three popped positive for some hallucinogenic substances.”

“stop talking.” asa said.

the detectives went to say something, “not you.” asa looked at you and danielle, “we’re no longer victims, we’re suspects.”

“aw come on, we didn’t say that,”

“we all want a lawyer. now.”

“wouldn’t a lawyer make us seem guilty?”

asa shook her head. “at this time, it doesn’t even matter.”

you three ended up being separated into separate interrogation rooms, with your lawyers.

how did drugs end up in your system? the only thing you can think of is when jungwon fed you all. but wouldn’t you have felt the affects then?

nothing made sense. none of it did.

they claimed kelly’s car accident was an accident. although initially they thought was one car, a driver came forward claiming to be impaired when they caused the wreck and ran.

you mentioned maya. you probably shouldn’t have, but you did. still, the detectives had so call proof that the three were in a different country.

they looked through each of your apartments. no trace of spy gear or anything out of place. same with the so called farm you girls remembered. yes, owned by yang jungwon, but the caretaker said no one has been there for more than a month. since jungwon went on vacation with some high school friends.

of course maya’s remains wouldn’t be found. the pigs ate them. the wood chipper was clean as can be.

you ran your hand through your hair in frustration, pulling at its ends. “this is a fucking nightmare.” you cried.

one of the detectives came back into the room to give you and your lawyer paperwork for release.

you looked over the guy, eyes furrowing in focus. why did he look so familiar? then, your eyes went wide. you swallowed, fighting back more tears.

when you read his name tag, your thoughts were answered simply by reading the name.

kim sunoo.

yang jungwon’s cousin.

“you are free to go for now miss. don’t leave the country.” the guy smiled. almost mockingly he added, “stay safe!”

[vechter]

2024 WRITING REVIEW

tagged by @malinaa my beloved <3 tagging: @acediscowlng @androxys @burins @danishsweethearts @daringyounggrayson @mintchocochipsposts and anyone else who hasn't been tagged yet!!!

number of stories posted to ao3: i kinda went crazy in the second half of the year... 4 fics although 3 are one-shots

word counted posted for last year: 46,426 of which LBIA is a whopping 40,444 oops

fandoms i wrote for: dc comics

pairings: dickroy... my brand and my heart <3

stories with the most kudos, bookmarks and comment threads: look back in anger sweep with 432 kudos, 277 bookmarks and 71 comment threads

work i’m most proud of (and why): gotta be look back in anger just bc it was a huge undertaking... for the 2 months before i posted the first chapter, i was furiously consumed by thoughts of it every free moment... so to finally get it out was just a catharsis... relief and a moment of pride

work i’m least proud of (and why): angie, they can't say we never tried because it was just a way for me to avoid writing the final chapter of LBIA lmao and i think it kinda shows in the writing... like it feels like a very surface level read? it's sweet but it's just a bit lacklustre

share or describe a favorite review you received: anything mintchocochips comments bc she's so good at pinpointing the metaphors and the moments that are integral to the scene... like it rlly feels like she really considers each line with love and that's so, so wonderful to hear <3 also this one just hit me rlly hard too:

(special shoutout to lys's long-winded threats on shaking it off to find a higher low... consider me endeared and scared bb)

a time when writing was really, really hard: can i say this whole year... like fr the first half of this year was a LOT so i had ideas but they never came to fruition. also november. fuck that month.

a scene or character you wrote that surprised you: listen... i write what i love so anytime you guys see dickroy in my fics, it should not be a surprise. but the dick & garth scene in chapter 1 of LBIA was very fun for me bc we don't often see garth get the same love as the other members of the fab five (i'm guilty of it myself sadly)... and i just thought it was such a missed opportunity for them to connect and mull over their respective deaths + subsequent resurrections. so, to write that was really interesting bc i wanted the tether of the titans to be a different thing for them post-death.

a favourite excerpt of your writing:

i've posted a part of this before but i looove this section from it builds and builds and builds:

It’s exhausting trying to keep track of Dick’s faith in him. The glow of moments Dick will trust him implicitly, the gut-punch when Nightwing is implacable, even to him. He doesn’t know how Dick does it— how he lives like that, the uncontrolled chaos of his mind that can either be a deadly laser or an explosive bomb on a dime. There’s no pattern to it at all; Roy thought he knew all there was to know about fickleness after Ollie but Dick’s always proving him wrong. (The first lesson Oliver Queen taught him: when you pull back the bowstring, you learn how to let go.)

how did you grow as a writer last year: bro i regressed... i used to be capable of writing happy endings... i don't think i remember how to do that anymore. but tbh, i did get a lot into the visual considerations and rhetoric of prose + how it contributes to overall mood while reading. it's why LBIA is so fragmented and so densely littered with indents/parentheses.

how do you hope to grow this year: i need to write less vignette based stuff and focus more on building a flow of events in the same chunk of text... i would like to be capable of moving from point A to point B on screen itself.

who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer, beta, cheerleader, etc.): @dandeeliion elle you were the first person to really hear about LBIA and you're one of the main reasons i got the courage to put the fic out so you have my unending love and appreciation. also, @ekleiipsis for listening to all my rants... i love you mar <3 also big shoutout to the gc for just generally gassing me up and loving my writing it means the world 🥺

anything from your real life show up in your writing last year: hahahah... what if you had been performing your whole life and you didn't know who you were when that performance was taken away... what then

any new wisdom you can share with other writers: a first draft is a first draft no matter how shitty you may think it is

any projects you’re looking to starting (or finishing) this year: pre-flashpoint long fic with a focus on dick, donna and roy + their respective traumas during dickbats era/blackest night/rise of arsenal. also really want to write a dick and cass case fic where their individual strengths and weaknesses are highlighted... only for the power of teamwork to save them ultimately <3

[rheydhotts]

// The Missing Hour...

word count; 3.9k

♡ summary; we never got to see the hour of deleted footage that takes place after ekko saves jinx, so this is my take on what might have happened.

♡ contains; jinx × ekko/timebomb. mentions of isha, vi, caitlyn, claggor, mylo, ambessa, and powder.

♡ warnings; suicide attempts, self-harm and malnutrition, nudity.

SPOLIERS! for arcane season 2 (just incase)

The only way to break the cycle is to walk away. This was the right choice.

The thought replayed over and over again in her mind. As if to ease any worries or doubts. It was calming, unlike the other voices. A quiet chant that protected her from feeling anything. No more fear, no more pain, no more rage, and no happy endings.

She burned all things from her past and it made her wonder. She’s not proud of it and there’s no difference made by harboring, but she did. Maybe if she stayed away like Vi told her. Maybe when she, Claggor, and Mylo were getting punked for their loot, she should’ve taken a punch. Maybe if she didn’t take those stupid crystals. Maybe if she never existed at all, none of this would’ve happened. It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done. There’s no redo button and besides, Jinx wasn’t going to be around for much longer. Her finger was on the pin.

This was the right choice.

“Wait!” A voice called to her. It’s loud and urgent. And it startles her. Just a bit. Her head tilts to look at him. It looked like Ekko.

“I just wanna talk to y-”

“Get out of here, Ekko.”

She pulls the pin again. The first time was terrifying to him. A drastic shift in narrative, it was. He had just come back from his version of paradise. Zaun, the Undercity, was thriving. Almost everyone was alive, and happy. He had Powder. Now, Jinx was trying to kill herself. This wasn’t the first time she tried to take out the both of them. As if he could ever forget that night on the bridge. That night where she looked so…vulnerable. At peace with him as her company. Here, she looked numb. She looked different. That blue hair hacked off at the base of her neck and her eyes lacked sleep with tears stains painting her pale cheeks. Her eyes were shut as she let herself drift into death, that was before she saw him. This time she was ready to get it over with. The explosion sent him back a few feet. With a tug of the pull string, the Z-drive took him back to 4 seconds ago.

“I just wanna talk to you, Pow-”

Shit. He thought.

“Jinx.”

In her last moments her mind keeps taunting her. Playing cruel tricks to make her feel like dirt before she goes. Well not this time. “You’re too late, Ekko.”

“Always a dance with you.” He chuckles. He cuts her off before she can pull the pin.

She turns to him. Somehow, he looks more beat up than before. He’s bloody and bruised with burn marks lacerating his skin. Steam wafts from him.

“I think, I’m just gonna sit here a minute.” He takes a step back and drops to the floor. He sits on the step to the middle of her lair. “Y’know, catch my breath. See if I can try to talk an old friend out of blowing us up.” His breaths are heavy. As if he ran from enforcers.

Jinx’s eyes shift with a sudden realization. This was Ekko. The real Ekko. Not some eloquently crafted hallucination. And she almost killed him too. He didn’t deserve that. Unlike her, he had so much to live for. The boy savior.

Her gaze stops on the bomb in her grasp. It weighs a good bit. His eyes flash with charged energy. Jinx’s grip on the pin releases. A tiny shift in her thumb’s positioning, it was all the movement she could muster. “I’m tired of talking.” She brings the mechanical monkey to her chest and leans forward, off the edge of the propeller.

“NO!” Ekko reaches out for her. His other hand, instinctively, tugs back the pull string before he realizes it. The Z-drive takes them back. That was the 5th time he had to watch her try. Jinx was determined. She barely even gave him a chance, a second of silence was the deciding factor of whether she went boom. Ekko couldn't stand the sight, but he would try a million times over to get it right.

“Y’know, I learned from someone…”

Jinx turns back to him. He's closer to her now. Somehow he managed to sneak up on her. Her eyes widened with curiosity and her tense shoulders dropped. He had her full attention.

“...very special…that no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new.” For a second, their eyes meet before something draws her anyway from him. Jinx looks down at the Z-drive. The ring of crazy-looking monkeys spinning slightly at the bottom intrigued her. It looked like something she would craft. But it wasn't exactly Jinx.

Ekko follows her leering trail before once again looking at her. “Someone worth building it for.” He adds.

Slowly. Very slowly. Her eyes find their way back to his. Now that he was this close, he saw just how tired she looked. Her irises lacked that insane mania. They were glowing a dim pink rather than blue. What happened to her since the bridge? He thought.

His feet move on their own. She was looking at the bomb once again. He wanted to pull a hand on her shoulder but instead he reached out in front of her. Jinx hesitates, a momentary pause in her breathing makes her shoulders freeze. “It's okay.” Ekko eases her. His voice is quiet and patient. A stark contrast to earlier. With that, she lets the bomb drop into his palm and he disarms it. He sets the monkey down and pockets the hextech crystal.

Why? Why are you doing this? You need to break the cycle. Why won't you break the cycle? Why won't you die?

The soft sounds of Jinx’s choked up sobs catches his attention. Her body is rigid and she's using what's left of her hair to cover her face. She bites her lip to keep quiet but it's not enough. The cracks in the dry flesh start to leak blood.

“Uh…I don’t know what…Uh-” Ekko reaches for her, then pulls back, then reaches for her again. Not knowing if he should touch her or not. Do something, idiot. He thinks before finally making a decision. With a gentle hold on her shoulders, he guides her body to be parallel to his. His hands make their way to her face, lingering softly on the apples of her cheeks. She’s so cold and thin. It makes him sick knowing that if things were different, maybe if he did something different, she wouldn’t have to be like this. Ekko’s thumb softly wiped away her tears. Jinx couldn’t take it anymore. Her shield, the numbness, was gone. She felt everything, and she hated it.

“Oh! Okay. This is cool…” Ekko mutters to himself as he sinks into Jinx’s hug. She was absolutely wailing into his shoulder. Her nails dug deep into the flesh of his back, it hurt, but Ekko would rather her claw him until he was practically skinned than let her go. She’s choking, hiccuping and the tears just won’t stop. She hates it. She hates it. She hates it. She. Hates. It.

Ekko can feel the shift behind his back. The digging stopped but her hands were still there. He heard scratching. Violent scratching.

“Hey. No.” Ekko grabs her arms and holds them out in front of the two. They were bloody and abraded. Bits of her dull, ashen skin stuck out from underneath her chipped nails. Jinx tries to free herself from his hold, her hands desperately trying to find their way back to each other, but she’s too weak. Just standing up is making her feel dizzy.

“C’mon. Over here.” Slowly, he guides her to the center of her hideout. Where she couldn’t plummet the both of them to their imminent death. Jinx drags her feet. “That's it. Almost there.” Ekko takes a seat with his back propped against the iron railings. “C'mere.” He pulls her down to meet him on the floor, pulls her into another hug. Ekko tucks his chin on the top of her head, his grip on her arms never faltering. “I'm not letting you go.” He says.

They stay there, her in his embrace and he as her protector. It feels like an eternity being here together and Ekko savors every last second. Slowly breathing, their chests rise and fall against the other. Easing into a steady rhythm. Jinx was calmer now. Her blubbering diminished into a soft snivel. He’ll admit, the snot, tear and slobber combo in the crease of his neck was gross, but he wasn't going to tell her that.

“Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?” Ekko doesn't move, in fact, he’s extremely still. He waits for her to give some sort of response. Jinx nods and he gently moves her to the side. She weighs less than a bag of tomatoes. Ekko stands up, stretching his lower back before surveying the area. Jinx didn’t have much to work with. There wasn’t even a bathroom here but there was a half empty water bottle and a rag on her desk, it was good enough. Ekko grabs the items before making his way back to her. She sat there like a ragdoll. It was scary just how still she could be. Her eyes lacked all focus and he would’ve thought she was dead if it weren’t for the gently expanding of her ribcage.

He wiped himself down first, all that mucus was a sensory nightmare. Then he got to work cleaning her face of the ash, soot and dirt, then her neck. His face felt hotter as he wiped down the sides of her ribs and back through the cutoffs of her top. After all, she’s still a girl.

“Uh, Jinx?”

“Hm?”

“You think you can…uh- clean the rest of you?” Ekko holds out the rag for her. Jinx looks at him, humming in compliance, she begins to work her way out of the leather. Undoing the belt at the bottom causes the entire thing to come loose. Now it just looked like a really short poncho. Ekko quickly turns around, feeling liquid heat rising to his ears. After a few moments, curiosity gets the better of him and he takes a quick peak. She was turned with her bare back facing him too. Jinx leisurely cleaned her chest of any grime before moving to her arms. There’s a reflective glint that hits him in the eye when she makes work with the rag on her right shoulder.

“What happened to your finger?” Ekko couldn’t help but ask.

“Caitlyn,” Jinx says. She didn’t spare him a glance, all of her focus was on cleaning herself.

“The topsider?” His voice raised in volume, echoing off the metal area.

“Yup. Shot it clean off.”

“Why?”

“She wanted me dead but her aim is shit. I don’t blame her. I killed her mom.”

Ekko was fully facing her now. “Caitlyn was here. In Zaun.” He presses a finger to the ground to accentuate his point.

“Mhm. With her little enforcer friends.” Ekko was livid. How long had he been gone for? It couldn’t have been that long. He’s gone for what? Maybe a few months and this is what happens?

“Gassing the streets with Grey, the whole debacle.” Jinx continues.

“What?”

“Vi joined them too.”

“What!” Ekko slammed his fist on the propeller blade. “Are you kidding me?! Vi?! Buddy-buddy with the Piltie-goons? The same people that hunt our people down for sport?”

“The same people that killed mom and dad. Yeah.” Jinx stops what she was doing. She looks over her shoulder at him. “Yeah, it hurt me too.” She smiles. It wasn’t a Jinx smile. It wasn’t even a real smile. Just a small, weak, hurt smile.

“I’m gonna kill her.” Ekko stands up and paces around in a small circle. “I alway knew she was stupid but I didn’t think she was dumb. Why would she do that? I don’t get it.” Ekko was almost ripping the locks out of his head. He keeps rambling on about Vi and her idioctic actions.

“There’s gonna be a war.” Jinx cuts through his thoughts. He turns to her. Somewhere between his death threats, she started to clean her lower half. She was fully naked now. He turns away, eyes wide with embarrassment. “Or something.” She continues.

“A war?”

“Yeah. Vi asked me to help out but…”

“With who? For what?” Ekko was a machine gun of questions. Rapid-fire, one after the other. There was so much he missed.

“Ambessa and her army against Piltover, I guess.” He could hear the soft patters of her footsteps behind him. She was getting closer. Ekko turned away just as she passed him, clearing his throat before speaking once again.

“And for what?” He reiterates.

Jinx shrugs with a soft hum. She grabs some bandages from the desk. “No clue, little man.”

“What?” He turns to her, not even realizing it. Jinx was already in the process of wrapping her chest with the more than a bit dirty bindings, so luckily he didn’t see anything. Still, the possibility that he could've made him flustered. Ekko made an effort not to look any lower than her face. She was still half-naked. He clears his throat again. “Whaddya mean ‘no clue’?”

“I mean exactly that. Can't be nothing good though. Lots of people died already.” Jinx’s mind wanders to the events of yesterday. Isha. She thought. And they weren't good thoughts. Isha, her little soldier. That little army girl. That blasted fool. Jinx felt familiar tears clouding her vision. The same ones she cried when that kid ran through the crowd, when she lifted the gun. Isha was dead once the second crystal was put in its chamber. And she died saving them. She died saving her. They never got their rematch.

Jinx sniffles and wipes the small rivulets of water from her eyes. “Someone worth building it for,” She mumbles. She was finished clothing her chest. Isha sacrificed herself so that she could live, and she was going to waste it, throw it away like it was meaningless. Fat chance. “Suit up, wonder boy,” She starts, walking up to Ekko and pulling him in close, “because we have a war to fight.”

“Seriously?” He grabs her arms but he’s unmoving, not closing any gaps but not making an effort to pull away either. “You are in no condition to fight anything.”

“I’ve been worse than this.” She retorts, releasing herself from his grasp, “And I remember kicking your butt no problem. A few Noxuians ain’t nothing.” She walks past him with a swat of his shoulder.

“You’re a bag of bones.” He spins on his heel, offended by her arrogance, “Also I beat you into the ground on that bridge.”

“Blah-blah-blah.” She was rummaging through a mess of discarded fabrics, trinkets, and whatever other crap she has lying around.

“Why the sudden urge to fight now anyways?”

“I had a kid. Her name was Isha. And she died because of what they did. So I’m going to avenge her.” She pulls out a pair of black leather pants like some sort of rabbit-in-a-hat trick.

“You had a kid?” She slips into the pants and buckles its three intricate belts. They sat higher than her previous pair but the exaggerated hip windows made them just as revealing.

“You have ears? Geez, keep up.” Jinx sasses.

"Here." She tosses him a shirt. It was too big for her but still way too small for him, accounting for the muscle mass. He looks at it. Thick, deep greenish material with a thousand details in the patchworking. The shirt was jaggedly cut along the bottom with the left sleeve hacked off. It might have been longer in the past but right now, it was a crop top. Ekko curls his lip and raises an eyebrow. Jinx smiles. “You got a killer body, show it off.”

Ekko scoffs.

“Did you make this yourself?” He holds up the holy amalgamation of cloth. Examining the shoddy stitch work.

“Yeah, I have a talent for craftsmanship.” Jinx grins, sifting through even more bits and pieces of clothing.

“I just wanted to say I could tell. Your style choices are questionable.” Ekko rids himself of his own attire. He places down the Z-drive.

“Says the guy wearing an oversized bib.” She snorts.

“It's a smock!” He says just as he finishes removing it, it was the second thing to go after the scarf.

“It's an apron.” Jinx was nearly fully dressed. Somehow she managed to find a piece of brown leather similar to a pauldron, gloves—way too many gloves—and she was currently sewing shark teeth onto a purple hood.

He freezes. Ekko couldn't argue with that.

“That's what I thought.” She muses, happy with herself for winning their little back and forth. “Now can it and get dressed. I need to focus.”

“What? No pants?” He jokes, putting on the shirt she gave him. He was used to his tank top and thick waist belt so the air hitting against his abs was a weird sensation. It did fit him better than he thought it would.

“Don't get greedy.” Jinx snarks. Ekko rolls his eyes and walks up to the desk. He looks for whatever he thinks might fit him. Is all she owns leather? It takes him a minute but eventually he finds something. It wasn’t leather—surprisingly—with a purple strap wrapping around the right thigh and a ridiculous looking belt and side pouch. Ekko couldn't figure out where one strap ended and another began.

He took the opportunity to quickly put the contraption on, alongside a few other accessories, while Jinx was focused on her arts and crafts project. He gets stuck a few times but eventually manages to wiggle himself in. They were a bit small but the material used gave them some stretch, so they weren't that bad.

“Here.” Jinx hands him a red scarf, “It’s like your old one but red.”

Ekko takes it, “Why can't I just wear my old one?” Jinx shrugs. Ekko rolls his eyes and puts the scarf on anyway. His guard drops for a second, he’s hit with a strong pressure followed by a wet feeling. He looks down to see a paint splatter right in the middle of his chest. When he looks back, Jinx is holding out her old paint gun. The one she used during their stand-offs. A shit-eatting grin plastered on her lips. “Really?”

She tosses him the gun. Her arms spread out wide when he catches it. “Go on, do me.”

Ekko scoffs before chuckling. He holds up the gun to shoot.

“Your stance sucks,” Jinx coughs into her fist before going back to as she was. Acting as if nothing had happened.

“This is how you stand!”

“No I do not!”

“Yes it is! This is exactly how your stance is.”

Jinx blows raspberries and Ekko shoots her in the shoulder. “Wow, your aim sucks!” She laughs. Ekko scoffs and throws back the gun. She catches it and sets it aside. Climbing her desk to the high levels of her hideout, Jinx dips her fingers into buckets of paint before charging him. She manages to pin Ekko down and smear a large X across the front of his shirt. She continues to draw on him, his hands naturally falling on the curve of her waist. Once she's bored with painting him, she gets up to paint herself.

“Grab a paintbrush, little man. There's some spots I can't reach.” Ekko snaps out of his trance.

“Uh…sure.” He stands from his spot on the floor and walks to find the brushes she was talking about.

Jinx's eyes fell on the piece of junk Ekko had carried with him. Little monkeys still dancing at the bottom. From someone very special. She pondered on the thought. She had a hypothesis, although it was out there, she couldn't think of any other explanation. “Who taught you that?” Jinx called out. Ekko had found the painting equipment and was making his way back to her.

“What?” He sat back down. Buckets of green, pink, purple, blue paint splattered as they hit the ground.

“You said, some told you, ‘that no matter what happened in the past, it’s never too late to build something new’. Who was it?” She stopped her artistry and devoted all of her attention to him. Ekko was a little freaked out by her simmer eyes, so intense and focused. He knew she knew. Jinx, Powder, had always been frustratingly smart. He looks at the Z-drive, watching how the monkeys spin.

“Powder.” He said. Jinx hummed, her suspicions were confirmed. Now a whole other can of worms were opened. How?

Ekko saw it in her eyes, and with a sigh he began to explain it. He started to paint her as well. Stars, crowns, a plethora of tiny X's. Jinx painted tally marks. He had no clue what they meant but knowing her, most likely nothing. Saying his adventures out loud really made him understand just how crazy this whole thing sounds, but Jinx listens to every word. Nodding along and asking clarifying questions.

“Then we created this and I came home.” Ekko was long done with his drawings. He hauls his device into his lap.

“What does it do?” Jinx taps her nail against the glass in blunt curiosity.

Ekko chuckles at the question. “It's a time loop.”

“A huh?” She looks at Ekko as if he was stupid.

“A. Time. Loop.” He leans in close to her, gritting his teeth.

“That's impossible.” Jinx dismisses.

“And reality hopping isn’t?”

She grumbles, a low growl within the depths of her chest. Now she was the one who couldn’t argue. “I guess it's cool.” Jinx picked up a paintbrush dipped in light green. On her arm, she decorates a shape similar to an hourglass. Though, it was a bit hard to see since underneath it was more layers of colors and a cloud tattoo. She smiles then extends the arm to him, giving Ekko a better look.

“A tribute to the boy who shattered time.”

Ekko was stunned. She basically just marked herself and didn't think anything of it. He inhales, “So are we ready now?”

“Nope. Just one more thing.” Jinx zips past him and grabs a dull pair of scissors. She begins to cut. One chunk at a time, she cuts until she can no longer run her fingers through. She would’ve been completely buzzed if she hadn't kept the front bang, which she dyed a streak into with leftover pink paint. “Tada!” She turns to him, “Whaddya think?”

Ekko was speechless as he took her all in. His silence worried her. He stepped closer and she turned to look in her cracked mirror again. “Look. I know I'm not the best hairdresser in the world but I don't think it's that bad‐” Jinx was cut off by Ekko’s hand lightly gripping her jaw. He turns her head to face him. Cool paint feels wet on the under of her eyes as he drags the paintbrush over her skin.

“Go big or go home.” He mumbles. Jinx smiles, finding herself sinking into his touch. He pulls away, “Now how are we gonna get to Piltover anyway?” Ekko crossed his arms and leaned a hip against her makeshift vanity. Jinx clicks her tongue. She hadn’t thought of that. There weren't many options. The perimeter would most likely be surrounded by enforcers or brutish Noxians. She taps her foot in thought. The clanging resonance of her boot hitting the metal propeller below her popped a wicked idea. Jinx’s eyes lit up with excitement. She’d always wanted to fly an aircraft. This was the closest she was gonna get.

“How good are you at manufacturing?” She grins.

♡ Author's note — this was extremely hard to write. their were a lot of questions Arcane brought up that i needed to make up answers to lol. so sorry if it doesn't make the most sense, i did the best with what i had. (OMG I FINISHED MY FIRST FIC, YAY !) — xoxo, rheyd.

p.s. i got lazy towards the end oops–

[paddlescuddlesbubblesgurgles]

ugh I’ve really went off the deep end. Had the best orgasm last night about the idea of walking in on my feedee submissive having eaten all the snacks for the month at once, and she’s so full she can’t even talk really, or get up off her seat on the floor. She’s leaned up against the wall of the cupboard closet, panting and trying to soothe her overladen, overfed gut. Packaging is strewn about, but not a crumb remains. Perhaps chocolate is smeared on her skin, but she’s made sure to stuff all the food down. The shelves are barren, and empty. Even the upmost top ones she can’t normally reach.

I just berate and degrade her…calling her names and inspecting her gigantic belly. Quickly it turns to praise and encouragement, and enabling. The whole time she just is gasping and barely getting out words as I pleasure her. I rub over all her layered fat. She’s already so heavy and layered in blubbery lard.…but she has to have more. I need her to have more.

I need to get a girl to overfeed and fatten and pleasure. I literally orgasmed to the THOUGHT of it. Not a specific scene or story or even picture, just a SITUATION IN MY HEAD. I’ve gone too far into this lust now lol

[deansbbyx]

I know this isn’t my usual program but I thought I’d reflect on what has happened in the last year for me. 2024 was the year filled with conventions & a lot of traveling. Whether it was a road trip to New Jersey for a supernatural convention or flying overseas to Portugal to say goodbye to my family’s home. I am truly grateful that I have been able to travel to meet my idols. It has been such a blast not only meeting them but I am lucky enough that my friends got to be there with me. Making memories with each other and seeing one another’s experiences.

SpnNj24- This was my second con I have ever gone to. These are some of my favorite photos I took that weekend. The experiences I had this time around were truly out of a fanfic. Jensen Ackles the man that you are 😩😮‍💨 (I’ll never be able to normal abt him…ever) Briana & Kim my comfort people. They are the moment, they are the light at the end of the darkest tunnel. Misha Collins…After meeting you idk if you were in character when you portrayed Castiel raising Dean Winchester from perdition. Good god man you got a GRIP 😏

FWB OTH turns 21- I was in Portugal when I found out Danneel was going to be in Wilmington NC a month later. The day I flew back home I bought my tickets and went. This my first time properly meeting her. She’s so funny and sweet. We talked for a good time during autos. Been a fan since I was 14 prior to my spn days. So this was very surreal. (I loved you first)

BostonExpo, Fwb OTH turns 21, & RICC- If little Carina could see me now she would think I’m the coolest girl ever. Meeting the people who have been apart of my childhood healed something within me. Grey was the cutest human ever. She was so excited that someone dressed as daphne. (Apparently I was the only one that day.) I wish I had more time with her but she had such a long line. Peter…Carlisle….THAT MAN!!! I love him your honor. So respectful and so sweet. The man asked if he could hug me….HELLO?! Matthew is an amazing hugger. Asked him for a bear hug and he squeezed me so tight. I regret nothing. Ending my night by being the last person in Giancarlo’s line AND him calling me beautiful was something I never expected. Meeting Hilly from Hillywood, Shantell (My Quinn) & Emmanuelle (beloved Madison) was such a fun experience too! Can’t for get Sam Witwer my favorite vampire.

SpnOrl24-Last but certainly not least! I am so happy I got to end the year with this convention. Everyone that we took pictures with were such troopers. (I’m looking at you Jensen & Jeff) We had a lot to do; between photo ops (almost missed two), outfit changes, meet & greets…we made it through. I admire and respect these men so much. They are conscious of putting in the effort to make sure they’re there for us. I am so grateful. I love them dearly. This one for sure going down in the books. (I mean cmon smooches knows my name now 😵‍💫)

Thank you 2024 for letting me grow & heal. Cheers to 2025, I’m manifesting that I’ll get to blossom and shine after all the hard work I did last year.

I hope you all get to live your dreams this new year (even if it’s just for a little.) and heal that inner child of yours.

[rubyvhs]

who’d believe? | dean winchester

summary. dean finds you six years after you ‘died’. tags. wc 2.3k, car sex (just fingering), angst, mentions soulless sam. lailas notes. actually got inspired by @little-diable ‘s not a ghost fic. so so beautiful and i think everyone should go read it! additionally this is for my 500 celebration, so happy i got to it so quickly && the title is the translation of the song title. and most importantly, beta’d by the incredible @copperboom82 who made it much more readable and enjoyable.

You were never really a bar type of person, mostly because of the loud noise and smell, other than that, you liked a good party. But you decided you needed to celebrate getting your dream job, or, okay, whatever, your friend is forcing you to. 

"I'm not taking no for an answer," she said, handed you your outfit and went outside to get the car started, not even giving you time to reject the idea. Though the second you stepped foot in the lively place, you were glad you came.

The drinks and music were exactly what you needed; a nice night out with no responsibilities. And especially no men (at least none like those you work with, you're honestly over them). 

An hour into dancing with your friend, two more strangers join you. When the last song ends and another less 'pop' and more 'rock' one starts, they suggest going out to smoke for a second. Despite not once in your life trying it, you agree. 

You should really work on saying no.

Thankfully you're sensible enough to refuse when they try to hand you one, just standing next to them, linking your arm with your friend's. "Where do you work?" You ask one of the girls. She has shorter red hair that almost reaches her shoulders, black eyeliner and a septum piercing. In other words? Fucking sexy.

"Police." Your eyes widen and you stand up straighter. "Oh, stop it! You're fine."

You laugh but shake your head, "No, no, that's not what I meant, you're just so— cute, I guess. Wouldn't have taken you for the assertive cop type."

"Yeah, well," she shrugs, dismissing the thought. It's obvious she gets it a lot. "Saw the hottest guys today, by the way—"

Her friend interrupts, beautiful brown pin-straight hair, pale skin, a gorgeous smile; "God, he was pretty. And his brother too…”

"Oh yeah. Agent something and Agent whatever, I don't remember, I was too busy looking through the shorter one’s shirt." You all laugh, a sway in your demeanor. You're pretty sure it's the alcohol that's got them saying all this but it's funny either way. 

"Yeah, he was amazing. Like, those green eyes, honestly—" Your smile drops fast. Green eyes had always been somewhat of a trigger for you ever since Dean, especially that specific beautiful shade. Then again honestly everything's been a trigger: hunting, black cars, vintage cars, food, pie— you could go on.

"Oh and the way he walks? The little outward bounce of his leg, so cute!"

You shift, a little uncomfortable. How many guys do you know with bow legs, green eyes and are cops? They're probably not allowed to tell you he's FBI. 

The red-haired girl touches your arm making you jump. "Shit, you okay, honey? You seemed out of it."

"Oh, no, I'm sorry, just reminded me of someone. Old…" Dean. 

There he is. Alive and in the flesh. You don't become a hunter and not hear about the Winchesters, you, on the other hand, fly under the radar. Especially since you try to stay away from any and all hunters.

But you heard nothing of how gorgeous he has grown up.

The girls catch your drift mid-sentence and look back to see what you're staring at. A dumb-struck Dean. "Oh! Agent…" Her friend elbows her stomach and Dean doesn’t peel his eyes off of you to speak.

"Right, yes. Hi, Officer." 

She blushes under the dim light but Dean apologizes before breezing past them and holding your arm roughly to drag you away behind the bar. Your friend makes sure to motion to you if you need help before you let her know she should just get back inside. It’s pretty damn obvious you know the guy.

"Are you fucking serious?"

You let out a shy smile, "Dean, hey, how are you?"

"'How are you?'" He mocks, letting go of your arm aggressively, "'how are you?'"

"Is that not what they say anymore?"

"Are you serious?" He seems to enjoy repeating sentences much more than when you last saw him. "I looked for you, I mourned you." You mourned him too, in a way. 

You and Dean were acquaintances, occasionally hunting together until you stayed at Bobby's place for a week and he came to visit coincidentally. You both started talking more that night, exchanged phone numbers and became somewhat friends. 

Sam left for Stanford and you guys stayed together more frequently. Sam came back and you 'died'. Not on purpose, obviously, but Dean thought you died. You did, for a second, before you were brought back for some twisted, fucked up reason. Not that you knew it but if you did you're sure it would be fucked up.

By the time you woke up Sam and Dean had been long gone and your body had been buried. Didn’t burn your bones like he should’ve, no. He buried you. You're not sure which is worse.

"Look, I don't know what happened—"

"What does that even mean? You magically come back to life; you fucking call me! Ever thought of that?" A thousand times. 

But Sam had finally decided to come back and hunt with Dean, Dean buried you, and so, you'd reasoned he was fine. You knew that if you were Sam, your body would've been preserved in the Impala for months before he'd ever allow himself to do that, to put you six feet under. The fact that he didn’t hold on to you had to mean he was okay.

But neither of you deserve more guilt. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"That's really rich. Real rich comin' from you. Grieved you for goddamn years. Six." Huh, that's a lot longer than you’d have thought. You were sure it would be six minutes. You knew he cared about you, but Deans also a 'what's done is done' kind of man.

"I'm—"

"If you apologize, I'll kill you. Again." You're about to crack a joke but his glare sets you off. Oookay, tough crowd, whatever. 

"I wanted to call, I swear I did," how do you explain to the king of 'I don't deserve good' that you don't deserve him. He'll think it's a cruel joke. "I didn't know if you'd want me to reach out, I thought you were moving on with Sammy, okay? Going on with finding John. Me calling wouldn't have made a difference."

He scoffs, shaking his head. "I went to hell." You bite your bottom lip between your teeth. He sighs, a mix of emotions on his face. "You knew?" Your nod makes him turn around in anger (disappointment? hurt?), kicking the cardboard box as far as it'll go, another plastic one breaks and you flinch at that one. 

In your defense, everyone knows.

"I couldn't do that to you and Sam, you moved on, Dean, I heard about you and Lisa and Ben—"

"Where the hell did you hear that?" Hunters talk. And he knows it. He turns around in an angry haze. "I didn't fuckin' move on, alright? I did what Sam wanted me to do when I didn't have you. Because my goddamn brother was in a cage with Lucifer, and now he's walking around without a soul!" He raises his voice until it gives out and so does his breath. You can't help the way your heart clenches, not even because of the words, but the tired look behind Dean's eyes. 

Subconsciously, you move forward until you can hug him, and like he always used to: Dean throws himself into it, his head in your neck as he breathes you in. "I missed you." He whispers. 

You don't believe how easily he's adjusted to this. If you were in his place you wouldn't hesitate to kill him, thinking he's a demon or a shifter.

He chuckles, his whole body rubbing against you. "Haven't hugged anyone like this in— ever. Was waiting for you." 

He's never been safe, always made everyone else feel protected, you could only hope you built a safe place within yourself for him. You're at least close.

"I missed you too, De. Every single day, I swear."

You don't know what about the sentence sparks anything in him, but it does. He pulls away to smirk and push you against the hard wall. You gasp, doing nothing but turning him on more and giving him an entrance to your mouth. 

He kisses you like he's lost his mind. He has.

His touch is electric as he pulls you closer, the heat of his body searing your skin, the raw intensity of desire saying more than words ever could. The kiss evolves, turning feral, almost carnal. He holds you, firm but tender, and rediscovers your mouth like a starving man. He is, he hasn't tasted you in… ever. 

This is your first kiss with Dean, but the explosive chemistry between you makes the blood scream in your ears. It was never a secret that you and Dean were more than just hunters to each other, and it seems you dying was his last straw. 

"We— Dean, can't here—" 

He agrees. Or he doesn't. He's still kissing you and you're not sure if either of you are breathing. 

Eventually he lets go. "Yeah," he whispers against your lips, moving for another kiss, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth, leaving a peck and panting out, "right." 

"'M sorry." God, why are you apologizing? Why are your bodies so far away?

He shakes his head, moves away (even if it looks like he's struggling to do so), "it's fine, what— you were here with friends? Are you staying?"

"Are you asking me to not stay?" 

He smiles, leans down for another kiss and you decide to say goodbye to your friends now or else you're never getting the chance. 

"De, someone can see—"

"Don't overthink it." He says, burying his head between your breasts, kissing, biting, licking and loving all the noises you're making. He groans into your skin, nipping at a particularly sensitive spot that has you moaning out loud. "God, sweetheart, love that sound."

He moves his hands to your waist, thrusts his hips once, checking your reaction. A little tremor passes through you. Eyes hood over. 

"Can't believe you're here, and all for me." 

"Yes," you breathe, resting your forehead against Dean's, overwhelmed by his words and how close his hand is to your inner thigh. "Please."

"If I slide my hand up your skirt, will I find you dripping wet for me?" Another shudder shakes you gently. 

"Yes."

When he grips your knee and your neck, closing your lips with a kiss while his other hand travels higher, you start feeling your pulse hammering in your ears. The windows start misting over, giving you privacy— not that you particularly believe Dean cares. 

Dean moves his seat back, then pushes you until your shoulder blades hit the steering wheel so you're more comfortable, your legs bent on either side of him, hands braced against the door and his chest. 

"Dreamed about this," He says, his voice low and husky. The way his eyes are raking over your body, you're not even sure you're supposed to hear him. "Thought about this everyday for six years, sweetheart. Now I get to have you." 

He glides one finger between your lips, sliding up and down slowly. “Such a pretty pussy,” he groans, eyes focused between your legs and you fall over, your head on his chest, before he pushes you back against the steering wheel, "nu-uh, wanna see it. Wanna see how wet you are for me, baby."

You have so much to say— a lot of apologies and 'I miss you's’ and so many more beautiful words and kisses and you want to tell Dean that you care about him as much as he does you and why you left—

He dips two fingers inside you. Curls them immediately, and just like that, he finds your most sensitive spot. 

You half pant, half moan, the words 'Dean, oh my god, please' a jumbled drowned-out mishmash because he starts torturing your clit, his thumb rubbing perfect circles, hard and fast, reducing your bones to liquid. But when you're right there, he eases away, lazily pumping two fingers in and out. 

He smiles, exhaling a content breath as his gaze zeroes between your thighs, ignoring your pleas. "Yeah? you wanna come, darlin’?" the pet name and the question both bring out a loud moan you didn’t know you were holding, your hips involuntarily moving against his fingers until he stops you. you’re about to whine again but he increases the pace, crooking his fingers inside you while his thumb rubs your clit, and that’s all it takes.

The orgasm rips through you, powerful, relentless, so intense you think you might just black out. You’ve never felt so boneless in someone's arms, until your head falls right into his chest as he works your pussy, the sensation easing off and then coming again like waves crashing against the shore.

Dean doesn't stop. His fingers are rough, his thumb still being put to good use, and the release lasts so long. So fucking long you think you have an out-of-body experience. 

It takes a minute until you're able to breathe anything but his cologne. When you can, you sit up slightly and move into the seat next to him, thankful for the lack of a console to separate you since you don't get very far, just lay your head on his chest. 

He kisses your head. You can even feel his smile against the kiss until you notice the bulge of his pants and frown. You quickly get up and Dean's entire face falls. "I'm sorry, I didn't think—" 

Dean grabs your wrist before it makes it halfway to his dick. "This isn't an exchange, sweetheart." Your entire body is like jelly, you can't move and you're pretty sure if you try sucking Dean off, you’ll pass out. But it feels… rude. "You're spent. I'll get you home so you can take a hot shower, and we'll pick this up again when you're ready. How about that?" 

You can't fucking believe your luck. Dean wants an 'again'.