#THEY DID SO GOOD MAKING EVERYONE SO EXPRESSIVE

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

[dcxdpdabbles]

It's all Fun and Games Kids! Part 2

#HolidayRequests First off absolutely love your work and I'm so happy to show that by sending my support. I am not at all requesting all three just one of them. So dealer's choice. Congratulations! It's Triplets!, It's all Fun and Games Kids, or the Missing Half

Danny was buying some groceries when five armed men rushed in and demanded everyone to get on the ground. He stood by the milk, watching in fascination as the men gathered everyone near the back.

It didn't seem any of them were affiliated with big rouges, which could mean this was either a gang-related power grab or a couple of men looking for a quick buck.

They were likely taking hostages because they had messed up their big getaway and were now trying to make desperate leverage against law enforcement.

"I said get on the ground!" A man shouts behind Danny seconds before he is smacked with the butt of a gun. He hits the ground with a slight oof, but otherwise, he is okay. The same can't be said for his milk carton.

It splats in one large puddle, landing on the side and ripping a hole in the bottom corner. Hmm, that was a cheap carton. He should consider switching over to a different brand. He is then dragged to his feet and led towards a group of cowering people.

They were pushed against the vegetable bins and ordered to sit right under them so their backs were against the wood and the guards could limit their movement. It was brilliant, too, as being under the bins made it harder to see them for anyone attempting to rescue them.

Danny is shoved next to a trembling woman under the tomatoes, holding her hands against her mouth, muttering something low in Spanish. He doesn't know enough to translate what she says, but he figures it must be a prayer.

He offers her a smile. "First time?"

The look she sends him could have curdled dairy. He gives a small laugh, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. She returns to his prayers, and the two don't speak after that. Danny watches the armed men and realizes they're not new to this but aren't good at it.

These are the type of men who joined gangs for glory. The kind that would report violence at the drop of a hat and didn't care who they hurt in the process. Or worse, they enjoyed when they hurt people in the process, even if those people had nothing to do with them.

Danny frowns after a while, realizing that the men haven't looted them or emptied the cash registers. What were they after?

The store employees were all moved from the back of the store, their matching lime green uniforms an eye sore. They all wore the same horrified expressions as the group was forced to sit between the tomatoes and the onions.

The youngest one, a teenager who looked no older than eighteen, was wearing a black shirt with stripped lime lines, and Danny quickly figured out he was the manager. He was sobbing quietly, bruises on his face and around his neck indicating that the armed men had identified him as well.

Danny felt a spark of protective rage.

The manager sat beside Danny, so the Halfa scouted over, eyeing the men with the guns as he carefully slid his hand into the boy's palm. It was a testament to how scared the poor kid was when all he did was curl his fingers around his, tears rolling down his beaten face.

It made him wonder why, seeing as the other shoppers and employees did not have any indications that they had been attacked. It couldn't have been retaliation for trying to be a hero. No offense to the teenager, but he didn't strike Danny as someone brave or stupid enough to try to fight back.

If anyone, he looked more like someone who would hide in situations like these.

That's it. He realizes, watching how the men make head gestures at the manger. This isn't some off-chance hostage situation. This is a revenge plan. The kid's the target and these idiots are too low in command to realize it. No way they would have brought him out here if they did. Someone will come for him soon.

The teen had dark raven hair and the same pale skin as Danny, but his eyes were as black as coal compared to Danny's aqua blue. It might not work, but he was better equipped to handle whatever they threw at him until the bats or the police arrived.

He carefully lets go of the hand in his hold, running his fingers up the arm of the teen, keeping his eyes trained on the gunmen. He's doing it slowly, worried any sudden or fast moves will convince them to pull the triggers on their assault rifles.

The boy's breath hitches but thankfully doesn't blow their cover. The tremble in his limb has increased, and Danny wouldn't have felt bad about it had he not been on a time crunch. Eventually, his fingers brushed against the short sleeve of the manager's uniform.

"Listen carefully. You were just here to buy some groceries. You never worked here." He whispers, curling his fingers around the fabric and turning the polo shirt intangible. He pulls it right off the teenager's body in one quick swipe.

It slides off the boy's skin like water, and the second he slides it through him, Danny returns it to solid, letting it settle on top of his clothes. He quickly covers the teenager's naked chest with his own long-sleeve shirt, using the same method.

The boy's mouth drops, but he doesn't get a chance to respond before the armed men walk over to them. Danny pushes his head down, hoping to hide the bruises while hunting his own, using his hair to curtain his face.

Just in time, too, because the Halfa is yanked to his feet by two of the men, who sneer at him, and he lets the proper amount of whimpers when they backhand him and bang his head on the bin.

Danny is dragged out of the room while the third man threatens the people. He'll come back for them the second he has a chance.

"You thought you could hide in Gotham, Eric?" One of the men hisses, "After what your Daddy did? Half of my boys are rotting in cells for life because of him! "

Eric was likely in witness protection or had wronged a powerful man he shouldn't have. Maybe he was in an organized gang and had ratted someone out. There was no way Danny was letting these men get away.

They drag him towards the back, where a group of similarly dressed men and women are waiting. Glances at everything through his hair, wondering how long he had before someone realized they got the wrong person.

Maybe they wouldn't notice before they shoved him into the ain't oven; they were obviously planning on burning him in. Which would be the perfect place to shift into Phantom out of prying eyes. He had spent months chasing Batman as a regular love-stroke citizen.

He couldn't let all those dramatic swoons and pathetic flirtations go to waste by revealing he was a powerful meta now! Plus, how else would he be rescued by a hero if the man knew he could just do it himself?

He was forced to stand in the room with two guards gripping is his shoulders hard enough to bruise. Danny doesn't raise his gaze away from his shoes, so even though he knows someone is standing near the oven to give him a dramatic monologue, he won't look.

A minute passes before someone clicks their tongue.

"Nothing to say, brat!?" A kick to the back of his knees has Danny falling to his knees, gritting his teeth to stop himself from going ghost immediately. "Do you know what I'm going to-"

Whatever the man was going to say was cut off by a figure launching itself from the ceiling railing and kicking him in the back of the head.

Danny flinches as a body drops right next to him. There is a splash of blood as one of the men wails. Danny offers him a cheeky grin once the man rolls over and looks up into his face.

His wide eyes are stomped on by a dark boot surrounded by a fluttering cape, and the second pair of hands on his shoulder vanishes. Danny listens to the sound of battle, keeping his hair in his face and his eyes on his folded knees. He could get up and hide, but where would the fun be?

His favorite pass time has arrived.

"Are you alright?" The familiar voice growls, but Danny doesn't respond. It was too far away. The man needed to get closer.

Eventually, the boots and the cape returned to his line of vision, a hand slowly reaching for him, and Danny flung himself toward them. He must have caught the vigilante off guard because when Danny wrapped his arms around the legs, he did not dodge in time despite the jerk that indicated he was moving.

Dramatically, Dann wailed, still on his knees, pressing his cheek against a muscular thigh. "Batman! You saved me! I was so scard but you came to rescue me!"

A hand landed in his hair, pushing Danny away. That only made the ghost in him grin as he fought to hug the man closer. It must have been a shock to find that Danny had a lot of strength despite his young appearance.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you. I was so scared!" He bawls, hiccuping for good measure as he rubs his cheek against the meat of Batman's left vastus laterlis. The man must do insane squats.

"Get. Off." Batman grunts, now using both hands to try and push Danny away. It's too bad for him; Danny has super strength. "Let. Go!"

"Mr. Fenton, everything is alright! You don't have to be afraid. Please let Batman go." Spoiler shouts, appearing in Danny's line of sight. He almost breaks character to pout at her intrusion. He can't, though, as that would ruin the game. So he lets her gently pry off his arms and helps him to his feet.

He shoots Batman with looks of undying devotion, though, which might have actually made the Dark Knight shudder, and that was all he wanted in life.

"You have real bad luck, huh?" Spoiler comments, rubbing his back like a small, scared child.

"I just wanted some milk for my Oreos." He hiccups, wiping at his eye. He then ends a watery smile towards Batman, who is helping Red Robin and Robin secure the gang that had snuck into his city. "But I did get to see Tall, Dark, and Daddy, so today is not a total bust."

"I'm going to be sick," The girl in purple mutters under her breath, and Danny nearly loses it right then.

He is distracted by Eric rushing towards them, a look of hero worship on his face as he slams into Danny with a loud but sincere "Thank you!"

Phantom purrs from inside his protective core. He should shop here more often. This place is a riot.

[snapdougles]

okay so I'm gonna try keep this brief so I'm not here forever, but here's the thing, this isn't new, actually people have tried using computers for therapy since the 60s:

Meet ELIZA

ELIZA is a simple computer program that responds to questions it is asked in a way meant to emulate a therapist, it did this so well, even it's creator was concerned at how quickly people started to empathize with it and consider it to not be a machine but a sentient being.

Humans are really good at recognising human like traits, and latching on to them, we decide that things with traits like us, are humanlike like us, similiarly, things that lack those human traits, will have their humanlikeness diminished.

This is great at finding likeminded tribes, terrible at identifying any sort of truth though.

To start my next point, I'm just gonna preface it with yeah therapy is good, therapists are good, it's not an easy job, and therapy with a person probably better than with an 'AI', but saying 'bots' (i don't think AI is the right description here,) can't help is just not correct, as measurably, they can, and do.

One of the advantages of therapy is having someone to prompt you to think in ways that you aren't used to, therapists can't peer magically into peoples minds, they are prompting the patient to express their experience, and try to help them to realize things they might not be aware of

"And how does that make you feel?"

Immediate follow up, obviously therapists do way more than this, this isn't gonna help everyone, and it isn't gonna automatically solve problems, but a lot of the time people just need help reframing issues into terms that they can understand and deal with, and bots can help with that.

Whether you think this is good/bad, right/wrong or useful at all is up to you, but ruling it out as being non-functional because "ai bad" is bad praxis.

sources:

guys. please

[heavyhitterheaux]

How did wife feel about Joe buying the bat mobile?

She was NOT happy 😭😭

Especially since she had told him literally two weeks before that she was pregnant

Joe's eyes fluttered open from feeling the weight shift on the bed, meaning that his wife was awake. He was facing away from you and let his eyes adjust for a minute before turning around to face you. Once he did, he instantly saw that you were giving him a death glare.

“Uh? Princess? Good morning. Is everything okay?” He asked as the same expression remained on your face.

“Your name is not baby right now to me. It's Jos…”

“No! Don’t you dare say it.”

“Don't interrupt me, Joseph. Because I am pissed at you right now.” You told him as he looked around confused.

“What did I do? I literally just opened my eyes.”

“I will throw you across the room if you don't lose that attitude.”

“Baby! I don't have an attitude! I'm just confused as to why you're mad at me! Are you going to tell me what's wrong?” He asked as he sat up against the headboard.

“Why did I wake up at 2 in the morning to throw up because your children know absolutely no chill and I glance down at my phone to see a bombardment of text messages AND alerts having to do with my husband?”

“Well Hard Knocks premiered last night…. I did look pretty good if I do say so myself.”

“It's what you said on Hard Knocks that has me pissed off.”

Just then Joe had a realization.

He bought the BatMobile and forgot to tell you.

And the first thing after he said it to Ja'Marr and Tee was them asking the question if he had told you yet.

“Oh um… I forgot to mention that.”

“Joseph Lee. That thing costs 2.9 MILLION DOLLARS. HOW DO YOU JUST FORGET TO TELL YOUR WIFE!?”

“And Justin did mention that it wasn't the smartest financial decision…” He muttered and you continued staring at him.

“Hmm, is it going to come equipped with two car seats? Because you better figure out how to fit them in there.” You told him and he gave you a tight lipped smile.

“Well I don't get it for a year, I can always make a call and ask for adjustments. Who knows? They might be able to fit the car seats in there.” He answered but you did not look amused.

“You knew that you were going to be a father to twins and you still decided to buy it?”

“The opportunity was right there, babe! Like when am I going to have another chance like this!? And this was before I knew you were pregnant!”

"When we have no money to feed our kids, I'm going to tell them that daddy decided to buy a batmobile instead and that's why everyone's stomach is EMPTY."

"Okay little miss dramatic much."

"I'm about to tell Ja'Marr to come and get you because between me not sleeping and you buying things for 2.9 MILLION DOLLARS you are on my nerves."

"Just think about us fucking in the front seat."

"No. Stop trying to break my focus from me being mad at you."

"But is it working?"

"A little, but if you ask me again later, I'll deny it."

But she's obviously going to let him keep it despite how annoyed she is about the entire thing.

And now she's going to try and get her elephant 😭

[pbaz7]

CROSSING THE LINE — PART FIVE ♡

paige x azzi

word count: 7.3k

A/N: This one lowkey took me longer than usual because I tried to make sure I represented both of their situations accurately. You'll get some resolution in this but it's definitely not going to just be rainbows and sunshine forever. Please keep up the comments and reactions!! I love reading what you guys have to say.

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The air in Aaliyah’s suite was tense, a quiet hum of anticipation hanging over the room as the team started trickling in. A few of them had already claimed spots on the couch or floor and the TV was muted, some random game playing in the background, but nobody paid it any attention.

Ice and KK walked in together, loud as always, and Caroline entered not long after, her phone still in hand, followed by Amari who looked between them all with curious eyes. 

The moment the door clicked shut behind the last person Nika didn’t waste time. She pushed herself off the counter she was leaning against and addressed everyone. 

“They slept together.”

A stunned silence followed. 

“Who?” KK broke the silence first, confused without any context. Ice who was sitting next to her just smacked her on the head as it was obvious with who was missing from the room. 

Nika, confirming anyway, just said “Paige and Azzi.” Her voice was steady, but her expression reflected how serious the situation was with the two of them not talking. “Paige told me like an hour ago.” 

A chorus of reactions broke out, some shocked and others not surprised at all.

“I knew it,” Q muttered under her breath, earning an incredulous side glance from Ice.

“So why did this cause World War Two?” KK asked, raising an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t that be good news? Thought you were supposed to be a bundle of joy after doing the do.”

A chuckle escaped Nika as she continued, “Paige said Azzi was gone when she woke up. Like, left without a word, turned her phone off. And now they haven’t really talked since and it’s messier than it needs to be honestly.”

“Wait—what?” Ice sat up straighter. “Why the hell would Azzi do that?”

“Chill out,” Caroline interjected, her tone calm but firm. “We don’t know the full story. Don’t start judging before you do.”

The room went quiet again, but Nika’s gaze zeroed in on Caroline. Something about her reaction struck a chord.

“You know something, don’t you?” Nika’s question wasn’t accusatory, but it was sharp enough to get everyone else’s attention. “If you do, you need to tell us. We can’t help them if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Caroline hesitated, her fingers tightening around her phone. She glanced around the room, her lips pressing into a thin line as she debated whether to speak.

Aubrey, sitting cross-legged on the floor near the couch, leaned forward. “Come on, Car. We need to know. We barely scraped by last game and Geno was pissed, it’s only going to get harder from here. If we don’t fix whatever is going on between them, it’s going to fuck up the season.”

Caroline let out a heavy breath, her internal conflict evident. Azzi was one of her closest friends, and she knew how private Azzi was, especially about something as personal as this. But the situation was already affecting the team on and off the court and it had been almost a month. 

“Alright,” Caroline said slowly, her voice low. “Yes, Azzi left and asked me to take her to the airport, and trust me, I told her how stupid it was after she told me what happened. But she said she needed to, and I didn’t push her because she looked like she was about to fall apart.” She paused, shifting uncomfortably as all eyes were on her. “I don’t really know what happened while she was gone, just that when I picked her up from the airport when she got back she was... excited. I mean, I hadn’t seen her like that in a while. I honestly don’t really know what happened after that, but something must’ve gone wrong because she was in my room crying the next day. She wouldn’t tell me anything though.”

The room was silent for a beat as everyone absorbed Caroline’s words. Then Ice leaned forward, her face reflecting she was piecing things together. “Wait, when Azzi got back that Monday?”

“Yeah,” Caroline nodded. “Why?”

Ice leaned forward her expressions showing she was slowly starting to piece things together. “Because I was in the suite when Azzi got back.”

All eyes turned to Ice as she continued. “Azzi came back to our suite. I was on the couch playing the game when she walked in. She seemed... kinda nervous but a little giddy. Like she wanted to go see Paige but wasn’t sure if she should. She was about to just walk in her room but I told her to knock knowing Paige was in there with some girl. I didn’t know they slept together when this happened though.”

“Azzi saw her?” Nika asked, breaking the silence.

Ice nodded grimly. “Yeah. Azzi looked like she was about to throw up. And when Azzi didn’t say anything Paige just…slammed the door in her face.”

“Okay,” Nika began cautiously, “so Azzi left after they—” she hesitated, glancing around, “—you know. And when she came back, she saw Paige with someone else in her room?”

“Paige definitely made herself freak out because Azzi left,” Aubrey chimed in, her voice picking up speed as she worked through it, “but Azzi is upset because Paige started sleeping around again?”

“That’s what it sounds like,” Caroline said slowly. “Azzi probably thought Paige didn’t care. I mean, she comes back all excited, and then... that’s what she walks into? Of course she’d feel like she was just another hookup.”

With Caroline’s words, the puzzle finally clicked into place for the team. The fragmented bits of the story now became slightly whole. 

Ice was the first to speak, her arms crossing as she leaned back on the couch. “We just need to make them talk.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Aaliyah said, her tone cautious. “They both still seem really emotional. Forcing a conversation might just make things worse.”

“They aren’t even upset anymore,” Ice shot back quickly, shaking her head. “They both just walk around the suite like sad puppies at this point. They’re miserable, and we’re all stuck watching it. They literally just need to speak to each other, and I’m sure all of this can be solved.”

Finally, Ice shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch. “You know what? I’ll handle it. I live with them. When they’re both back in the suite later, I’ll make sure they talk.”

“You think that’ll work?” Aubrey asked skeptically.

“It’s better than just sitting here and doing nothing,” Ice said. “I’ll lock them in the same room if I have to.”

There was a mix of amused chuckles and wary glances around the room, but no one disagreed. If anyone could nudge Paige and Azzi toward finally talking, it was their third roommate.

…

Later that day, Azzi was in her room, the faint sound of music playing softly behind the closed door as she was reading a book. Ice was laying on the couch in the common area, idly scrolling on her phone, when she heard the door to the suite open.

Paige walked in, her steps slow, her eyes still slightly puffy from the tears she’d cried earlier. She didn’t look up as she moved toward her room, clearly hoping to slip in without being addressed.

Ice sat up fast, her voice bursting with fake excitement. “P Boogers I miss you!”

Paige paused, startled, but a small fond smile tugged at her lips as she slightly rolled her eyes. She turned to Ice, trying to match her energy, though it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Hi, Isuneh. I miss you too.”

She made to continue toward her room, but Ice wasn’t having it. “Hey, hey, come here,” Ice called out, patting the couch beside her.

Paige frowned, confused. “What? Why?”

“Just do it,” Ice insisted with a grin that didn’t leave room for argument.

Still puzzled, Paige hesitated before sighing and walking over. She plopped down onto the couch, sitting at the edge as she glanced sideways at Ice.

“Good,” Ice said, clapping her hands together before standing up. “Stay right there. I’ll be right back.”

Before Paige could question her further, Ice headed to Azzi’s door. She knocked twice, then opened it without waiting for an answer.

“Yes?” Azzi’s voice was a bit flat, but Ice ignored the tone, walking in and grabbing her by the arm.

“Come on,” Ice said, tugging her toward the door.

Azzi frowned, resisting. “What are you doing?”

“Family meeting,” Ice said, her grip firm.

“Family meeting?” Azzi repeated, confused.

“Yes, and you’re coming,” Ice replied, dragging her out of the room despite her protests.

A moment later, Ice reappeared in the common area, Azzi in tow. She plopped Azzi down on the couch right next to Paige, who looked at her wide-eyed.

“Ice what are you doing?” Paige asked, her voice uneasy as her gaze darted between Ice and Azzi.

Ice grinned, crossing her arms and standing in front of them. “You two are gonna talk.”

Both Paige and Azzi started to protest at the same time, but Ice cut them off with a sharp look. “Nope. No excuses. You’re fixing this. Right here. Right now.”

Paige sighed heavily, crossing her arms. “Ice, we’re not just going to magically fix this because you say so.”

Azzi looked equally unimpressed, her arms folding across her chest. “For once in a while I agree with her.”

Ice rolled her eyes at their ridiculousness already, planting her hands on her hips. “Y'all are so damn stubborn. I’m not asking for magic, just a conversation. You’re still capable of that right? ”

Neither of them responded, the silence thick with unease.

“Fine,” Ice pressed, her tone firm. “Don’t talk, but you’re not leaving this couch until you do.”

Paige shifted uncomfortably, glancing quickly at Azzi, who stubbornly avoided her gaze. After a long pause, Azzi finally sighed and muttered, “Fine. I’ll talk. But I can’t do this with you here, Ice.”

Ice arched a skeptical brow. “Oh, sure. Because the second I leave, you’ll both magically become chatty besties?”

Azzi glared at her. “I’m serious. I’m not doing this with an audience.”

Paige chimed in softly, her tone more sincere. “Ice, it’s okay. We’ll talk. I promise.”

Ice’s gaze darted between them, her arms still crossed. “You better. Because if I come back and one of you is sulking in your room, I’m locking you both in the pantry.”

Azzi gave her an exasperated look, but Paige offered a small, reassuring smile. “We’ll talk,” she said again.

After a long moment of hesitation, Ice finally relented. “Fine,” she said, stepping back. “But don’t make me regret trusting you two, I’ll get hell if I don’t come back with results.”

She paused before leaving, “And don’t yell at each other. You both hate it and it leads to nothing.” 

Azzi muttered under her breath, “No promises,” earning a slight scoff from Paige, who crossed her arms but said nothing. 

With that, Ice retreated to her room, closing the door behind her. 

Once Ice left the silence hung between Paige and Azzi for a while, the suite so quiet they could hear the music coming from Azzi’s room. Paige was picking at her nails absentmindedly, her gaze unfocused as she tried to keep herself from spiraling being so close to Azzi. Beside her, Azzi sat quietly, her fingers subconsciously playing with her necklace, the motion almost automatic at this point.

After what felt like an eternity, Azzi finally broke the silence, her voice soft but cutting slightly. “You don’t have to sit here and pretend you want to talk to me P. It’s fine.”

Paige immediately looked up as if she was waiting for Azzi to speak first. Confused, she says, “Huh, what are you talking about?”

Azzi sighed, clearly already frustrated. She stared at the floor, avoiding Paige’s gaze. "Nothing, Paige. Nevermind.”

But the silence didn’t last long. Azzi’s tone changed, turning a little sharper, more pointed as she finally voiced the question that had been on her mind since she came back to Storrs. "Did you even get to clean the sheets before you had somebody else in your bed?"

Paige blinked, her eyes narrowing slightly, before her initial shock turned into something else—a mix of frustration and defensiveness. She didn’t want to engage in the hurtful back-and-forth, but the words spilled out before she could stop them. “I don’t know Azzi... maybe you would know if you cared to stick around to find out.”

The room fell quiet again, the jabs leaving an uncomfortable space between them that they clearly didn’t want. Neither of them moved, neither of them said anything at first, as though they were both waiting for the other to break the silence. Finally, Azzi’s voice broke through again, softer but no less pointed.

“Did it not mean anything to you Paige?” Azzi’s words were steady, almost too steady, but there was an underlying vulnerability to them.

Paige’s chest tightened, and she leaned back on the couch, rubbing her face with her hands, trying to gather her thoughts. She wasn’t ready for this conversation—not yet, so she played the confused card. “Did what not mean anything?” Her voice was weary, a little guarded, as she avoided looking directly at Azzi.

Azzi didn’t hesitate, her tone unwavering. “You immediately started sleeping around again. It was like you finally got me to sleep with you, and then I wasn’t a second thought anymore. Just like everybody else.” 

Paige’s jaw clenched, and she looked at Azzi, disbelief flickering in her eyes. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but firm.

The silence stretched between them again before Paige let out a long, shaky sigh. She leaned forward, folding her arms across her chest, her gaze softening as she met Azzi’s eyes. “You left me,” she said quietly. 

Her chest tightened as she continued, the pain in her voice unmistakable. "The morning after Halloween, you were gone. No note, no message, nothing. You just disappeared like what happened didn’t matter at all to you!" Her voice was a little too loud. 

Azzi flinched, her eyes flickering with frustration as she said “Paige, stop yelling. We haven’t even started yet and you’re already yelling.”

Paige paused her tears threatening to spill again. She exhaled sharply, biting her lip, before letting out a deep sigh. The volume of her voice softened, but the hurt was still evident. “Do you know what that fucking felt like, Az?” Her voice was lower now, still raw but controlled. “To physically lay out your heart to someone... to try to be completely fucking vulnerable, and then wake up to nothing? To have someone vanish and act like it was all nothing? Like I didn’t mean anything to them?” 

Azzi opened her mouth, but no words came out at first. She swallowed hard, fighting back the lump in her throat. “That’s not what happened, Paige,” she said, her voice quieter now, trying to calm the tension between them.

Paige shook her head, disbelief flashing in her eyes. “That’s exactly what happened,” she countered. “You left. No explanation. Nothing. And then you came back and acted like nothing changed. Knocking on my door with this look on your face like you didn’t even care how you made me feel while you were gone.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, her own frustration building. “No, Paige! You treated me like I was just some random UConn slut you could forget about—” Her voice was sharp, echoing in the room, until Paige gave her a look that made her pause. Azzi’s face softened, and she exhaled shakily. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, glancing away. “I didn’t mean to yell.” She looked back at Paige, her eyes dark with emotion as she continued, her voice quieter. “You just... you made me feel like I didn’t matter.”

Paige’s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing. “Azzi, what are you talking about? I basically worshiped you that night” she said, her voice softer now but still filled with hurt.

She tried to explain, her voice almost shaking with emotion. “After we... After we slept together, and things got a little unclear, you just went right back to doing the same thing you always do. You slept with any girl who came your way, and I was just left there to watch, to hear it. It felt like I was nothing to you. Like I was some one-night stand you got bored with.”

“You ignored me for days, Azzi,” Paige’s voice cracked slightly, the pain evident in each word. “What was I supposed to think? Your phone was off. You didn’t send a single message telling me where you were or what was going on. You just left me hanging, and now you’re acting like it’s all on me?” Her breath came in shallow gasps as she spoke, the frustration of everything unresolved coming to a head.

Azzi opened her mouth to respond, but Paige wasn’t done. The words were spilling out now, a flood of everything she had been holding in. “I didn’t know what to think. I couldn’t think, honestly. I woke up the next morning, and you were just gone. And for three days, you didn’t give me a single word. Not one thing to hold onto, or look forward to. What was I supposed to think?”

The words cut through the silence between them, each one a strike against the walls they’d been building around themselves. Azzi’s gaze flickered away for a moment, her chest rising and falling in slow, shaky breaths. She looked down, her voice small but steady as she spoke, barely above a whisper.

“I just needed time,” she said, her words full of vulnerability. “I needed time to think, to figure everything out. I didn’t know how to process what happened. I didn’t want to do anything rash.”

“How the hell was I supposed to guess that, Az?” Paige’s voice rose, her emotions spilling over. “You just vanished and didn’t think to tell me anything—not one hint of where your head was at. Was I supposed to just sit there waiting for you to come back with some grand explanation? How was I supposed to trust that you’d even come back with something?”

“Stop yelling,” Azzi said simply, her tone firm but not angry.

Paige sighed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned back on the couch, forcing herself to lower her voice. “I’m sorry…How was I supposed to know, Az? You left me to figure it out all on my own.”

Azzi’s eyes softened with regret as she let out a shaky breath. “I thought... I thought you’d trust me, P. I thought you’d understand that I needed space. I didn’t want to hurt you by saying the wrong thing, or worse, doing something I couldn’t take back.”

Paige’s tone softened, but the hurt was still evident in her words. “It’s hard to trust someone who walked out on you. How can I trust you when you just disappeared? You don’t do that to someone after they open up to you. You don’t vanish for days and leave them wondering if they ever meant anything to you.”

Azzi’s expression twisted, frustration mingling with sadness. “I was ready to talk when I got back home. I had it all figured out,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “But when I came back, you had some random girl in our suite, probably ready to fuck her. You didn’t even try to talk to me. So no, I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at you after I saw that.”

The silence that followed was deafening, both of them sitting with the weight of the words they’d thrown at each other.

Paige finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know what else to do, Azzi. I didn’t know if you were coming back, if you even cared enough to try.”

Paige’s breath hitched as she continued, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she looked at Azzi. “I know I shouldn’t have done that, and I’m sorry,” she said, her voice cracking. “It just felt like you didn’t care and that was the only thing I could come up with.”

Azzi finally glanced at Paige, the regret and longing in her eyes almost overwhelming. She hesitated before scooting closer, slowly reaching out to take Paige’s hand in hers, their fingers lacing together. The touch was hesitant but full of unspoken meaning.

“I cared,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible, a rawness to it that Paige had never heard before. “I cared so much that it scared me. Scared me not knowing where you stood, not knowing if I even meant anything to you. And for everything I did... I’m so sorry. For leaving you when you needed me. For making you cry, for making those beautiful blue eyes of yours look so sad. I hate that I did that to you.”

She paused, her voice trembling slightly as the words continued to spill out. “I’m sorry for all the snide remarks, the times I pushed you away when you were reaching out, for making you feel like you didn’t matter, when you meant everything to me. I’m sorry for every moment I made you feel small, when you’re anything but that. I promise you I never wanted to hurt you, Paige. I just... I was scared. And in all my fear, I made it so you were the problem, when it was never you.”

Azzi took a deep breath before speaking again, her voice laced with regret as she finally began telling Paige what happened. “I got up before you. I was planning on getting breakfast for us because I knew you were going to have a hangover.” She paused, looking down at their interlaced fingers, before continuing. “But when I was getting the food, I ran into one of your hookups. The one we ran into that night we were going to eat and you told her I was your girlfriend. So I guess to antagonize me she said something that... that reminded me of how much you’ve slept around. It... it scared me, Paige. It made me think about what happened between us, and I didn’t know what that night meant to you, what I meant to you. I didn’t know if I was going to be just another one night stand.”

Paige tried to speak but Azzi continued, “I guess she saw my initial reaction and decided to keep going. She asked if you were still as aggressive as you used to be and started rambling about all the things you did to her. I just..I felt so inadequate, Paige. I’ve never done any of that. I didn’t even know how to respond.”

Paige froze, her stomach sinking at the words. “She did what?” she breathed, shocked.

Azzi’s voice was barely a whisper now, and she looked away. “She said it casually, as if it was no big deal. But it made me think, made me question everything. It reminded me of how much you’ve been... you know, sleeping around, and how experienced you are, and it just… kinda hit me. That I’ve never done anything like that and I’m probably a lot more inexperienced than the other girls you’ve been with.” Azzi continues kind of rambling now, “I started to wonder if it was even good for you. If I did anything wrong. You didn’t even try anything like that with me. I don’t even know if you’re into that kind of thing with me and it was just too much, so I had to take some time to think and when I came back and saw someone in the suite it just made all those feelings resurface.”

Paige’s heart clenched painfully as the weight of Azzi’s words sank in. She reached out and grabbed Azzi’s jaw gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said, her voice trembling with sincerity. “I didn’t know she said that. I didn’t even know you were... Fuck I’m so so sorry Az, I didn’t ever want to make you feel that way.”

Azzi’s eyes filled with tears, but she didn’t pull away. “It hurt, Paige,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “It really hurt. And I came back I had everything ready but you were–”

Azzi stopped, biting her lip as if trying to keep herself from falling apart. Instead, she took a deep breath and stood up. “Wait here,” she said softly before disappearing into her room.

Paige blinked, confused and concerned at the abruptness, her heart racing as she sat there waiting. When Azzi returned a few moments later, she was holding a crumpled up airport paper, covered in messy scribbles and arrows. 

Azzi handed it to Paige without a word, sitting back down as Paige unfolded it, her brows furrowing as she scanned the chaotic notes. “What...is this?”

“It’s a list,” Azzi said quietly. “I made it after… you know, that night. I was trying to calm myself down and prove that it wasn’t just some hookup for you, that it meant something more.”

Paige’s eyes darted over the napkin, trying to decipher the messy scrawl. Words and phrases jumped out at her. She kissed me, with an arrow towards for the second time in the corner of the napkin. Jealous at Ted’s but that one had a lot of question marks followed by she would’ve just told me which was crossed out with the words no she wouldn’t next to it. Other words Paige could clearly make out Teammates…felt too inanimate…the way she looked at me, which was underlined a few multiple times with the words think i’m delusional next to it. 

As Paige continues trying to decipher the napkin, realization dawns on her face. Her fingers slightly tighten around the paper as her chest tightens with emotion. The arrows connecting some points and scribbled-out words showed how much thought Azzi had put into it, even in her uncertainty.

“I had everything figured out,” Azzi said, her voice trembling. “I was ready to show you, to make you understand even if you weren’t ready, that it couldn’t have been just casual for you. It had to be something deeper. But then I saw her in your bed, and it all fell apart. God, Paige, I felt so stupid. Like I’d made everything up in my head.”

Paige stared at the napkin, guilt and heartbreak washing over her in waves. “Azzi…”

Azzi shook her head, looking away. “I cared so much about sleeping with you it scared me, Paige. And when I saw her, I just… I couldn’t do it anymore.”

Paige’s eyes filled with tears as she placed the napkin on the table and cupped Azzi’s face gently, urging her to look at her. “Azzi, I swear to you, I never meant for you to feel like that,” she said her, her voice quiet but steady. “I didn’t even know she said that. I didn’t even know you were…I wasn’t that way with you because you’re so much more than that to me Az. I never wanted you to feel like you were just another hookup. I knew it was your first time with a girl, and I just wanted to take everything slow. I wanted you to feel safe, to feel like it was okay to just feel everything and just…just be. I was trying to show you how much I cared that night, and I thought maybe... maybe that was the way to make you understand. But it wasn’t. I see that now.”

Azzi’s face softened as she absorbed Paige’s words. The tension between them seemed to ease just a little, but there was still a quiet sorrow in her eyes. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a breath before speaking. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “I never meant to make you feel alone, I know how hard that is for you. I was just so caught up in my own feelings, my own fear. I was so afraid of getting hurt that I couldn’t care about how anyone else felt.”

Paige reached out, cupping Azzi’s face gently in her hands again. She felt the weight of Azzi’s pain, the vulnerability in her touch, and it broke something inside her. “I understand,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. “I get it. I do. But you mean the world to me, Azzi. I never wanted to make you feel less than. I just wanted you to know how much I care, how much I need you.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered open, locking with Paige’s, and she leaned into the touch, a tear slipping down her cheek. She didn’t say anything right away, just let the silence hang between them, the weight of everything they had just shared in the air. At that moment, words didn’t seem to matter as much as the quiet connection between them.

Paige pulled Azzi into a tight, much-needed hug. She buried her face in Azzi’s hair and whispered, “I’m so sorry Azzi.” Azzi squeezed her back, the tension in her body easing with every second. “I’m sorry too,” she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. The two of them sat in their embrace for a while, both of them making up for what they felt like was lost time. 

Ice’s door creaked open hesitantly. She hadn’t heard voices for some time, so she peeked out to check on the situation. Her eyes landed on Paige and Azzi wrapped in each other’s arms, their tears visible even from where she stood. A grin tugged at her lips as she then leaned against the wall.

“Okay thank god you figured it out,” Ice teased, crossing her arms. “I was starting to think I’d have to find a lock for the pantry. It was hard being a child of a divorced home.”

Azzi laughed through her tears, her face still pressed to Paige’s shoulder. “Shut up, Ice,” she said, her voice thick but light with humor.

Paige chuckled softly, finally pulling back just enough to wipe at Azzi’s damp cheeks. The warmth in her gaze made Azzi’s heartache in the best way.

Ice smirked, watching them for a moment longer before retreating back into her room, muttering something about how they better keep it down if there’s any more funny business around this house. Paige and Azzi exchanged a watery laugh, the tension between them finally broken.

…

Later that night, after showering and getting into her pajamas, Paige sat on her bed, the controller in her hands as she settled into her game for the first time in a while. She hadn’t felt in the mood to play in weeks, but tonight was obviously different.

Azzi walked into the room quietly, dressed in her pajamas and a bonnet. She stood by the door for a moment, hesitant, taking in the space that felt unfamiliar in this new version of them, something a little more than a friendship but not a relationship. She hadn’t been in Paige’s room like this—so casually, so unburdened—since October…since they slept together. It felt like the distance between them had changed everything, and for a second, she wasn’t sure how to exist in here.

But then she heard Paige mutter something incoherent at the game, followed by an exaggerated shout of frustration when she was killed. Azzi’s lips curled into a smile at the familiar sound. That was more like the Paige she knew. It made Azzi relax a little.

Azzi made her way over to the bed and sat down on the edge next to Paige, her body a little stiff at first. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself, what was ok to do and what wasn’t. But then, as she watched Paige continue to play, she cracked a joke, letting it slip out without thinking.

“Have you always been this bad, or is tonight just special?” Azzi teased, her voice light with amusement.

Paige paused the game immediately, her brow furrowing as she turned to face Azzi, an exaggerated look of disbelief on her face. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

Azzi shrugged nonchalantly, her eyes still on her phone, scrolling absentmindedly. “Eh, just stating the obvious.”

Paige crossed her arms, trying to hold back a grin. “I’m being disrespected in my own room, this is crazy.” She said, her voice a little dramatic, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.

Azzi chuckled, and for a moment, the tension from the past few weeks seemed to slip away. The easy banter between them returned, small but meaningful, like they hadn’t spent any time apart. Paige rolled her eyes, but there was a warmth in her chest, the kind that came with knowing things were moving in the right direction.

Paige tilted her head, looking at Azzi. “You wanna play?”

Azzi looked up from her phone, her brow raising as if Paige had just asked her to solve all the world’s problems. “Me? Play? Are you crazy?” She shook her head. “I’ve never played before. And I’ve heard you, KK, and Ice yelling a little too much to know better.”

Paige shrugged, unfazed. “No big deal. You’ll like it.” She said as she tried to hand Azzi the controller.

Azzi hesitated, giving the controller a wary glance before reluctantly taking it. The second she started playing, Paige immediately realized how bad things were going to be. Within seconds, Azzi’s character on the screen was walking off of the building Paige had built, spinning in circles, and doing everything but what she was supposed to be doing.

“Azzi what the hell!” Paige burst out laughing as she watched the chaos unfold. “What are you even doing?!”

“I don’t know!” Azzi cried out, frantically mashing random buttons as her character continued to flail in every direction, shooting randomly here and there. She pushed Paige’s shoulder with a playful shove. “Shut up and help me!”

Paige tried to compose herself, still grinning as she pointed at the screen. “Okay, okay, see this button? That’s to move. And that one? That’s to aim. You’re just—” She dissolved into laughter again as Azzi’s character jumped straight towards someone shooting at her and immediately died.

Azzi groaned, pouting as she turned to Paige with a frown. “This isn’t funny! You’re supposed to be helping, not laughing at me.”

“I am helping!” Paige insisted through her giggles, her cheeks aching from how hard she was laughing. She reached over, guiding Azzi’s hands on the controller. “Look, just press this one and— no not that one!”

Azzi let out an exaggerated huff, dropping the controller onto her lap. “This is impossible. You’re a terrible teacher.”

“You’re just a terrible student,” Paige shot back, her grin widening.

At this, Azzi pouted harder, her lips pushing out in exaggerated frustration. Paige couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Alright, alright, come here,” she said, scooting back on the bed to make room.

Azzi gave her a skeptical look but didn’t argue, sliding into the spot Paige had just been sitting in, directly in front of the TV. Paige scooted up behind her, settling comfortably as she wrapped her arms around Azzi to guide her hands on the controller.

Azzi stiffened at first, her body going rigid against Paige’s. Paige noticed immediately, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “Relax, Az,” she said, her voice gentle, her breath warm against Azzi’s ear. “I’m not gonna bite, Just teaching you how to play the game I swear.”

Azzi huffed a small laugh, the tension easing out of her shoulders as she leaned back into Paige. “You better not,” she murmured, her tone lighter.

As Azzi settled into Paige’s hold, she tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Paige’s face, which was now resting on her shoulder. Paige smirked, not even looking away from the TV. “Stop staring and focus on the game, Azzi.”

“I’m not staring,” Azzi muttered, rolling her eyes, though her cheeks warmed slightly.

“Sure you’re not,” Paige teased, her tone dripping with amusement. “This is why you’re so bad at the game—you’re too distracted by me so you aren’t listening to instructions”

Azzi scoffed. “Please, I’d be amazing if you weren’t breathing down my neck every two seconds.”

Paige chuckled, her voice low and playful. “You like it, don’t lie.”

Azzi tried to keep a straight face, but the corners of her lips twitched as she turned her attention back to the screen. “Whatever. Just show me which button I’m supposed to press.”

“Alright, I got this,” Paige said, her fingers wrapping around Azzi’s to guide her movements. As they moved, Paige’s fingers brushed over Azzi’s, each shift in position almost feeling intentional, like she was trying to distract her more than help with the game. “See? You press this one to jump. No, not that one—this one,” Paige corrected, her hand pressing lightly on Azzi’s, guiding her thumb to the correct button.

Azzi shot Paige a playful glare, her lips curling into a smile despite herself. “Are you just playing for me now?”

Paige didn’t even try to hide her grin. “You’re a terrible student, Azzi. What do you expect?” Her voice was teasing, but there was a warmth beneath it, the closeness between them now undeniable. She adjusted her grip on Azzi’s hands, their fingers interlacing as she continued to control the game for both of them.

Azzi couldn’t help but laugh at how effortlessly Paige took over. “You’re not even letting me play at this point. What’s the point of me being here?”

Paige’s fingers tightened around Azzi’s making sure she didn’t go anywhere, guiding them both. “You’re here to keep me entertained,” she teased. 

Azzi rolled her eyes, trying to focus on the screen, but her attention kept drifting to the feel of Paige’s hand in hers, the pressure of her touch. “I think you just like controlling things,” Azzi said, her voice softer now, with a hint of something more teasing underneath.

Paige smirked, her grip remaining firm as she helped Azzi push through the game. “You know I love being in control.” 

Azzi shifted, feeling the warmth of Paige’s chest against her back as she continued to play. “You’re really trying to get me flustered, huh?” Azzi teased, though the playful tone didn’t quite match the fluttering feeling in her stomach.

Paige’s chuckle was low and soft, her lips brushing against the side of Azzi’s neck as she continued guiding her hands. “If you’re flustered, then I’m doing something right.” She let out a light laugh when Azzi flinched slightly at the touch. “But you need to focus, Az. We’re trying to win here.”

Azzi, still caught in the tangle of their touch and the warmth of Paige’s breath, let out a small, involuntary laugh. “I’m trying, but it’s hard when you’re distracting me like this.”

Paige leaned in, her lips grazing Azzi’s ear as she whispered, “Then I guess you’ll just have to try harder, huh?”

As Azzi’s thumb pressed the button under Paige’s guidance, she couldn’t ignore the way her pulse quickened under Paige’s touch. “You’re insane,” Azzi muttered, but she didn’t pull away.

Paige’s smile deepened, the playful glint in her eyes never fading as she held Azzi’s hands in hers. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Azzi smirked, her voice light and teasing as she turned her head just enough for their faces to be dangerously close. “I didn’t say it was a bad thing,” she replied, her tone playful but with a hint of challenge. Her eyes locked with Paige’s, a subtle heat building between them. “But you’re starting a game that I was always better than you at,” she added, her words dripping with teasing confidence as she leaned just a little closer, her breath brushing against Paige’s skin.

Azzi’s smirk only deepened as she leaned back slightly, tilting her head just enough to make their lips almost touch. The tension in the air shifted, both of them clearly forgetting the game in favor of something else. Her voice dropped to a near whisper, sending a shiver down Paige’s spine. “I miss you, P. I’ve been replaying it in my head for weeks,” Azzi murmured, her fingers gently tracing over Paige’s fingers, the motion intentional and carrying an unmistakable double meaning.

Paige swallowed hard, her breath catching as Azzi’s words lingered in the space between them. Her heart raced, but she quickly detached herself from Azzi, leaning back and breaking the moment with a forced, lighthearted laugh. “Alright, I need to get away from Casanova here before I forget how to function,” Paige joked, trying to ease the tension as she put some space between them, though her smile betrayed her, a mix of amusement and something deeper still lingering in her eyes.

Azzi let out a soft sigh and rolled her eyes, clearly amused by Paige’s attempt to lighten the mood. Without saying another word, she grabbed her book from the bedside table and settled comfortably into Paige’s bed, leaning back against the pillows as she opened it to the page she had left off on.

Paige glanced over at her, a smile tugging at her lips as she started the game again, the sound of the controller clicking in the quiet room. Every now and then, she’d catch a glimpse of Azzi’s relaxed posture, her head slightly tilted down as she read, and the small sense of comfort that filled the space between them was nice to have again. 

After a while, because Paige really was rusty, she finally won a round of Fortnite, she threw the controller onto the bed with a triumphant “Victory!” She turned around, expecting to see Azzi’s usual playful smirk, but instead, Azzi was fast asleep, her body sprawled across the bed. The sight of her like this—calm, peaceful, unguarded—struck something in Paige. She hadn’t seen Azzi like this in a while, and it warmed her more than she expected.

Paige smiled softly to herself, a little bittersweet. After turning everything off she carefully climbed into bed, trying not to wake Azzi, but the moment she settled in, Azzi instinctively shifted closer, snuggling into her side like it was the most natural thing in the world. Paige smiled again, a real, gentle smile, her heart fluttering at the simple act of them being close again.

The room was quiet for a while, save for the soft, rhythmic sound of Azzi’s breathing. Paige felt herself drifting to sleep for the first time in a while, feeling the weight of everything they’d been through slowly melting away, replaced by the comfortable warmth of having Azzi beside her again. Just as she was about to fall asleep, Azzi’s soft voice broke the silence.

“Thank you for the necklace,” Azzi whispered, her voice barely audible. Paige’s chest tightened at the sincerity behind the words.

Paige smiled, her eyes still closed, and whispered back, her voice soft with affection. “You’re welcome.”

A small moment of silence passed between them as they both settled into the shared space of the bed. They weren’t together—not yet—but there was a quiet understanding between them. They weren’t rushing anything. They would work on it slowly but surely until they were ready. It felt like progress, even without words.

Just as they settled into a peaceful sleep, the sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. Ice, who had been passing by, peeked in and caught a glimpse of the two of them. She paused for a moment, watching as Paige and Azzi snuggled so naturally together. She smiled to herself, happy for them, before snapping a quick picture, closing the door and walking down the hallway to send the picture in the groupchat.

[sarahsangelicdoll-recs]

eoooof this is hot !! i swear i love everything you come out with 💞💞

“predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.”

I’ve said this before but i love predator x prey because it has such an underlying hint of trust and playfulness that i just LOVE sm, predator x prey fics are my weakness and i love them SM

“tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.”

Imagining fucking Rafes dick with my tits while i watch his reaction is just unbelievably hot. then watching his expression while he stares down at you while he’s cumming, EUGHH i need himm

“hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.”

i SWEAR i love bitchy!kook!reader and Rafes dynamic so much, they’re both hot and its just, eueeshe

“spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..”

I swear spanking is such a big kink of mine, it’s so hot ESPECIALLY when they’re typically more on the softer side. like just imagining myself laying on my tummy across their lap while they alternate between spanking my ass red and soothing it is just- chefs kiss 💋

“marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss”

i never really thought of marathon sex before but just imagining Rafe and pogue!sweetheart!reader fucking in pogue!sweetheart!readers trailer, plus add a lil bit of vanilla + humour, soft hint strawberry scent filling the air and just kind of lovey vibes is just.. i don’t know i need it 🤭🤭

we need to kiss all of these are hot and literally perfection

⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ RAFE + THE !READER’S AND THEIR KINKS

warnings: dark content ahead! please do not read if you don’t feel comfortable with any of the kinks listed!

a/n: some of these might not be considered ‘kinks’ but instead things that both rafe and !reader may particularly enjoy. special thank you to @nemesyaaa for giving me this idea and always listening to my rambles <3333 consider this my christmas gift to you ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡

wc: 5.0k

⭑.ᐟ bambi!reader

cnc: these two have a meeting and go over all of their fantasies. while bambi’s suggestions are more tame, rafe is going all out, suggesting that he kidnaps her, holds her at gun/knife point, along with making another safe word just for the sole purpose of dismissing it. he’s covering bambi’s mouth while she’s screaming for him to get off of her, fucking her with so much force that her body scoots up on whatever surface rafe has her on. she’s pushing away, or trying to at least, and rafe is just so much stronger than her that he doesn’t budge. “look at you, so pathetic and weak..” rafe would laugh at her, making her cry as she helplessly took his cock.

rope play: no one can convince me that rafe wasn’t a boy scout when he was little. he’s very knowledgeable of different knots and ties and made it a point to start experimenting with you, tying you up in grotesque positions purely for his enjoyment. even tying your arms behind your back in intricate weaves was enough to get him going. he’d take full advantage of you in your restraints, fucking you past overstimulation, the mixture of pleasure and pain making you cry out in both agony and bliss. your fingers would gradually grow numb, along with the rest of your body until rafe untied you, indents from the rope adorning your flesh.

outdoor sex: an innocent little picnic can quickly turn into rafe pushing your head into the grass while he fists your panties, dragging them down your thighs before bunching your dress up and slamming into you without warning. he can’t quite pin point when this became a ‘thing’ between you two, but fuck he knew you loved it. maybe it was because of the scenery or being far away from anyone being able to see or hear you two, but sex out in the middle of nowhere was thrilling for you both. bambi already spent a lot of her time outside, so whenever rafe would join her and do what he does best; making her cum around his cock, it was like her two favorite worlds collided.

asphyxiation: this was first done on accident when rafe was fucking your throat and smothering your face at the same time. seeing the way you gasped for air after he pulled you off of his cock was nothing short of gratifying. but seeing the way you were eager to do it again was even better. from that point forward he would do anything and everything to cut off your intake of air. covering your nose when you sucked him off, choking you during sex until you were on the verge of blacking out, pinning you down by your neck so your windpipe was being crushed. of course he educated both you and himself, and took your little taps of surrender very seriously.

predator/prey: the thrill of the hunt and the chase was like no other. whether rafe was chasing bambi in tanneyhill or outside at night time, the promise of getting to do whatever he wanted to her if he captured her was all the encouragement he needed. she’d be hiding, goosebumps spreading across her skin once she couldn’t see rafe anymore. little did she know, he was already creeping up from behind her, a rough hand clamping over her mouth before she could scream. rafe is grunting threats in her ear while she thrashes against him, telling her that she’s powerless and fighting against him is useless. of course, once he has her held down, she’s completely at his mercy.

⭑.ᐟ sheep!reader

slapping: whether rafe is slapping the swells of your tits, the fleshy globes of your ass, or your poor overstimulated clit, he loves seeing your body jolt at his touch. he especially likes slapping you in the face when he’s pounding into you, the small flash of hurt passing over your features shooting straight to his cock. he’s smiling while you’re flinching every time he picks his hand up, his large palm meeting your soft skin with a harsh smack! he knows you’re far too timid and shy to tell him to stop, small whimpers leaving your lips at the stinging sensation. once he’s done with you, your skin is raw and sensitive to the touch, rafe always making sure to soothe you and comfort you afterwards.

corruption: you were just a pretty, clueless virgin when he met you, and still pretty and clueless after he broke you in. rafe still see’s you as a saint even when he’s fingering you to tears, your tight walls spasming around his digits. he treats every time like it’s your first time all overs again, the idea of getting you addicted to his cock was enough to make him cum. he loved to see the confused, yet desperate plea in your eyes for him to turn you inside out. the fact that he’s the only one who has ever seen you unravel makes his chest fill with pride. to know that he’s the one who turned you into a cock-hungry slut to begin with does wonders for his ego.

dacryphilia: rafe does things to purposely make sheep cry. pinching her clit, fucking her so hard that his tip is nudging her cervix with every thrust, grabbing her cheeks and squeezing them together with a bruising grip, he loves seeing those sparkly eyes watering with tears. if he has you on your knees, he won’t stop fucking your throat until you have tears running down your neck and chest. rafe thinks sheep looks prettiest when she’s an utter mess, tear-stained cheeks and swollen lips are his favorite look on her. even when she’s crying and upset about something, he can’t help but guide her hand to his aching length, promising her that she’ll feel better once she makes him cum.

orgasm denial: the way that rafe keeps sheep needy and ready to fuck whenever he wants is by denying her orgasms. waiting until her eyes are rolling to the back of her head before pulling away and making her clench around nothing. “nononono, please, rafe! i need it!” she’s clinging onto him, trying to keep him near as much as she could before he’s swatting her hands away. “gotta keep you on your toes, ‘doll.” he’s rough when he holds her down, stroking himself until he’s painting her tummy with his seed. sexually frustrated and sad that he didn’t fill her up instead, she’s bending to his every will later on when he wants to go for round two.

overstimulation: if sheep isn’t getting denied an orgasm, she’s getting a load of them until she’s physically trying to run away from rafe. while he’s doing everything he can to keep her cumming, she’s convulsing, shaking and trembling, writhing in pain as rafe works her poor, sensitive bud. using his fingers, tongue and cock, he tells sheep to keep count and if she messes up then he has to start from zero again. sheep is brainless after the first three, her train of thought being completely gone as rafe fights with her to keep her thighs open. “no more, no more, no more..” she’s repeating it like a mantra, rafe ignoring her pleas for him to stop.

⭑.ᐟ latina!kook!reader

praise: rafe is having a hard time believing that his favorite latina is even letting him touch her, so he’s doing everything he can to remember this moment. he’s telling you how good your perfume smells, marveling at how soft your skin feels under his touch, admiring and staring at your body in awe as if to remember every curve and detail. you’re looking in his eyes while he raves about never seeing someone as beautiful as you. “you’re so fucking gorgeous, holy shit.” rafe is in disbelief when he finally gets you out of your clothes, his eyes instinctively blinking as he didn’t know what to take in first.. your angelic face, show-stopping tits, or glistening pussy.

language: hearing you speak in your mother tongue is going to do it for rafe every single time. whether you’re cursing at him or grabbing him through his pants, whispering; “lo quiero, papi— i want it, daddy..” his cock springs up at the sound of your voice. you’ve taught him enough spanish for him to reply to certain things, your favorite phrase of his being, “mírame, muñeca— look at me, doll.” when you’re shying away from the intensity of his gaze. rafe loved hearing all the words falling from your lips, especially when a particular thrust of his hips made your voice crack at the end of your sentences. “keep talking to me, hermosa— beautiful, i need to hear you.”

mirror sex: you didn’t have not one bad side. in rafe’s eyes you were absolutely flawless. after the first time you two had sex, he knew immediately that he needed to see you at every angle. getting a mirror installed on the ceiling right above his bed was the first step, then it was a mirrored headboard.. and then two full length mirrors that sat in the opposite corners of his room. the man was obsessed with watching you. if he had you in doggy, he could still get a full view of your face twisting in pleasure along with the bounce of your tits. on days where you wanted to ride him, he’d watch in awe as the globes of your ass met his thighs with a ripple effect adorning the fleshy skin.

body worship: similar to praise, rafe is whispering sweet nothings against your skin, his hands working to massage your calves as he presses kisses to your thighs. he’s holding onto you, eyes closed as he takes in your scent. “you’re so perfect.” rafe sounds like a broken record as he kisses your knuckles, and up your arm to the curve of your shoulder until he finally gets to your lips. his hands are roaming your body even as he’s inside of you, his soft touch a stark contrast to his hard thrusts. not a single inch of your body goes untouched by this man. he pays attention to every single thing, from the crown of your head down to the tips of your toes, he makes sure you feel like a goddess at all times.

tit fucking: having both your tits and your face in his line of vision is a surely a sight to behold. he’s delirious as you gaze up at him, the tip of his cock emerging from between your tits before meeting your tongue. despite you moving yourself up and down, rafe is thrusting from beneath you, the slick sound of his precum making both of you moan. “ah, fuck!” his hips are stuttering everytime you manage to wrap your lips around the tip, his cock twitching with need as you stroke him with ease. he loves seeing the way your lashes flutter up at him when he finishes across your chest, watching with lust-filled eyes as you swipe some of his seed with a manicured finger before popping the digit into your mouth with a smile.

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!kook!reader

choking: while rafe loves to choke you in order for you to keep your sassy remarks to yourself, he nearly loses it when you take charge and wrap your hand around the column of his throat instead. he loves the push and pull of your shared dynamic. when he has you pinned down by your neck, it’s useless to deem it a punishment since you always end up liking the pain more than the pleasure. rafe can’t help but curse to himself at the sight of the smirk adorning your lips when he’s cutting off your airway. “no way you’re loving this shit right now..” both of your voices are hoarse once you’re done with each other, the sound making you two look at each other smugly.

hate sex: you two mastered this before everything else. fucking when you were enemies and nothing more was like a fever dream, both of you fighting to use each other for no other reason besides getting off. you’d push rafe down, bouncing on his cock to keep him from having his way with you, only for him to have your face pressed into the pillows moments later. you two didn’t care if the other felt good or not, it was purely just your way of taking out all of the pent up anger and frustration you two had for eachother. you’d curse at him before he crashed his lips into yours, telling you to ‘shut the fuck up for once and just use your mouth for what it’s supposed to be.’ as he forced you down onto your knees.

impact play: if you and rafe weren’t hitting and shoving each other into his room when you wanted to jump each other’s bones then you weren’t doing it right. slamming you against the wall while he was inside of you, slapping him across the face when he did something a little too hard, it was all apart of your little dance together and you two fucking lived for it. rafe loved that he didn’t have to be so soft and gentle with you, and even more so when he found someone who finally didn’t treat him like he was made of glass and used the same force against him. the roughness and complete disregard for one another’s feelings in those very moments was addicting to say the least.

degradation: this was bitchy!kook!reader’s specialty. telling rafe how stupid and pathetic he is for spamming her phone with desperate texts, telling him he’s worthless and that the only thing he’s good for is being her boy toy. she’s bringing up the times when rafe was begging her to let him eat her out, calling him names and laughing in his face when he looks the slightest bit embarrassed. rafe isn’t letting up on you either, he’s cussing in your ear, calling you a bitch and a ‘spoiled fuckin’ brat’ as he folds you in half. both of you revel in the weight of your insults, the words only making both of you needy to prove the other wrong. ‘just shut your fucking mouth already..’

possessiveness: despite ‘hating’ each other, there’s nothing neither of you hated more than seeing each other in close proximity with someone else. rafe hated your friends, all of them always trying to introduce someone to you in hopes that they could get you to leave rafe alone once and for all. of course, later on that night when the party is over and the place is cleared, he’s pounding into you like he has something to prove. “you’re fuckin’ stupid if you thought i was gonna let you leave with that asshole.” he has you in a head lock, his toned stomach smacking the back of your ass as he choked you out with his bicep. “no one else could ever make you feel like this.”

⭑.ᐟ bitchy!pogue!reader

recording: she’s rafe’s personal pornstar without a doubt. bitchy!pogue!reader knows she looks amazing every second of the day, even when her mouth is full of cock, so when she see’s rafe pull out his camera, she’s really giving him a show. “you fuckin’ slut, i could make millions off of you..” rafe would say after she made him cum on her face and tits. rafe loved to keep documentation of bitchy!pogue!reader almost begging to tears for rafe to fuck her already, the footage coming in handy when she decides to wake up with an attitude and tells him that he’s lucky that you even let him fuck, let alone talk to you. he has the camera in your face the same night, grunting out “aww what’s wrong? ‘still think you’re too good for this cock now?”

rough sex: these two turn ‘rough sex’ into an umbrella term with all of the depraved shit that they do. smacking your skin until you’re bruised, scratching rafe until you draw blood, thrusting into you so hard that you let out a shriek with every stroke of his hips, and this isn’t including all of the choking, biting, and hair pulling that both of you do while you’re at it. rafe is ruthless in the bedroom, often leaving you bedridden by the time he’s done plowing into your poor, sensitive cunt. this was what regular sex was like between you two, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. it drove rafe crazy to know that you were so willing and just as sick and twisted as him to take his shit.

humiliation: this was a two way street for both you and rafe. he would say that he could never be seen with a stripper on his arm since he was sure the entire island had already been with you before, and you would say that you wouldn’t want to be seen with a pathetic loser with daddy issues and a drug problem to cope, anyways. both of you knew that the shit talking that you were doing was only foreplay for the activities you were going to do later. sure enough, he’s taking you in the country club bathroom, all of the grand parents there staring at your provocative outfit in disbelief. “please don’t make me moan loud..” you’d whimper, rafe wrapping a fist in your hair. “nah, you’re gonna let this whole club know that you’re nothing but an easy hooker.”

face fucking: once rafe got started on this, it was never-ending. he’d have you on your knees wherever you two were at, forcing you to keep your hands behind your back as he used your throat like a cock sleeve. he’s pulling at the roots of your hair with a strangled groan, the sound of his length sliding in and out from between your lips making his eyes roll to the back of his head. it’s messy and sticky, your cheeks full of tears as spit and precum dribble down your chin, your jaw aching for a break. “fuck, just look at you.. ‘bet you don’t have shit to bitch about now, do you?” still managing to roll your eyes at him, rafe chuckles to himself before picking up his pace.

dumbification: your walls are fluttering around rafe’s cock when he tells you things like; “you’re a dumb, stupid, slut who doesn’t know how to do anything except take dick.” and calling you a brainless bimbo with nothing but tits for brains. you’re nodding along to his words, not caring about how much he’s dumbing you down. in this very moment, with his hips slamming into yours, you were brainless.. not a single thought behind your fucked out gaze. “just prancing around in your heels like a clueless fuckin’ bunny, not knowing shit..” he’s delivering each word with a punctuated thrust, your back arching into his chest when you feel the rough pads of his fingers on your sensitive clit.

⭑.ᐟ kook!sweetheart!reader

sexting: boyyyy you two can sext for hours at a time. once the clock hits ten and your phone dings with a ‘you up, beautiful?’ from none other than rafe himself, you’re faking a yawn and telling your parents you’re gonna cut the movie short tonight because you’re so sleepy. as soon as you’re laid in your bed, your room door locked until further notice, you’re sending rafe all the pretty nudes you took for him since the last time you two sexted. rafe is fisting his cock as your pictures come in one by one, his bottom lip pulled haphazardly between his teeth to keep himself from moaning out loud. in return, rafe is also sending you pictures of himself. shirtless gym pics, his bulges when he wakes up thinking about you, and your personal favorite; his bare cock and the aftermath of stroking himself to your sexy photos.

lingerie: this was only fitting considering you were a whole designer with your own lingerie brand. rafe hadn’t really developed his kink for fucking you in your lingerie until you started surprising him, the lace and sometimes satin material looking just gorgeous against your skin. besides the obvious fact that you looked stunning in your sets, he thinks the reason why he appreciated it a lot more is because he knows you thought about him when choosing which one to wear. “do you like it?” was possibly the most dumbest question you could’ve ever asked him. of course, you got your answer when he pulled you on top of him, moving your panties over to the side before slamming you down onto his length.

cum play: rafe died and came back to life when he watched you smear his cum over your lips the first time you took his length into your mouth. and then he died again on a separate occasion when he came on your tits, your pretty manicured fingers swirling his seed over your sensitive buds. now every time he finished, if it wasn’t inside of you, he watched with a bated breath as you tasted him before pulling him down into a kiss. your tongues clashed, both of you moaning as you made out with his cum in your mouths. you shared spit, making a mess out of each other until you were begging him to cum again. “please, i want more, rafe..”

pussy eating: he needs it. he needs to have kook!sweetheart!reader’s thighs locked down to his shoulders while he works his skillful tongue on her pussy. she’s whimpering above him, wrapping her hands around his large fingers as he gently circles her clit. rafe is easily eating her out for an hour before another hour passes and she’s a mess. having orgasmed at least ten times, rafe is very controlled and knows how to bring her up before pushing her over the edge and letting her fall ever so graciously into another orgasm one after the other. the lower half of his face is soaked, and when he looks up at you from between your thighs, the sight of him is burned into your mind forever.

cockwarming: one of rafe’s favorites. whenever you and rafe are in the bliss of aftercare, he stays nestled inside of you, both of you kissing each other lazily while he rubbed soothing circles into your skin. “think you could keep still?” you teased, rafe laughing softly as you clenched around him, almost as if to provoke him to move. not even ten minutes later, you’re slowly circling your hips, desperate for any kind of friction while rafe holds you in place. “i knew you were gonna put out.” rafe groaned, moving gently as he rolled over on top of you. ignoring him, you dug your heels into his lower back, prompting him to keep going. “yeah, yeah, just fuck me— oh!”

⭑.ᐟ farmer’s!daughter!reader

size kink: cowboy!rafe is hugeee, and (un)fortunately for you, also hung like a fucking horse. his entire body envelopes yours when he’s on top of you, only half of his cock fitting inside of you before he’s forcing you to take the whole thing. feeling like his length and the sheer girth of him is splitting you open, you’re looking down at where you two are connected, your eyes wide as you see what looks like a belly bulge coming up from under your flesh. “ohmygodohmygodohmygod!” you’re delirious as the big, strong man above you drills into you at an unforgiving speed. his hand is large enough to wrap around the entirety of your neck, your chest caving in once you felt the band in your tummy snap.

dirty talk: rafe knew exactly what to say in order to get your cheeks heating. “you don’t think i know wet you are right now? i bet i could slip right in ya’..” you’re gasping at the lewdness of his words, hiding your face from his view as he stroked the exposed flesh of your waist. “ray!” you laughed nervously, both of you hiding in his little house that was in the back of your own. “you know i’m right.. that’s why you’re getting all shy on me right now.” he scoots closer, his lips trailing along your collarbone. “let me take this shirt off, ‘get these tits in my mouth.” being around a horny cowboy wasn’t good for your heart. “oh, my word! your mouth is filthy!”

daddy kink: the basis of you and rafe’s relationship was that you were together secretly, your father forbidding rafe from dating you, let alone looking in your direction. he wasn’t fond of your dad for that very reason. every time he’s asking you who your pussy belongs to, he’s forcing you to refer to him as a different name other than his own. “you, daddy! oh, fuck, i belong to you!” you’re crying out, the name falling from your lips before you could stop it. the fact that he had you, the farmer’s daughter, in his bed, calling him daddy when he knew your actual father hated him, stroked his ego more than your cunt did. “yeah, i’m your daddy? say it again.” you oblige, your eyes screwing shut as the plap of your ass against his thighs echoed in your ears.

mating press: seeing your glossy eyes gaze up at him while he had your knees pressed to your chest was hands down one of his favorite sights. with the back of his hands sitting underneath your hips, your lower half was slightly elevated, your needy cunt guaranteed to take all of his cum. in this position, you swore it felt like he was in your tummy. “nghhh— can’t, rafe!” you shook your head, your eyes brimming with tears as he leaned down, taking your lips in a bruising kiss. “shhh, of course you can, sweetheart, you’re doing so good for me right now.” the wet squelch of your cunt made rafe keen, his lips wet with your spit. “gonna fill you up to the fuckin’ brim..”

breeding kink: you dreamed about having cowboy!rafe’s babies, both of you always talking about having little ones running around the farm. rafe saw it vividly— your pretty round belly, swollen with his seed, a baby on your hip while you greeted him after a full day of work. it’s all he could envision while he’s pumping in and out of you, your sweet moans sounding against his skin. “i’m gonna make you such a pretty mom, baby, you just fuckin’ wait.” he grunted, throwing your legs over his shoulders as he went even deeper inside your cunt. biting back tears, you let out a half-sob as he continuously hit that sensitive spot along your velvety walls. “you’d want that, right?” rafe still asks even though his mind is already made up. “duh!”

⭑.ᐟ pogue!sweetheart!reader

spanking: rafe blamed your mini skirts for his hyper fixation with your ass. he’d be groping you every chance he could get, the spanking factor coming in when you pretended to drop something one day, your boyfriend wasting no time in draping you over his lap and giving you the attention you were so clearly asking for. he spanked you so hard, you couldn’t help but cry out every time his hot palm met your flesh. “you asked me for this, don’t forget that..” he said through gritted teeth, smirking to himself as you continued to let him spank you with an unforgiving force. rafe was always so gentle with you, you loved when he switched things up and disregarded your pain sometimes..

food play: pogue!sweetheart!reader is basically our little strawberry shortcake. always whipping things up in the kitchen with rafe pressed against her ass was bound to lead to some interesting experiments. first it was strawberries, you and rafe sharing one before he dragged the fruit up the curve of your neck, licking the sweet, succulent juice that had dripped down to you chest. the second time around, before you two decided to incorporate it more regularly, you two were having a lazy day, both of you sharing some whipped cream you had made. you had playfully licked some off of rafe’s finger before he got the crazy idea to lick it from other places, too..

cream pie: rafe was obsessed with watching his cum drip out of you. he’d pull out halfway while you were still clenching around him, forcing you to look down so you could see the glorious sight of his twitching cock filling you up before pulling out altogether. you two would wait with bated breath’s, a moan leaving your lips as you felt the warm ropes of cum slowly drip out of your entrance. rafe’s chest would be rising and falling as he used the tip of his cock to smear his seed up and down your folds, even taking the time to circle your sensitive clit. “oh, fuck, this is amazing..” he’d marvel, gathering the sticky succulence before pushing it back into you.

marathon sex: with pogue!sweetheart!reader’s camper being far away from everyone on the island, it was like you and rafe were dead to the world as you moaned and screamed as loud as you wanted. completely losing the concept of time, you and rafe went at it until someone tapped out, neither of you tiring easily when you were too busy getting thrown over the edge time and time again. one night in particular, you and rafe were doing what you usually did before bed, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusted into you and you just couldn’t get enough. both of you kept going without any intentions of stopping. it wasn’t until rafe finally called it that you two noticed the blue morning sky peeking through your curtains that you realized you had just fucked for hourssss

soft/vanilla sex: rafe loved taking his time with you, especially because he knew you were sentimental about everything. holding your hands while his head was working between your thighs, looking into your eyes the whole time he was pounding into you, the gentle touches against your skin as he hoisted you up further onto your bed, it was all his way of handling you with care. he’d peck the tip of your nose when you were cumming, his fingers bringing you down from your high as he held you against his chest. whispering praises in your ear, rafe wouldn’t start aftercare until you were gazing up at him lovingly, and that was even sweeter.

[daisymbin]

cookies & sprinklers - joshua hong

check out my masterlist! // shua's m.list

joshua punched in the passcode to seungkwan and jeonghan’s shared apartment, the beep echoing in the quiet hallway. he pushed the door open and stepped aside to let you in, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“it’s so like them to be late to their own plans,” he remarked as the lock clicked behind him.

you laughed, toeing off your shoes. “i feel like they secretly do it on purpose. but doesn’t it feel kind of wrong to just… be here without them?”

“they told us to come in,” joshua replied, calm as ever. “besides, if we waited outside, seungkwan would just call us irresponsible for standing around like we don’t know how to open a door.”

you tilted your head, smirking. “true. but it’s so quiet. what are we supposed to do?”

“we could just sit and wait like normal people,” he suggested, raising an eyebrow. “or maybe put on a movie?”

you snapped your fingers, a sudden idea sparking. “what if i baked something? as a surprise for them. seungkwan would love it.”

joshua looked skeptical, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. “in their kitchen? are you sure that’s a good idea? jeonghan’s super particular about his stuff.”

“it’ll be fine,” you waved him off, already heading to the kitchen. “i’ll make cookies. simple, sweet, and impossible to mess up.”

joshua followed reluctantly. “just don’t tell jeonghan i let you do this.”

you threw yourself into baking with enthusiasm, pulling out ingredients and chatting away. everything was fine—until it wasn’t. halfway through, a puff of flour exploded from the mixer, enveloping you and joshua in a cloud of white dust.

“okay,” he said, coughing. “not a great start, but we’re fine.”

“it’s under control!” you insisted, though your voice wavered.

then, in a moment of carelessness, the dish towel left too close to the stovetop caught fire.

“joshua!” you shrieked, pointing at the growing flames.

he didn’t miss a beat, grabbing a pitcher of water and dousing the flames in one swift motion. but before relief could set in, the apartment’s sprinklers activated, drenching you, joshua, and the entire kitchen.

“oh no,” you whispered, water dripping from your hair. “they’re going to kill us. we need to clean this all up now.” panic overtaking you.

the sound of the front door unlocking made you freeze.

“we’re here!” jeonghan’s voice called, cheerful as ever. his footsteps faltered as he entered. “what... happened?”

seungkwan followed, his expression turning from confusion to outrage in record time. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO MY KITCHEN?”

joshua quickly stepped forward, shielding you from their wrath. “it was me,” he said calmly, raising his hands. “i tried baking.”

jeonghan’s jaw dropped, his eyes narrowing dangerously. “you? you thought baking in my kitchen was a good idea?”

“you don’t even bake!” seungkwan screeched, waving his arms at the chaos. “my oven! my beautiful, perfect oven! she was pristine until you destroyed her!”

“i’ll clean it up,” joshua said, unflappable. “and i’ll replace anything that’s damaged. just... don’t be too mad.”

jeonghan crossed his arms, glaring. “oh, we’re mad. you’re never hearing the end of this.”

“i’m putting it in the group chat,” seungkwan added with a vindictive grin. “everyone’s going to know.”

“even jihoon?” joshua asked, his voice betraying a hint of concern.

jeonghan smirked. “especially jihoon.”

as they continued their tirade, jeonghan suddenly squinted at you. “wait. why are you so quiet?”

“yeah,” seungkwan agreed, his eyes narrowing. “you look guilty.”

you froze. “me? i —”

jeonghan pointed dramatically. “you're hiding something.”

“totally guilty,” seungkwan agreed. “spit it out.”

joshua stepped between you and their accusatory stares. “leave her out of this. it was all me.”

jeonghan blinked, momentarily thrown by the firmness in his voice. seungkwan hesitated, then huffed. “fine. but you owe us. big time.”

as they stomped off to inspect the damage in their closets, joshua turned to you with a soft smile. “don’t worry. they’ll forget about it in a week. maybe.”

you looked at him, water still dripping from his hair. “you really didn’t have to take the blame.”

“of course i did,” he said easily, his tone warm. “it’s my job to protect you.”

despite the chaos, a grin tugged at your lips. “thank you.”

he shrugged, the corner of his mouth lifting in that signature, gentle smile. “just don’t try to bake in anyone else’s kitchen, okay? especially not mingyu's or seungcheol's.”

[choerypetal]

Home. / Steve Harrington

summary: Once you became Billy's partner, you always knew you'd face the grief of his passing. But with your curse tied to Vecna, enduring those dark times felt even heavier. Unexpectedly, Steve stepped in, becoming a source of solace and shelter for both you and your fractured heart.

ps; english isn't my first language so i truly apologize for some grammar errors or syntax in play. enjoy!

Seeing Billy’s lifeless body at Starcourt Mall was the cruel finale to it all.

An enemy, a friend, and finally a lover—your relationship with Billy had always puzzled those around you, Steve included. Maxine could hardly fathom how her brother and you had ended up together. It was like a cliché from a romance story, and Billy had no qualms about flaunting it, much to the disgust of those who couldn’t stomach your connection.

But amidst the chaos, something beautiful had blossomed. Until the moment of Billy’s last breath—leaving you adrift, unable to find solace or sanity in his absence.

You were certain Vecna wouldn’t come for you—or so you hoped after witnessing Billy’s transformation into something whole and purified. Yet, during those days, you and Billy had grown distant. His job at the Hawkins pool didn’t help; his good looks naturally drew attention, stirring a mix of unease and concern within you. Deep down, you worried about his health—and you had every reason to.

Today marked the first anniversary of his death. Maxine had invited you to visit his grave that morning. The dark circles under your eyes betrayed the restless night you’d had, while your messy hair and the way your fingers clung tightly to Billy’s jacket spoke volumes.

Steve and the others were invited to come along. Since the cemetery was hours away from Hawkins, walking wasn’t an option, and Steve had offered to drive everyone. It wasn’t just for Maxine, or even to pay respect to Billy, despite the fact that Steve had never forgiven him for being an unapologetic jerk. Steve did it, above all, for you.

Steve had seen the changes in you—how you had transformed after being cursed by Vecna. Your body was different, your voice carried a detached tone, and a numbness seemed to cling to you. Neither of you could figure out how to mend what was broken. In his concern, Steve even asked Robin to check in on you once, though you refused her presence. He wasn’t surprised but had hoped for some flicker of the person you used to be. Yet, those glimpses weren’t enough for him. He needed more—needed to hold you, to wrap you in his arms and assure you that you could trust him.

But trust was a fragile thing, especially when you were already struggling with feelings for someone new.

You appreciated Steve’s efforts. From the cookies he brought for Maxine and Susan, courtesy of his mother, to his insistence on staying overnight just to make sure you were okay. It was on one of those nights—one where sleep seemed like an impossible luxury—that his presence felt especially grounding.

The nightmares, however, refused to be silenced. “Y/N...” Billy’s voice echoed endlessly in your mind, haunting you. There were moments you convinced yourself he wasn’t truly gone, that he was somehow alive. And in your mind, he was—always there, just out of reach.

“Y/N…” His voice kept calling you. No, you weren’t going to fall for it. Not this time.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snapped open, your back jolting upright from the sudden shock. As your breathing steadied, you realized it wasn’t him—it was your mother. She stood at the edge of your bed, her expression etched with concern. A sigh escaped your lips as you placed a hand over your chest, grounding yourself in the reality that it had all been just another nightmare.

“Yes, Mother? What’s the urgency?” you asked groggily, a yawn escaping as you rubbed at your tired eyes. “It’s only…” Your gaze flickered to the clock. “8:00 AM on a Saturday?”

Your mother chuckled softly at your confusion, a hint of amusement in her calm demeanor. Yet there was something more, something hopeful in her expression. “Silly, your father and I are going out for dinner tonight to celebrate our anniversary. You’ll be okay on your own, won’t you? I know things haven’t been the easiest…”

The mention of it—a veiled reference to everything you’d been through—stung, but you masked it with a small, practiced smile. “Of course, don’t worry. I’ll lock the doors and—”

But that wasn’t what she meant, and you both knew it. Her smile faded, replaced by a gentle seriousness. “You know what I mean, sweetie,” she said softly, sitting on the edge of your bed. You lowered your gaze to your hands, fingers nervously picking at each other. A silent sigh escaped your lips. You understood her concern—it was impossible to ignore.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” 

Clearly, you weren’t okay, but it was the only way you knew how to cope. As the hours passed, you found solace in the pages of a good book, letting the world around you blur into the background.

Then came a knock at the door.

You hesitated, debating whether you should even bother answering. Deep down, you hoped it was just the postman with a routine delivery. But the knock came again, a little more insistent this time. “Coming!” you called out, irritation slipping into your tone as you set the book aside on your mattress and got up. Descending the stairs, you heard another knock, louder and more impatient.

“Coming! Geez,” you muttered under your breath, annoyance growing as you reached for the doorknob. Whoever thought it was appropriate to knock this insistently at this hour had better have a damn good reason, you thought. When you finally swung the door open, Steve’s silhouette greeted you, framed by the golden rays of the early morning sun. He stood there, a tray of familiar cookies balanced in his arms, a sheepish grin tugging at his face.

“Took you long enough,” he teased lightly.

“You better have a good reason for dragging me out of bed at...” you trailed off, leaning back to glance at the clock hanging on the wall. “At 9:00 AM? Not that I don’t appreciate your—”

“Just wanted to bring these cookies,” Steve said, the lie hanging in the air. It wasn’t convincing—because, of course, Steve didn’t just show up with cookies for no reason. Especially not when you could have been peacefully reading your book. But he didn’t seem to care about the timing, and your unconvinced expression only deepened his hesitation.

“Fine,” he relented, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn’t come over just for the cookies. But…” His words trailed off as he struggled to find the right way to explain. Finally, he continued, “I overheard your mom talking to mine this morning while I was giving Dustin a ride to the arcade. I couldn’t—”

You sighed, cutting him off as realization dawned on you. Of course your mother had called Steve’s mother. Not only were they neighbors, living just a few blocks apart, but they’d also been close friends since high school. A good mother had every right to worry, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

Gently, you took the tray from Steve’s hands, the weight of it grounding you in the moment. Without saying a word, you stepped aside, silently inviting him in. “Fine… I guess your presence doesn’t hurt anybody,” you said, your tone resigned.

Steve exhaled in relief, doing his best to mask how thrilled he felt at your approval. He couldn’t deny how glad he was to see you—even with everything you’d been through, even with the weight you carried.

As he followed you to your room, his gaze flickered over the space. He noticed them immediately: the remnants of Billy still lingering, tucked into corners, sitting on shelves, woven into your world. A jacket draped over a chair. A photo resting on your nightstand.

It was something you’d once explained to him—it was your way of coping. Billy had been a part of your life for nearly a year, a year in which you’d shared so much with him. Secrets. Fears. Dreams. You had been the only person Billy had trusted enough to tell about his father, about the real reason they moved to Hawkins, about why he acted the way he did. You had been his calm amidst the chaos, his anchor in a storm.

But now, what is home when the one you love is… gone?

“Loving the new David Bowie poster,” Steve remarked, trying to lighten the mood. You appreciated the attempt, but instead of responding, you buried yourself back into your book. Noticing this, he leaned forward, reaching toward it as if to snatch it from your hands.

“No, no, no reading, miss,” he teased, pulling his hand back with a grin.

Your lips formed a pout as you furrowed your brows in mock irritation. “I said you could stay here, but that doesn’t mean you get to do anything either,” you shot back, earning a scoff from him.

Arms now crossed, he slumped onto the corner of your bed with a dramatic sigh. “Then what am I supposed to do?” You glanced around the room before your lips curled into a smug smirk. Without a word, you tossed a book in his direction, and it landed squarely on his chest with a dull thud. The impact made him flinch, his eyes closing briefly in exaggerated pain.

“Shit, Y/N. A book? Really?” he grumbled, glaring at you as you chuckled at his expense.

“Books are a great way to learn things,” you retorted with a playful shrug. “Maybe you could figure out how to leave people alone when they want some peace.”

Steve’s glare deepened, his brows knitting together in mock annoyance. “Haha, very funny,” he muttered, his fingers brushing reluctantly over the pages. It was exactly the type of book he’d normally ignore—or toss aside entirely. Why read so many words on a page when you could just watch something instead?

Still, as he sat there, he noticed how engrossed you were in your own book, completely tuned out of his presence. Sighing, he realized he had no choice but to play along. He wasn’t about to leave, not now, and certainly not when he’d already figured out your little game. You glanced up toward Steve, hoping he might finally give up and leave. But to your surprise, you had to blink a few times to confirm what you were seeing. Steve was actually reading? He was completely fixated on the plot, his brow furrowed in concentration. Suddenly, a gasp escaped his mouth, and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

Hearing you, Steve glanced over with one brow arched. “What? Now you don’t want me to read?” he asked, feigning an almost-offended look and exaggerating it for effect. “I dare you to even mention to the kids—or my mom—that you made me read.” Another chuckle slipped from your lips. “Oh, Steve. Your secret is safe with me,” you replied with a teasing grin.

By the time evening rolled around, the two of you were both drained, the unexpected task of reading proving more exhausting than either of you expected. Steve let out a soft yawn, stretching his arms after hours of sitting still. At some point, without realizing it, you found yourself nestled in his arms. A soft snore escaped from his lips as he shifted slightly in his sleep, his grip tightening around you. You stirred awake, only to realize where you were—and more importantly, how close you were. Steve’s head was nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

Your cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink as you became acutely aware of the situation. “St-Steve…” you whispered, attempting to wiggle free from his hold.

But Steve, even in his sleep, seemed to have other plans. His grip refused to loosen, and you let out a flustered sigh, realizing he might be more aware than he appeared.

“No…” he murmured softly, his voice low and insistent. “I need you… Y/N.”

His words made your heart skip a beat. It was then you began to piece it all together—the reason for Steve’s frequent visits, his unwavering presence. The realization hit you like a wave: Steve had feelings for you, and somewhere along the way, you had grown feelings for him too.

Though he had always respected your relationship with Billy, there was something undeniable about the connection you shared with Steve. It was a quiet truth you couldn’t ignore—your heart had spoken, and it told you what you’d been too afraid to admit. That feeling of home you thought you’d lost? It was right here.

“Stay with me…” Steve mumbled in his half-asleep state, his words slurring slightly as he pressed a gentle, sleepy kiss to your neck.

Your lips curved into a soft smile as you whispered, “I will…”

“Forever.”

[mangoshorthand]

A Hargreeves Christmas Carol | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader | Ch4

SUMMARY: Luther is the sort of idiot who goes around with a 'Merry Christmas' and a goofy smile on his lips. In your opinion, he should be roasted with his own turkey and buried with a stake of holly through his heart. Who better to teach you the error of your ways than Luther's brother, the man who holds the power of Christmases Past, Present, and Yet to Come in the palm of his hand? Info/Announcement Post

<< Read Chapter Three

Chapter Four (Rated M, 4.3k words)

The Last of the Spirits

As the living room cleared of his family, their Christmas ruined by the argument, Five succeeded in priming the briefcase. He reached out as if to take your upper arm and vanish with you into the previous evening, but you jumped out of his reach. 

“No Five. Show me the future! Show me the nuclear armageddon all this is supposed to cause. Because, based on what I just saw, this is your fault, not mine.” 

You reached out a finger and jabbed him hard in the chest, withdrawing quickly lest he use the opportunity to grab you. 

“You’re going home,” he said, firmly.

“I am not!” you yelled, stamping your foot in frustration, “take me to the future and prove to me that you haven’t been lying for an opportunity to get in my pants!”

Five tossed his head angrily, shaking his fists at his sides in equal frustration and making the briefcase hit him hard in the leg. 

“Don’t flatter yourself” he spat, “You think I’d do all this just for that?”

And then, after a slight pause:

“You think I’d try to scare you into fucking me, is that it?

“I don’t know what to believe!” you cried. 

Five took two or three angry breaths and chewed the inside of his cheek before he responded.

“I didn’t lie to get into your pants,” he said, sounding bitter, but slightly calmer “And, technically, I didn’t lie to you at all. I never actually said you caused nuclear armageddon. I just let you believe it.”

“WHAT?”

“I said that upsetting Luther could potentially cause nuclear armageddon, which is true: actions like those can, indirectly, lead to apocalyptic events. I never actually said it did in this case, however.”

You seized a bookend off a nearby shelf and threw it at him, hard. He, of course, blinked and reappeared a short distance away, leaving the bookend to smash against the wall. 

“I guess I would have deserved that.” Five said, eyeing the bookend as it faded back into being on the bookshelf. 

“YOU FUCKING PSYCHOPATH.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I know I shouldn’t -”

“YOU BASTARD!”

“I know,” he replied, a pleading note in his voice now, “but if you just-”

“YOU ARE BARRED. TAKE ME HOME, AND THEN NEVER SHOW YOUR FACE IN MY BAR AGAIN. I NEVER WANT TO SEE YOU AGAIN!”

Five held up the hand not holding the briefcase.

“Fine, okay. I get it. But will you let me explain?”

You breathed like an angry bull, your fists clenched so hard it felt like you’d never be able to relax them again, but gave a resentful nod.

“Thank you,” he said, putting the briefcase down on one of the couches and sitting on its arm, facing you. 

“I guess it was my fault. I just…I guess I tried to blame you because that was easier than facing the fact I ruined Christmas for Luther… and for everyone else.”

You let out a huff, but his face kept you from an angry expostulation for the time being, and he continued: 

“But Sloane was right. You and I are similar. We’re both kind of misanthropic: we push the people who care about us away. It might not lead to an apocalypse, but it’s hardly gonna spell good news for us in the future.”

His expression appealed to yours, and you found it hard to maintain the same level of anger as you saw the honest-to-God anxiety in his face.

“I got a second chance to live my life,” he continued, quietly, “and I’m already fucking it up. You only got one life, and I don’t want to see you fuck it up either.”

You looked back at him, at his beautiful, infuriating, and wholly sincere face. Not for the first time that night, you felt the strange urge to cry. 

What was even stranger was the urge to cry on his shoulder. 

“I think you’re right,” he said.

“About what?” you asked, frowning.

“We should go see the future. Check in on you and I in, say, ten years time? See how bad it gets?”

The idea, though you’d been fiercely advocating for it only a minute or so earlier, suddenly filled you with a thrill of uncertain horror. Perhaps it was the effect of his speech, but to have such unnatural knowledge, impossible in the normal course of things, seemed now too terrible to comprehend. 

Nevertheless, you nodded silently, your legs starting to tremble beneath you. 

“Good,” Five said, and held out his hand. 

You took it. As he ran his thumb over the back of your hand, the fear became a little more bearable. 

“I really am sorry,” he said, seriously, still holding your eyes with his.

“I'll forgive you,” you replied, and squeezed his fingers. 

He smiled softly and let your hand go, reaching behind him for the briefcase once more.

“Okay,” he said, balancing it on one knee and playing with the dials, “since it’s still my hair in the briefcase, we may as well visit me first.”

The case clicked and whirred as, with a flourish, he finished his calibration. 

“Ready to see how shit my life gets?”

He looked up at you with a grin, took your hand again, and you both vanished into the now-familiar static.

You emerged in another living room, almost as different as it was possible to be from the one you just left. It was dingy, lit by a single bulb uncovered by any sort of shade.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Five murmured, looking around disdainfully. 

You had overcome your fear for now, and you looked around the living room with interest. 

It was clean at least, but the furnishings left a lot to be desired. There was a single recliner in the center of the carpet facing a TV mounted on the wall in front of you. There was also a squashed looking chesterfield, which seemed as if it was only there for form’s sake; a vague gesture at the idea of having guests.

Other than that, there was a small table beside the recliner and a couple of IKEA-looking bookcases, each filled to the brim with books. Otherwise, the room was empty. 

“Well, I’m definitely still single.” Five said, nodding to the sparse decor slightly bitterly, “Figures.”

“Yep, it’s not great,” you confirmed, grimacing.

He glanced down at the briefcase and then around the room again.

“It’s definitely Christmas Eve,” he said, “but I guess I got nobody to put up a tree for. What would be the point?”

There was a voice from the other room and you both fell silent.

“Oh, that’s great. Tell him I say hi.” 

It was Five’s voice, and it was followed a half second later by Five himself coming into the room. 

“Really?” the Five beside you said, a mixture of disappointment and incredulity in his voice. 

The decade-older Five was wearing a pair of pajama pants, no shirt, and was sporting a chevron mustache that didn't suit him. He held a phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, and his well-abused slippers shushed against the carpet. 

He was carrying a beer in one hand and what looked like some sort of frozen dinner in the other: constituted beef packaged into steak-esque shapes was sitting on a bed of soggy green beans. On the side, there was a dump of watery potato puree masquerading as mashed. 

“This is so depressing,” Five said, cringing at the sight of himself.

“That mustache does make you look like a child molester,” you agreed.

“Thanks." 

“Mm-hm,” said the future Five, placing his sad meal on the table and settling himself in the recliner, facing away from you, “well that’s nice to hear. Did the gifts for the kids arrive...Good, good.”

He picked up the beer and took a swig, using the remote to turn on the TV and immediately mute it, flicking through the channels as he spoke on the phone. 

“Me? Oh, I’m fine. Just relaxing, you know?”

He paused in his channel surfing on a showing of Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, set down the control and watched it as he continued the conversation.

“You know me, I hate Christmas … Yeah, I’m happy as hell here.”

Five winced beside you. 

“I’m guessing that’s a lie?” you murmured, looking at your Five sidelong.

“Yup,” Five said, grimly, “the only thing I hate worse than people is being alone.”

Five’s future self lifted his dinner onto his lap and speared a limp green bean onto his fork.

“How’s Luther?” he said, “Life and soul of the party, right? … Sure, sure … good for you.”

He took a few more bites of his meal, ‘uh-huh-ing’ and ‘mm-hm-ing’ occasionally at the voice on the other end of the line. 

 Well,” he said, an almost undetectable tinge of sadness in his voice now, “maybe next year.”

His tone made it so clear that he didn’t hold out much hope that you didn’t even bother conferring with the Five beside you.

“You guys got your New Years planned? … Nice, nice … do you know what everyone else is doing?”

He stayed quiet as he listened, eating some more and throwing out another mm-hm or uh-huh as the conversation required. 

“Huh?” he said, eventually. “I’ll probably hit the bars with a couple of friends. Maybe do the big countdown in Times Square or wherever.”

“I’m lying,” Five said to you, flatly.

“Yeah, yeah,” the Five in the chair continued, “well I’ll - what? … Oh. No, that’s fine. Have fun tomorrow. I gotta go now anyway … alright … yeah, Happy Christmas. Bye Vik.”

When the call ended, he put down his knife and fork for a few moments, sighed, and then lifted his eyes back to the TV and began eating once more. 

“This is what I get.” Five said dully, watching himself finish the last third of his meal. 

You looked from the Five facing away from you in the chair to the Five beside you, his expression haunted.

“But this is just a future that might be, right?” you said, half asking, half attempting to reassure him, “This isn’t set in stone.”

“If I don’t get my shit together, this is where I’ll be.”

“But you talk like you’re past all hope,” you said, bracingly, “You just have to make a change.”

“Yeah,” he said, though not sounding convinced. 

“And even if you get like this, it’s not like it’s too late to make it right! You’re, what, in your thirties here?” 

“Over eighty,” Five said. 

“Well, whatever,” you continued, “the one thing you got is time. If that Five pulled his finger out of his ass, he could go fix it. It’s not like anyone’s dead.”

As you spoke, the older Five finished his meal and began to channel surf again.

“I was alone for a very long time.” your Five said, “It does something to you.”

You watched him in silence as he continued. 

“When my brain was developing the finer points of empathy, I didn’t have anyone around to empathize with. There was nobody real to practice on while my brain was still plastic.”

You looked from him to the Five in the chair, considering him as you listened. 

“I feel like…maybe I’m doomed.” Five continued, “This is my mind’s comfort zone; nobody around to force me to be an actual human being. Nobody to challenge me, nobody to compromise for. Nobody to force me to be better by expecting more of me.”

Your attention was suddenly caught by the television.

“Uh, Five?”

“It’s like I’m stuck in this pattern of -”

“Five, seriously.”

This got his attention, and he looked at the TV in horror.

“Oh my god!” he cried, almost dropping the briefcase.

On the screen, there were two women gyrating against one another in barely-there Santa-themed lingerie. From the chair, a rhythmic shuffling sound confirmed the worst. 

Horrified, Five grabbed you by the back of your sweater, pulled you out of the room and into a sad looking bedroom. 

“I am so, so sorry!” he said, sitting down heavily on the bed and hiding his face in his hands, “I can’t believe you had to see that!”

You tried extremely hard to keep the laughter in, but a little burst bounds despite your best efforts. 

“I’m sorry,” you said back to him, looking up at you with a red, mortified face made even worse by your reaction, “I’m really sorry to laugh, I don’t want to embarrass you. It was just so unexpected!”

He hid his head in his hands again and groaned, just as the Five from the living room gave an audible groan of his own.

This was too much, and you fell into helpless giggles.

“I’m - s-so ….sorry!” you managed, struggling to speak against laughter that had you doubled over and leaning against the wall for support, “I’m not… I’m not j-judging you, it’s j-just… really f-f-f-funny!”

You struggled to get ahold of yourself, managing it with difficulty, and Five recovered himself just enough to look up at you, mortified. 

“I’m glad one of us is enjoying this at least.”

At this, all your hard work was undone and you bent double again, breathless with laughter.

“T-t-two of us are enjoying it!” you wheezed, gesturing in the direction of Five’s counterpart. 

Five’s face crumpled, but then a pained snort forced its way out, and then he was laughing too. 

“I can’t believe I masturbate to cable porn.” he said, agony in his voice, “That’s the worst part!”

You sat down beside him on the bed and put your arm around his shoulders, giggling breathlessly, his own reluctant laughter just adding to the hilarity. 

In this manner, the laughter gradually faded, and you finished up leaning against one another, still chuckling occasionally. 

Turning to him, you looked at his expression. Though he still looked amused, there was equal humiliation and misery in the lines of his face.

“Listen to me,” you said, softly, “you’re not doomed to loneliness and cable porn. You’re not… you’re not broken, maybe just a little bent.”

“Thanks,” he murmured, bowing his head and letting it rest gently against yours. 

He let out a little breath, as if he were laying down a heavy burden he knew he would have to pick up again all too soon. 

At this close quarters, you could smell that menthol scent again; eucalyptus, perhaps a hint of citrus.

And, rather like the night you wiped salt away from his chin, your body acted without your brain’s involvement. 

You pressed your lips to his scarlet temple, and then withdrew. 

Five looked surprised, and he lifted his head to look at you, only a few inches apart. 

“Thanks,” he said, again, though he mouthed it this time, the word barely articulated.

You looked at each other, caught in this strange, frozen moment. Both of you sat there, paralysed, completely unsure what might happen next.

And then, a particularly drawn out moan from the living room snapped you both back to reality. Apparently the other Five wasn’t far off finishing his visit to the land of cable porn. 

“We should go,” Five said, quickly, drawing away from you quickly and fumbling in his breast pocket for the vial containing your hair.

“Sounds good,” you said, brightly, hiding the awkwardness with jollity. 

There were a few exquisitely embarrassing moments as Five exchanged the hairs in which his older self was putting on rather the auditory show.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Five chanted as he worked, finally succeeding in slamming the DNA housing back into place and setting the briefcase.

With no preamble, he grabbed your arm and you both thankfully vanished into the ether. 

When you rematerialized, it was to find yourself in your bar on a busy night. 

“Thank God.” Five said, still bright pink.

He looked briefly down at the briefcase:

“Yep, same night.”

The bar looked relatively unchanged, though the fixtures and fittings had been upgraded at some point in the ten years that lay between you and this permutation of Maggie’s. There was the same half-assed tinsel around the window frame as the sole concession to the fact it was Christmas Eve.

On the corner table, a group of men donning Santa hats were singing an uproarious version of Jingle Bells, their drinks up over their heads and swaying in unison. 

There you were, behind the crowded bar as usual, shaking a cocktail with one hand and pulling a pint of lager with the other, working with the same, ruthless energy you always did, face hard and steely in concentration. 

Robbie was gone, it seemed, because you didn’t recognise the two employees helping to fend off the rest of the crowd of customers baying for booze and jacked up on Christmas cheer.

“This doesn’t seem fair,” Five said, “You’re doing great, but a few miles away I’m…wanking into a TV dinner like Ebenezer Splooge!”

“I look so much older,” you said, not listening and instead eyeing the first hint of crow’s feet emerging around your eyes.

“You look great,” Five said, impatiently, “This just proves that I’m the problem. You’re perfectly happy, and I'm a mess.”

He watched you almost wistfully, both envying your future and admiring your command, as he always found himself doing whenever he visited Maggie’s. You really were a sight to see behind that bar, and ten years had only added more skill. 

As another large table began to join in with the Jingle Bells guys, you said something that Five didn’t quite catch, and he tore his eyes away from the future you to look at the you beside him.

He was surprised to see tears streaming down your face.

“I’m not happy!” 

You fell against his chest and cried tears more violent than any you’d cried that night.

Five stood there, bewildered, as your desperate tears began to soak through his shirt. 

“Okay, okay,” he said, soothingly, “I’m gonna take you home, alright?”

He fiddled with the briefcase with difficulty, peering over your shoulder to set it where he held it behind your back. With a couple of pushes of buttons, he succeeded, and you were at last standing once more in your darkened living room, the high wind buffering the windows. 

Five looked briefly down at the briefcase for confirmation.

“Ten minutes after we left,” he murmured, satisfied, “Quantum suspension engaged, so no doppelganger for me. We’re good to go from here.”

This done, he lowered you both onto the couch, letting the briefcase bump down softly onto the floor. 

For a few moments, he simply held you against him, and then he shifted his grip to hold you by the shoulders in order to look into your face. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked, “Why did seeing that make you cry?”

You shook your head and closed your eyes to weep once more, sobs overtaking you.

“Hey,” Five said, shaking you gently, “given all the shit you've seen about me tonight, you can at least tell me that!”

When this didn’t yield the desired result, he sighed and pulled you back against his shoulder.

“Okay, cry it out for now, but I’m not leaving until you tell me.”

You did cry it out, sniffling against his pure white shirt without a worry for how much you might be ruining it. Right now, he felt warm and safe. His was the only comfort you could imagine taking as waves of revelation broke upon you. 

His was the only comfort you could take, you realized.

Many of your bridges were burned, others had simply rotted away from lack of maintenance, and others yet had been severed by the loss of the other side. The end result was the same: you were very short on bridges. 

In truth, Luther, Robbie, and Five’s bridges were probably the only three you had left.

Luther had maintained his well, without your help, yet earlier today you’d launched a Molotov cocktail at it, leaving it in danger of burning down if you didn’t take action.

Robbie’s was a thin and sickly little bridge, barely a bridge at all. It could have been stronger, you knew, if only you’d allowed him to build as he wanted. 

And Five’s? Right now, it was the only one that could support your weight. It was untested before tonight, yet it was standing firm beneath your feet.

“I’m not happy,” you repeated, when your sobs had subsided enough to allow you to speak, “I haven’t been happy for a long, long time.”

Five’s arms tightened around you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured.

“Ever since my grandma died. I’ve felt…”

You broke, took a couple of breaths, and tried a different way of explaining it. 

“I looked at myself behind that bar, and I realized I have no idea who that woman is.”

Five nodded slowly, though you could tell he didn’t really understand. 

“I don’t know who I am. I don’t know what I want. I just know that I don’t want to be her in ten years’ time.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Because she’s exactly the same as I am now!”

Five gave another of those slow nods, processing. 

“Tell me if I’m way off base,” he said, tentatively, as if he’d just drawn a tenuous red line between points in his mind, “your grandma died, and you took over Maggie’s immediately, right? When you were twenty one?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think that maybe you threw yourself into managing the place to avoid… actually grieving her?”

You made a small, wounded noise, a fresh wave of tears descended, and you nodded against his chest.

He reclined on the couch, taking you with him as he fumbled behind you to pull a blanket over you. It was warm, comforting, and it made you cry harder in relief.

“Maggie’s was never your baby,” he said, softly, “it was hers.”

You nodded.

“Do you even like running it?”

You shook your head, admitting it for the first time with a shuddering outward breath.

“Everything she did for me. I can’t just let that go. That bar was everything to her.”

Five shook his head.

“You think she gave you that bar so that you could chain yourself to it?”

“No.”

“Then sell it.”

“No!”

“Well, then find something in the middle!” 

You sniffled and took a few moments to regain some composure. 

“I don’t like managing the bar, but I like mixology. When I make cocktails, it reminds me of her and it feels good.”

“Then stick with mixology and ditch the rest,” he said, as if it were obvious.

You shook your head.

“I can’t let her down. If - if I don’t make it a success then… then I’ll be proving she was wrong to trust me with it.”

“Sounds like you got your thinking backwards to me,” Five scoffed. 

“What do you mean?”

“You said she always fought for you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re acting like she raised you just to make sure there would be someone around to make Maggie’s a success. Seems more likely that she worked her ass off in the bar to make sure she could leave something behind for you.”

You couldn’t help but see the logic in this, but still, something niggled:

“The bar’s her legacy. I can’t abandon it.”

“You’re her legacy, idiot.”

His logic had done little to dispel your doubts, but this emotional truth smashed through them with the force of a wrecking ball. 

You remembered her twinkling at you at fifteen as she taught you to make your first margaria, you remembered her beaming with pride when you first made a cosmo by heart, and you remembered her on her deathbed, pressing her rhinestone necklace into your hand and telling you how proud she was, how successful you’d be. 

You remembered her taking her in your arms and making you feel safe while your parents screamed. 

It wasn’t the bar, it was you. It was always you. 

And you were crying once more: hot, cleansing, healing tears.

“I miss her,” you hiccuped against Five’s chest. 

“I know,” he said, stroking your hair.

For the next several minutes, you cried yourself dry. And then you felt better. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, slightly hoarsely, “I cried all over your shirt.”

“I don’t mind,” Five said.

In truth, he could have stayed there all night with you in his arms, wet shirt or not. You stopping crying was bittersweet: your grief was over, but it meant that soon he’d have to stir himself, say his goodbyes and probably never touch you like this ever again. 

“Can I get you a nightcap?” you asked. 

“Sure.”

You extracted yourself from him and looked on the kitchen shelf that stored your private booze. 

“Tequila shot?” you asked him, with a mischievous grin. 

“Perfect,” he smiled back.

God, the pain your little grin caused him. Like a knife to his stomach. 

You returned to the couch with two shots of tequila and held one out to him. He took it with thanks, and you sat down again. 

Five raised his glass.

“To Maggie,” he said.

“To you,” you countered, “the man who said he didn’t have enough empathy.”

Five chuckled, and you clinked your glasses together before throwing them back, revelling in the heat as it went down. 

“I’d better take my leave,” Five said, when he’d recovered from the shot.

You nodded, and you both stood.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’d like you to come for Christmas tomorrow. But no pressure. I’m going to do things differently on my end this time, and none of that’s on you.”

“Thank you,” you said.

He bent, picked up the briefcase, and you followed him to your apartment door. There, he turned to look at you and held out his hand once more.

“Happy Holidays,” you said, solemnly, taking his outstretched hand.

Five raised your linked hands to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of yours.

“Happy Holidays,” he replied, and left.

Read Chapter Five >> (Final chapter coming Christmas Eve!) I FEED OFF COMMENTS AND REBLOGS YUM YUM YUM

The Last of the Spirits — The Pointing Finger by John Leech, 1843 in Dickens' A Christmas Carol, first edition (1843).

Dickens' A Christmas Carol full text available here.

Read it! It's a much better than this, and you can see how many lines I stole verbatim or clumsily referenced.

Dividers used in this series by @bernardsbendystraws (garland) and @strangergraphics (lights) My husband (Mr Mango) also wishes it to be known that he came up with Ebenezer Splooge. It was him, it was him, it was all him! Here he is, at the bottom, where he belongs.

Taglist: @nevbrooke-555, @fiannee, @abeeabee6969, @chalametabingbong, @lolawassad, @icantpickanamefromonefandom @thebearmage @kaybreezy3000, @starlitflora (comment to be added or removed)

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[mossangelll]

yandere!viktor x reader

machine herald controlling you you to the point of infantilisation⁉️

this is probably on the fringe for a lot of people but the idea of a yandere going to such extremes because they “know what’s best for you” and experiencing such a dehumanising loss of agency scratches an itch for me

tw: forced age regression, uncomfortable dynamics, forced drugging, toxic behaviour

“Do you want the crayons or the storybook, hm?” he holds them up to you in either hand, “Speak up for me. I know my darling can do it.” If you didn’t know any better about him and the horrific things he’s capable of, you would honestly believe the gentle cadence paired with his own unique twang was calming and paternal.

What a sick fuck.

He had that smarmy grin plastered to his face as he watched you in silence, waiting for a response that obviously would never come. After all, he made you a makeshift pacifier that was strapped inside your mouth using soft fabric that also wrapped around your hands. He took your voice and mobility all in one fell swoop and you were helpless against him.

“Aw, poor little thing. You must be tired, eh?” His cold metal hand comes to press against your forehead, thumb easing away the tension etched there.

He hoists you up with ease from where you were sat at your miniature table and carries you over to a large mattress in the corner of your room, what he’s lovingly dubbed your “crib” due to the child-friendly gates surrounding it, and places you amongst the sea of soft plushies and pillows.

He sits down next to you on the edge of the bed and smooths the stray hairs that have come out out your immaculate hair do, one he did for you, of course. He wants to be a reassuring presence for you but as you lay before him, you feel bile rise in your throat.

The frustration continues to well up and your eyes burn with unshed tears until you can’t hold them back anymore and you sob. But even your cries come out muffled and you’re not able to truly express the anguish that rages inside of you, a freedom that is your birthright.

Why, out of everyone, did you end up with this psycho that treats you like a child?

Viktor lets out a soft gasp and immediately crouches down by your side. “Shh darling, everything will be ok. Seeing you like this makes me very upset, you know.” He coos but the wide smile he doesn’t even bother to hide tells a different story.

He leaves you for just a moment, fearful of what kind of accidents you could get into in his absence, he once said. You rolled your eyes at the time, still fighting for your independence with venomous words and sharp rebuttals, and was promptly punished for your disobedience. It wasn’t the first time and definitely won’t the last, but now you’re more accepting of your position with Viktor’s - better to make your life easier by giving into his unusual desires than be punished again and again and again until you finally learn your lesson.

He comes back with a steaming mug of hot chocolate, cooled just enough that it wouldn’t burn your mouth.

He pulls a vial full of a pale yellow liquid out of his pocket and drops two splashes of it into your drunk before giving it a good stir. He does this in plain view of you, knowing that there’s nothing you can do to stop him. Though your untrusting gaze cuts right through him, he continues on not caring about what you think is “moral”. He scoffs at such black and white thinking; you don’t have the knowledge and power he does, so how could you ever care for yourself the way he can?

“Drink up, darling. You’ll feel right as rain in no time.” He doesn’t give you the option of declining as he’s quick to pull out your pacifier and press the mug against your lips, cradling your head forwards so you don’t choke.

The hot chocolate is rich and velvety, smooth and indulgent with a slight edge you’re not quite able to place. Something of his invention, no doubt. Viktor often forbade you from eating too many sweets so this was clearly his way of placating you, baiting you into being on your best behaviour.

It’s unnerving, the way his curious amber eyes stare into yours with no intention of looking away, as if you were a perplexing equation he needed to find the solution to. You were simply something he needed to fix, a small stepping stone that meant nothing in his greater plan to solve humanity’s suffering.

Your head feels cloudy as you slowly fall into a smaller version of yourself, one that’s scared of the dark and cries whenever Viktor leaves.

You hate that he’s reduced you to a shadow of your former self, forcing you to act like a child while you frantically grip onto the disintegrating remnants of your past life. You hate the way your eyes start to flicker as drowsiness engulfs each of your senses - you especially hate feeling like you’re rolling over and simply allowing him do as he pleases, but as much as you wish to protest and scream you’re rendered still by whatever concoction he spiked your drink with.

Either way, he would probably get some depraved enjoyment out of you having a tantrum, since it only goes to prove that you need him to look after you and you’d rather not supply him with more fodder for the fire.

Viktor begins to hum a childhood song from the undercity but when the melody reaches your ears, it’s dampened like your head is submerged deep underwater.

He reaches for your hand which you limply grab onto with what little strength you have left, “There, there, little one. Close your eyes and sleep. You’re safe here.”

And sleep you do.

[psychoticfemmm]

Hia! Can you do another Peter Parker x Stark! Reader, I absolutely loved your last one. Could the plotline be along the lines of : Tony walks into your room and finds you and Peter asleep cuddling after you snuck him in the night before. Maybe the whole team gets involved and starts taking photos for blackmail 🤣 Thank you!

 Caught in the Act

pairing: Peter Parker x stark!reader

summary: read the request

The sunlight streamed through your bedroom curtains, falling perfectly on the two of you. Peter Parker’s arm was draped over your waist, his face nuzzled into your neck. His warm breath tickled your skin, and you groaned softly, stirring from your sleep.

The events of the night before were hazy but thrilling: a whispered phone call, Peter scaling the side of the Avengers Tower, and an impromptu movie marathon that ended with the two of you tangled up in each other’s arms.

Peter shifted in his sleep, his nose brushing against your collarbone. A soft hum escaped him, and you smiled, reaching up to lightly ruffle his messy curls.

“Good morning, lovebirds.”

The unmistakable voice of Tony Stark shattered the moment.

Your eyes snapped open, and your heart dropped. Standing at the foot of your bed was your dad, his arms crossed and an expression caught between amusement and absolute mortification.

“D-Dad?!” you stammered, sitting up abruptly. Peter groaned at the sudden movement, blinking himself awake.

“Morning, Mr. Stark,” Peter mumbled sleepily before realizing where he was and who was standing there. His eyes went wide, and he bolted upright. “MR. STARK! I—uh—this isn’t what it looks like!”

Tony raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Really? Because it looks like Spider-Boy snuck into my daughter’s room and decided to cuddle his way into trouble.”

“Dad, it’s not like that!” you protested, though your flushed face said otherwise.

“Oh, so it’s worse,” Tony quipped, cutting you off. “Got it. And by the way, the entire team is outside, loving this.”

Your jaw dropped. “You didn’t.”

“Oh, I did,” Tony replied smugly. “Because if I have to suffer through this, everyone else does too.”

Right on cue, the door creaked open, and Steve Rogers stepped in, his phone out and snapping a picture. “Morning, kiddos. Cute couple pose, by the way.”

“STEVE!” you yelled, grabbing a pillow and chucking it at him.

Natasha followed, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk. “Aw, I remember young love. You guys were adorable—until Stark called us in for backup.”

“Seriously?” Peter groaned, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh, it’s not just us,” Natasha added as Thor poked his head in.

“Why was I not informed of this bonding moment?” Thor boomed, grinning. “Ah, Spider-Man and Stark’s offspring. A powerful duo!”

“Can you all get out?!” you shouted, grabbing another pillow.

“Not until I get my blackmail photo,” Natasha teased.

Peter tugged you closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “You know, if this keeps up, I might have to climb out the window.”

“Don’t tempt me,” you muttered back, glaring at the group.

Bruce finally showed up, shaking his head with a soft laugh. “Tony, you’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I like to think I’m setting the bar,” Tony said smugly.

Finally, the team filtered out, laughing and bantering as they went. Tony lingered for a moment, fixing Peter with a look. “You’re lucky I like you, Parker. But if I catch you sneaking in again, I’ll make sure you regret it.”

“Yes, sir,” Peter stammered.

As the door shut, the room finally fell silent. You let out a sigh, flopping back onto the bed. Peter lay beside you, covering his face with his hands.

“Well,” you started, “that went about as horribly as it could’ve gone.”

Peter groaned. “They’re never going to let me live this down. Your dad is probably going to build a tracker for me now.”

“Probably,” you teased, rolling onto your side to face him.

He peeked at you through his fingers, his face still flushed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted with a grin.

Peter leaned in closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You know, we could’ve avoided all of this if you hadn’t convinced me to stay the night.”

You raised an eyebrow, smirking. “I convinced you? Last I checked, you were the one who said, ‘But I can’t leave you now, you’re too cute when you’re sleepy.’”

His cheeks turned redder. “Okay, fine. Maybe I did say that.”

You leaned closer, your lips brushing against his. “Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me later.”

Peter’s breath hitched, but before he could respond, you pulled back, smirking. “Now, get up, Spider-Boy. We’ve got breakfast to deal with—and probably a million jokes from the team.”

“Great,” he muttered, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “But next time, we’re sneaking into my room. May wouldn’t call the Avengers on us.”

“Deal,” you replied, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the door.

[psychoticallykind]

Jegumas Day Twenty - Baking

563 words

@noblehouseofgay

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

He’d added too many chocolate chips.

Too many chocolate chips, and now everything was off, and he’d messed up the measurements again -

“Breathe,” Regulus reminded him. “James. It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“But I -”

“Did nothing wrong,” Regulus finished for him. He pulled him away from the counter, gently pushing him into one of the kitchen chairs. Then he stood in front of him, between his knees, and put his hands on James’s shoulders. “You’re stressing this way too much. It’s just cookies.”

“It’s not just the cookies,” James denied. “It’s everything. I’m messing up everything - I made the wrong cake and had to start over, I got the wrong kind of milk and we had to go back to the store, and now there are too many chocolate chips and the cookies are going to be ruined.”

Regulus rubbed at his shoulders. “Jamie. You aren’t ruining anything. I promise.” He tipped James’s chin up, carefully wiping away tears that James hadn’t realized were falling. “You made an extra cake and it looks amazing. The milk wasn’t a big deal, and it wasn’t all your fault. We went shopping together, remember? And we can make as many cookies as we need to. These can be extra-chocolate, Remus will be thrilled. And then we can make a normal batch. Everything is okay. Nothing’s ruined.”

James nodded, trying to believe it. “Right.”

“Baking is not supposed to be stressful,” Regulus told him. “It’s supposed to be fun. Right? That’s what you told me.”

“Yeah,” he agreed. “It is. I’m having fun.”

“You’re in tears, actually.”

“Well, those are - they don’t matter,” James protested. “I’m having fun.”

Regulus gave him a look. “Are you?”

James made a face, crinkling up his nose. “They could be happy tears.”

“They could be,” Regulus said agreeably. “Or they could be ‘I’ve convinced myself that I have to give everyone the perfect Christmas and now I’m extraordinarily stressed out’ tears.”

James laughed. “Or that.”

“Or that,” Regulus agreed. He met James’s eyes, light blue against hazel. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.” He leaned forward, voice lower like he was telling a secret. “You don’t have to be perfect. Remember?”

James closed his eyes, leaning forward to rest his head on Regulus’s chest. “Ugh.”

“Yeah, I know.” Regulus massaged gently at his scalp. “Do you want to take a break? We can watch a movie.”

James shook his head, still hidden from sight. “I have to finish the cookies.”

“I’ll put them on the pan, you set the timer and pick a movie. No more baking tonight.”

He sort of wanted to argue. He’d be off schedule if he didn’t finish the baking tonight.

But he also still felt like crying over chocolate chips, so maybe this was a good call. “Okay.”

Regulus pulled him back, searching his expression. “Okay?”

James nodded, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of Regulus’s wrist. “Thank you.”

“Always.” Regulus leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his nose, and his forehead, and then - briefly - his lips.

James was smiling by the time he set the timer. And then - after Regulus ushered him out of the kitchen - he went to pick a movie.

It was okay. Nothing had to be perfect.

He could forget about baking for a little while.

[donnerpartyofone]

What was the process like for writing the novelization for Splice? Would you consider writing a novelization of an existing work again?

Eek I'm being interviewed! I'M SO FAMOUS. There are a lot of parts to this answer. The shortest answer is that I really just watched SPLICE in tiny sections every single day for a very, very long time. I had a certain version of the script to work from, but it wouldn't contain the exact things that were said and done in front of the camera (no script would), so I just studied the movie. I scanned the sets for objects I could not identify, of which there are a LOT -- things I've never seen before, and things I've seen but couldn't name -- and searched online until I learned to describe things like hay trolleys and circulating baths. To me, the point of a novelization is that it produces an interior and sensorial experience not offered by a screen, so I tried very hard to expand on the material qualities suggested by the movie.

It never once occurred to me to change anything. Apparently this is an expectation of novelizations. I had a writeup in Fangoria that was very kind about my ability to make psychological sense out of the things people do in SPLICE, but that expressed disappointment that I hadn't added scenes or anything. I'm such an inveterate, pathetic sort of rule-follower, I didn't even ask myself about this. I did change one exact thing, regarding the kind of candy that Elsa eats, because it was meaningful and amusing to me to do so, but I don't think anybody will ever get it. I also included just a little bit of material from the script that didn't make it into the movie, because it was completely in line with my psychological interpretation, which was what I was most concerned with.

I never thought of SPLICE as a perfect film, but I had a lot of thoughts about it, and I think my main contribution was to explain what these characters are thinking and feeling as they wade into this life-changing and profoundly icky experience together. That became very personal very quickly and I was a little bit afraid that maybe this would be how everyone would find out how totally insane I actually am, but I'm told that that part worked out pretty good -- by Vincenzo Natali, among other people, who is SO NICE AND SMART AND SUPPORTIVE. Best guy! When I turned in my draft to the publisher I thought there might be a little back and forth, I did not expect them to send the raw document directly to Vincenzo and I was very alarmed when I heard from him before anybody else, but I really had nothing to fear. He's one of my favorite people now.

I would definitely do another novelization. Actually I think I'm uniquely suited to this because I have a good dose of aphantasia. I didn't even know until recently that it's statistically weird to think mostly or exclusively in words and to have a very hard time visualizing, like, almost anything. When I started telling people this about myself I was asked, among other things, "How do you do anything if you can't picture what you're going to do?" And I was like, uh...I don't know. Maybe this is connected to my extreme executive problems and my problems with goal formation and followthrough. I mean I think this is true, now. And I developed this sort of half-joking self-mythology that I have to be watching movies every second of the day because I suffer from an image deficit and I need external infusions. Like even when I used to draw (trauma took that away, long story, but I drew all the time for like half my life), almost everything I ever made was swipes -- and I think they're pretty good, like it's worthy as art. But I guess for me, art has to be made out of something external that I manipulate. All the art I've ever made without a reference point has been maybe technically OK but really lifeless, you can tell something is missing. So I think the novelization process was a lot like how I used to draw, where I had a completely concrete external referent and I would just sort of tour it very extensively until I had created a twin of it out of my interpretations. And the twin is like, the same but different, it's a clone made out of feelings and reactions. I think that's a worthy sort of art object to make.

There's a thing I'm working on now that I'm sure I won't be able to talk about for a long while, but it involves writing things from preexisting sketches and prompts, and that's a little bit the same. I don't have as much to go on, but I can tell what the shape of it could be, I just turn it over like, what if it's like this, what if it's like this, what if it's like this. And I know that what I'm turning out is really made out of tropes and archetypes, it's kind of a collage, but if the collaging is really earnest and you're feeling your way along with reasonable naturalness, it can turn into something. It's not that different from describing experiences you've had, if you really think about it. The following comment is NOT MEANT TO COMPARE MYSELF TO A GENIUS but I had this nice moment of synergy recently when I rewatched Kiyoshi Kurosawa's CURE, which to me seems so forcefully unique, but in interviews he says things like, "Well I just really wanted to make an American horror movie," and talks about how his starting point was not personal at all, he just wanted to play with the established tools and ingredients people use to build a certain kind of product. And I thought, I guess that's what I do -- not as intelligently or deliberately, but I get how you can work in a way that sounds so formal and empty, and have it produce something distinctly personal.

Thanks for your fun question!

*Virginia Madsen voice* Oh yes. I forgot to tell you. BUY MY BOOK!

EDIT: Oh I kind of lied, I changed *just some of* the music that Clive listens to, to something that would be easier to communicate to a reader. Like I wouldn't use the exact band on the soundtrack because it was too obscure and specific, but I would talk instead about his genre choices because they went with what I was trying to say about him as a person. I think all of it was still pretty in line with the sounds, and the Clive, that appear in the film.

[kaiyunsim]

wishful winter —

pairing : childhood bestfriend!woonhak x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

summary : woonhak has always had a crush on you. he wants to confess to you with an upcoming christmas party coming up but is too scared that it’ll ruin your relationship you guys have now.

warnings : fluff, pining woonhak (who is also kinda dumb), jaehyun as a friend,

a/n : what happens when you have a crush on your ult bias… make a fic !! (ily woonhak) also stream wishful winter for christmas !

queueing… wishful winter - nct wish, santa baby - laufey, say it back - peach luffe

— not proof read — wc : 1.9k —

woonhak is always a very loud and talkative person. after all, being the youngest in his friend group always has its perks, and it makes woonhak known as the loud, cute one in all of school.

you’re in the same group as him, harboring the same group of friends, but you and woonhak are practically inseparable as you two grew up with eachother since you could remember. the group often associates you both as twins, like siblings from another mother. and of course, woonhak had a big, fat crush on you.

your families have their annual christmas party coming up and it’s the most exciting time of the year for the both of you. in the past years, you guys have exchanged gifts, planned events, and even planned games. one year, woonhak lost and got flour all over his face which is now a memory you always bring up every year.

while at school on the day of the planned party, you walk over to the table where everyone usually meets and immediately gets greeted with the same, adorable smirk woonhak gives.

“y/n!” he yells, not doing so on purpose but forgets they are actually in school.

you playfully push his aside, sitting next to him. “move aside, woonagi” you tease him, it’s the name the other friends gave him but you thought it was such a cute name especially since woonhak was the baby of the group.

woonhak just responds with a sarcastic eye roll before going back to eating his food. jaehyun, one of your friends, looks at both of you with his mouth wide open, “you’re actually joking,” he says, the surprised expression not leaving his face, “woonhak, why do you get mad at us when we call you woonagi, but when y/n does it you literally don’t care” jaehyun exclaims bitterly. it was mostly a joke but jaehyun did want to know why woonhak didn’t react much to you.

you look at jaehyun with his jealous gaze, “woonagi just loves me more than you” you say playfully, sticking your tounge out at jaehyun. another one of your friends, leehan, laughs at jaehyuns defeat. woonhak is left quiet and a light blush now apparent on his cheeks.

you notice the slight redness on woonhak’s face and combine it with the sudden quiet attidude fron the usually-loud woonhak you know to come to the conclusion to one thing. he’s sick.

it’s not weird to be sick at this time, especially since it’s the winter time but either way, you place a hand on his forehead to check his temperature. it’s slightly hotter than normal seeing more red appear on his face.

in woonhak’s mind he’s trying to battle breaking all together. his heart racing and mind going everywhere and nowhere at the same time from you taking care of him.

you sweep some stray hairs out of his bangs, “take care of yourself, you look like you just woke up” you laugh before finishing up your food.

as if woonhak could blush more, he looked very red. it was a good thing you were focused on your food and not on him or else the embarassment would be too much to handle. eventually, he’s able to calm down and lunchtime came to an end everyone starts parting ways to their final classes.

before either of you leave, you nudge woonhak once again. “i’ll see you later?” you ask. he looks confused. the dots aren’t connecting in his mind while looking at you. you laugh at his forgetful state right now, “the christmas party?” you remind him. “oh yeah” he remembers, he scratches the back of his head from ebarassment. “jeez woonagi, you’re so clueless sometimes, good thing you have me” you giggle as you walk off to your class.

woonhak stands there a moment, heart racing once again. in fact, literally anything you would do would make it race, and he didn’t know what to do or how to react. of course he wants to tell you but isn’t sure if you would like him back and is scared to ruin the close bond you guys have already.

after school ends, woonhak heads home, hoping to sort out his feelings before meeting up with you again before the party. he goes to the one person he knows, or thinks that he knows, some good dating advice. his hyung, myung jaehyun.

—

now woonhak is standing in front of jaehyun’s home as the night shrouded him in darkness. he was suited in the cute black bubble jacket you got him last christmas which is also matching with yours. woonhak knocks on the door of jaehyun, desperate for any advice his hyung can provide.

jaehyun answers the door. he’s wearing some cute christmas pyjamas. he’s wiping his eye, looking like he just woke up from a nap. “ever heard of texting, woonhak?” he asks, somewhat annoyed that he was disturbed from his nap but shortly realizes that it’s the youngest so he lets it pass.

“i called you so many times, hyung” he says. woonhak lets himself in, going past the sleepy jaehyun who is checking his call receipts to see that woonhak did, indeed, call him exactly 7 times. “jesus i guess i’m a deep sleeper” jaehyun comments quietly to himself.

“why are you here, woonagi?” jaehyun asks while trying to tease the young boy, “you’re going to be late for your christmas party with y/n” he continues. he boils some hot water for hot chocolate for woonhak.

“quit it with the name, hyung” woonhak scoffs, clearly annoyed. “i’m here to ask you about something”

jaehyun looks slightly worried, “you never come to me for anything, i’m kinda scared.” he pours out the hot chocolate and gives it to the young boy. “you’re not dying. are you?” he jokes lightly.

woonhak accepts the hot cup, using it to warm his hands, “no, idiot. it’s about y/n” woonhak confesses.

jaehyun’s serious expression immediately falters and gets replaced with one of teasing. “ohh, i knew it! what did they do this time? smile at you? breathe in your direction?” jaehyun says, smile getting wider and voice getting more teasing every question.

“can you be seious for once?” woonhak sighs, tired of all the teasing he’s being bombarded with. he sounds more serious, “listen, i don’t know if they like me or are just being friendly…” woonhak says, just speaking his mind out, sipping the hot chocolate.

the hyung rolls his eyes, looking done with the younger’s lovesick problems. “okay but why does it matter? just keep the attention dude, you’re lucky someone keeps clinging onto you.” jaehyun replies unseriously, that playful smirk making its way back to his face.

“that’s not helpful!” woonhak exclaims, playing a mini tantrum. “ugh, i knew i should’ve gome to riwoo hyung” he whispers to himself but jaehyun overhears.

“okay okay fine, keep going. what things do they do?” jaehyun asks, finally takes it semi-seriously and get information from woonhak.

and now woonhak has a mini clump in his throat as even just thinking about you makes him jumble his words, “well they’ll lean on me, have lingering touches, and like gets close when we talk. but when i ask they’re like ‘im just like this with everyone’” woonhak admits, shoulders giving out as he slouches slightly into the chair.

“well maybe they are like that with everyone” jaehyun says, adding some emphasis on ‘are’, wanting to help woonhak see everything clearly, but not giving the boy the answer right away.

“that’s exactly what im afraid of!” woonhak exclaims, “but what if they aren’t… what if im mising my chance?” woonhak asks his hyung, desperate for an answer.

“then don’t miss it” jaehyun answers.

woonhak looks at his hyung, confused, “what does that even mean?”

jaehyung places his palm onto his face, dissappointed at how dumb woonhak is, “i mean, just go for it. or dont. either way, you’ll figure it out”

woonhak checks the time and sees that he has to leave to go to the party. he gets up from his chair, still confused, “what do i even bother asking you?”

“my question exactly. well let me know if they reject you so. i can roast you for it, woonagi” jaehyun giggles as he enjoys teasing the youngest.

woonhak walks out of the door after returning the hot chocolate, “i hate you, hyung” woonhak pouts with an angry face as he walks off.

“no you don’t! good luck loverboy!” jaehyun yells into the empty neighborhood before closing the door.

—

woonhak walks into the house which is decorated in twinkling lights. sounds of a cackling fireplace echo into his ears and the smell of freshly baked cookies goes around the room. families gather, chatting now also stacks with the sounds.

he goes over to the more quiet corner of the party, away from the adults to avoid any awkward conversations. you’re also there, sitting by the christmas tree and he decides to sit next to you.

“it’s so pretty this year. the lights, the tree… everything feels extra magical, doesn’t it?” you comment, gazing at the tree, beautifully decorated with many different kinds of ornaments from each family that got together.

woonhak leans back to try and make it look like he was playing it cool. “yeah, i guess. or maybe it's just because you're here" he says lightly, also focused on the tree that is in front of the both of you.

you blink, registering the words woonhak said. your eyes widen slightly as your gaze moves over to the boy. "what was that?"

he realizes what he says and his eyes widen as well. "uh. i mean, everone's here! like, the whole family and stuff. that's what it makes it magical," woonhak tries to play it off.

you tilt your head, suspicious but amused at woonhak's attempt at recovery. "mhm. sure, woonhak."

you both fall into a comfortable silence, watching the lights twinkle together on the tree, admiring the time you guys have together. woonhak's heart starts to race as he steals a glance at you, who is just quietly smiling at the tree.

"you've been acting weird lately. is something on your mind?" you ask, noticing a difference in woonhak's behavior recently.

woonhak starts choking on his own saliva, "what? no! weird? me? i'm always like this."

you laugh softly at his clumsiness, "okay, if you say so. woonagi" you tease the boy. your laughter fades as you suddenly lean in a little closer. "but, seriously. you know you can tell me anything, right? we've known each other since forever ago." you remind him, trying to comfort him through his personal problem.

woonhak's concentration slips, especially with you moving closer to him, "i like you."

a heavy silence falls between you both, woonhak freezing and woonhak turning a familiar tone of red.

you simply blink in surprise, still registering the situation. "wait what?"

woonhak starts to stammer his words, trying to quickly formulate sentences through the embarrassment he's feeling, "i-i didn't mean to say that! i mean, i did, but not like this!" he covers his face with his hands. "forget i even said anything." he says as he gets up.

you grab onto his arm, smiling softly. "woonhak, i think you're so cute when you're flustered. and, for the record, i like you too.

"wait really?" he makes sure, wanting to make sure he's not hearing anything wrong.

you simply nod, teasingly, of course. "yeah. but you're going to have to make it up to me for confessing to me like that. where's the grand romantic gesture?" you nudge him gently.

woonhak laughs nervously but is finally relaxing, "give me a break. i'm not exactly smooth under pressure."

[xxsycamore]

╰┈➤ It’s Halloween night at the Crown caste, and you’re looking for some fun.

- William, Harrison, Liam, Elbert, Alfons, Jude, Ellis, Roger, Victor, Ring, Nica, Darius x f!reader

[ ◄ PART 1 ] - ◉ PART 2 - [ PART 3 ►]

• rating: 🔞 E (MDNI) • tags: Monsterfucking; Human/Monster; Mythical Beings & Creatures; Manipulation; Mildly Dubious Consent; Curse play; Non-Human Genitalia; Anonymous Sex; Masquerades; Creampie; Vaginal Sex; Size Difference; Size Kink; Power Dynamics; Power Imbalance; Power Play; Corruption; Multiple Orgasms; Dom/sub; Fondling; Manhandling; Near Death Experiences; Adrenaline; Flying Sex; Predator/Prey; Tail Sex; Tail Play; Possessive Behavior; Cervix Penetration; Oviposition; Eggpreg; Breeding; Unplanned Pregnancy • wordcount:  3,264 • masterlist

a/n: I got this idea for a story that is similar to Nine Nights, but without any plot or continuity between the different parts whatsoever. Unless, of course, you want to imagine that all of these take place one after another (poor Reader)... Monsterfucking is a new territory for me, so please bear with me. Once again, I tried leaving you with enough hints about who is who and I hope you can have fun guessing them lol

Dubcon warning: The reader seeks out physical intimacy on her own from the very beginning, however, some suitors use their curses' abilities on her without her being aware of it.

NEW: I made a playlist for this fic! It consists of 12 songs, one for each scenario. Enjoy <3

VISIONS OF TEMPTATION 2024/ KINKTOBER DAY 31: Non-human characters/traits

❝ MONSTER VILLAINS' NIGHT. ❞ (PART 2)

V. A fearful Demon King

"You're doing such a good job, little one. Keep rising and falling on me."

Dark shadows enfold the throne upon which the Demon King sits, with you seated on his large cock, steadily fucking yourself on it. His power is great and fearsome, making you dizzy when you try to look into the blurry memory of where you were just a handful of minutes ago or how it all led to this. You just know that if you were given the chance to go back, you'd still choose the same fate.

"Haaah… It's so big! I can't go any faster, my Lord… nghhh…."

From the moment you came to understand that the powerful being has chosen you to service him, you felt far more honored than scared. It all changed when he revealed his monstrous cock to you. With its shiny onyx-colored base and angry red head, mirroring the coloration of the twin horns on top of the Demon King's head, what intimidated you most was the girth of it. You were sure you wouldn't be able to fit something the width of your fist inside you, and you expressed those concerns to your Lord through a series of pathetic sobs, not failing to show him how much you wish you could, of course.

Then he did something unexplainable yet very simple at the same time. He used his clawed hand - the limb elegant despite its inhumanly size and black color - the pointy tip of his blood-red claw tipped your chin upwards so you could meet his demonic gaze. Looking into his crimson irises made all your hesitation go away in a flash, and suddenly you knew it was going to be alright.

Next thing you knew, you were piercing yourself on his length, letting it stretch you open and ruin you for everyone else. Not that it matters, you belong to your Lord now - the way he caves a room for himself inside you, you can only feel that he owns you now, body and mind.

The fluids seeping from his bulbous head acted like a lubricant that made your tight hole accommodate him bit by bit until he was all the way in, and you could only writhe in pleasure and haphazardly stroke your clit as the orgasms overcame you one after the other. The fear of doing something so indecent and selfish without his permission made you snap out of it, but your lord only kept the smirk on his face, encouraging you to keep going.

Even now that you've just let him know that the big intrusion inside you is preventing you from speeding up, he seems to be relaxing back in his throne, contently watching you struggle on your own. Your boldness grows with the need to push yourself over the edge in yet another orgasm, and while doing so, you reach for the black, curved horns on top of his head. You're clearly out of your mind to be doing that, so you search for his gaze that will decide your fate for you.

"I allow it."

A moan rips out of your throat, followed by a dozen blabby and brainless thank-you's. The new leverage works in your favor as you spasm and gush around the red-black appendage inside you, feeling it further stretching your walls on every rise and fall of your hips.

Without any awareness of the passage of time, it seems like you've been lost in this euphoric trance for an eternity before he finally grows bored of your pace. The demonic hand that he previously propped up his chin with is now snaking its way down your little human body, having a delectable taste of your soft parts with a squeeze there and there, before finally settling on your waist. His other hand joins too, and suddenly you have no power over your own movements - he grounds you to his lap easily, making you take his cock all the way in, before starting to move you up and down on his own will.

You feel light in his hold, your brain clearing out of any remaining thoughts that you previously had to keep into, when something still depended on you. The new wave of pleasure you're granted is stronger than anything you've felt, and you can only hear the obscene sounds of sticky fluids leaking from the place you're connected, your body locked in an eternal state of climax.

The last thing you feel is an overwhelming fullness deep in your womb that seems to go on forever, before you're finally settled down on the powerful being's torso, a clawed hand stroking the underside of your chin as your consciousness slips away.

VI. A deceitful Angel

The man dressed all in white has been standing out from the crowd all throughout the night, but he's even more remarkable now up close, you must admit. While he talks to you with his harmonically sweet voice, all you can focus on is the way his skin seems to glow under the scarce light of the eerily decorated hall. He's quite friendly, his golden eyes warm and inviting, as he suggests exploring the stairs to the roof of the castle.

You think nothing of it, sneaking off with him like a pair of juveniles as his laughter rings through the narrow spiral staircase. The night sky becomes a beautiful backdrop to his figure, and soon you're enamored enough of him to confess with a little chuckle that he looks like an angel. He gives you a mysterious smile, putting a slender finger in front of his lips, and in the next second a beautiful pair of wings spread wide on his back.

You're mesmerized by the sight, not believing your eyes - the angel-like stranger seems to be reading your mind at that moment because he evidently wants to show you just how real they are.

Namely, by pulling you by the hand where he stands at the edge of the rooftop, making you fall forward ontop of him, and right off the edge.

Your scream is sincere as you rapidly approach the ground, eyes squeezing shut as you say goodbye to your life, but the inevitable impact never comes. Instead, you're airborne, carried on the wings of the now laughing stranger who gave you the scare of your life. He never struck you as someone so cruel, but just as you're about to conclude he's no angel, you're given an even bigger reason to think that way. His wings suddenly strip their white color, feathers darkening as if covered by tar, until they become completely black.

"Are you enjoying the flight? I'd say the world looks far better from above. But we can make the sight even more enjoyable."

The sweet voice whispers those words close enough to your ear to send shivers, as you have no choice but to cling to him for dear life. His hands are free while yours are locked tightly around his neck, and he puts them to good use, moving them down your body and under the layers of fabric, baring you little by little.

"Ahh-Why-"

"Why not? You said that I'm an angel, didn't you? Maybe I just want to show you what heaven feels like, little bird."

If he's an angel, he's for sure a fallen one; someone like him has surely been punished for committing a despicable sin. Yet you can't help but moan at the way you're manhandled in the air, placed over his hot length, as it penetrates you in one long, slow thrust.

"Ahhhh! Nghh!"

You've never been in such a position, feeling so powerless but also feeling so good, your weight naturally falling on his cock with every flap of his wings. The celestial being cradles you close, giving you yet another illusion that he's being generous while in truth just using you for his own pleasure, a warm and tight sleeve to manipulate up and down in the air as he sees fit. Looking down makes you dizzy, as he practically holds your life in his hands, and you will yourself to concentrate on the growing pleasure that inevitably comes with the ordeal he puts you through, one that is greater than anything you've felt before. If you make it out alive, you'll remember it for the rest of your life.

"Aren't you enjoying this a lot, hmm? Don't you want to soar in the skies with me forever? How delightful will it be if you grew a pair of wings of your own, right here?"

He trails a deft finger across your back, dragging it upwards, right between your shoulder blades. It coincides with the fire inside you engulfing you to the point of no return, and you come undone on his cock, clinging to the body keeping you safe.

"It will hurt a little, but it will be all worth it. Don’t you want it? To help create a beautiful world by my side?"

As the angelic laughter rings in your ears, you feel a gush of liquid shoot inside you, and you begin to wonder why his offer seems so tempting at this very moment.

VII. A ferocious Minotaur

Going out in the garden for some fresh air shouldn't necessarily entail getting lost in the hedge maze, yet here you are.

As you turn yet another corner, fighting off the surprise of discovering a new dead end, you tell yourself that getting out of here can’t be that hard. Luckily the party is not ending any time soon, so maybe no one will notice your absence while you're on your own impromptu adventure. You won't speak of it afterward, that's for sure.

However, there's something entirely different that's been bothering you as you walk through the labyrinth-like walls of greenery, and that's the strong sense of being followed that you've been feeling for some time now. Not like eyes on your back, but rather, like a lingering sense of danger that you're about to run into any second now. You approach the next corner with caution, look behind, and relax enough to make fun of yourself in your head. But that only lowers your guard enough to make you scream with surprise when out of nowhere, a hand reaches for your shoulder.

"Hey, calm down. Are you alright? I've been trying to catch up with you for some time now. You appear to be running in circles. Are you lost?"

The man behind you is of large build, the pair of horns protruding from his brown hair only adding to his already admirable height, even if they're more sprawling at the sides of his head rather than from above - not unlike those of a ram. It's strange; for a moment there you had the feeling he'd been hunting you down towards this place in the center of the maze, but he doesn't seem to be ill-intended.

"W-Well- Not really, I just went out to get some fresh air, and-"

It must be pride that prevents you from accepting his help, or the fact that reaching the spacious center of the maze gives you the illusion of having made it halfway out of it without any help. Either way, the man lets out a short, wry laugh, almost mockingly so.

"I see. You are one of those who linger alone in here, looking for fun."

"T-That's not it! I honestly just meant to-"

The man steps in closer to you, his heavy boots coming to almost touch the tip of your own shoes now, and the difference in your builds is intimidatingly evident at that moment.

"How about this. You will try and make it out of here on your own. But if you fail, if I catch you - I will have my fun with you, there on the spot."

You can't believe yourself when the cold sweat beading at the base of your nape is not enough to stop you from giving it a thought. Maybe you were looking for some fun, maybe it was your frustration with failing to find fun that led you out of the hall to "take a breather" and get rid of the irritating arouse you've been feeling for some time - why hesitate just because you didn't expect to find your ticket to the entertainment here, in the garden?

The animalistic aura of the man and his respectable size gives you just enough push to make this fair, to actually give it your all before you fall into his hands. 

***

Well, you can't say that you didn't put up a fight.

The brown-haired man seems to enjoy pinning you down and restricting you just as much as you enjoy protesting in his strong hold, testing the strength of his toned arms. It's humiliating, feeling the cold cobblestone ground under your hands and knees, but you don't want anything to break the immersion of being his prey.

Though, he gives you enough to feed the fantasy as it is. Until you doubt it's a fantasy anymore. Not when something large and tapered and inhuman prods at your hole.

"W-What-"

"You stay quiet and take it, 'lil lady. That's your punishment for getting caught."

You feel your brain beginning to melt with the intrusion of the tapered head of his girthy cock, and you brace yourself for being this monster's plaything, hearing him groan above you as he bottoms out.

You need to think about making it out of the maze at some point too, but right now you're not very capable of that.

VIII. A possessive Dragonkin

(CW: oviposition, breeding, unplanned pregnancy)

You noticed something being amiss the very second you entered the room. This is his territory, that much is certain - and you let him walk you in here willingly. As his grip around your waist tightens, tongue long since down your throat in a breath-stopping kiss, your half-lidded eyes catch hazy glimpses of the space. The moonlight seeping from the windows helps you make up the contours of piles upon piles of objects of various shapes and colors covering every surface. Most of them shiny, intricate, antique, scattered around without order yet clearly kept with purpose.

At the very center of it all, you're being undressed by restless hands that seemingly want to reveal way more of your skin than is necessary for a simple, short-lived tryst between strangers. You expect his touch to be cold, but every part of you becomes scorching hot under his fingertips. His skin is smooth as it glides against yours, the moon making it glow almost, as he aims to maximize the contact between your bodies.

You want to touch him back, but something long, strong and scaly wraps around your middle, lifting you up with ease and suspending you in the air. Is that his... tail? You kick your feet at the loss of gravity, afraid that he will drop you, but he simply watches you squirm and struggle with his slitted icy-blue eyes.

"Mine."

The sudden pressing of his cock against your drenched entrance distracts you from this strange surge of possessiveness. Your limbs tremble as he bottoms out, the blunt tip of his appendage brushing against your cervix and sending electricity through your writhing form, a mixture of pain and pleasure overwhelms your senses.

With every thrust, it becomes easier, as your body not only becomes more pliable towards his size, but it also begins to crave more. It's like the precome smeared on his tip numbed your cervix, because you suddenly don't mind the feeling of him knocking on it on every thrust.

"Mine."

The whisper is followed by a grunt, and it makes you look at the stranger's face again. He's looking at you, yet it's like he's not seeing you; fixated on something underneath the surface, even his mantra of possessiveness is voiced out solely out of his own necessity to say it and not directed towards you. You reach out a hand and brush it against his pale, smooth cheek. Your fingertips graze blond hair locks and aim higher up, where a pair of pointy horns stand tall on the top of his head. They're translucent and blue in color, as if cut out from pure sapphire, and you're mesmerized by the sight, by all of him. Even if his tail wraps snuggly around you to keep you in place, his pace is rather rough, and one particularly sharp thrust has you grasping at those beautiful horns for support.

You're rewarded with a growl, and the sound of it makes your insides squeeze around the thick cock that continues to mercilessly pound your cunt. In a haze, you barely notice how the very tip of his tail snakes its way towards your clit and begins to stroke it.

"Ahhh!" You throw your head back as pleasure rocks your body, a powerful climax ripping through you. As your mind blanks out, you register your need growing tenfold despite having just orgasmed. In answer, he doesn't as much as slow down his thrusts, giving you exactly what you want.

Suddenly, you begin to feel a strange bulb at the base of his cock that presses more and more into your entrance, as if moving higher. The rational part of your brain, barely functioning, sends worrisome signals, but the part that wants this easily overpowers it. You don't need to understand it. You only need to think of the undiscovered pleasure that awaits you with that delicious stretch. Your walls pulsate helplessly around it, an itch that nothing else would be able to scratch, you're ruined for everything else at that very moment. The bulb slowly moves higher, making its way to your bruised cervix, until it finally presses against it, firmly.

There is a sense of resistance for a second, until finally, something pops inside. Tears of overstimulation gather in the corners of your eyes, and you feel something small and rounded nestling deep inside, in your uterus. It makes you orgasm on the spot, body thrashing around in the strong hold you're being kept in, as your vision turns to white for a mere second.

A gush of liquid follows, and you open your eyes to see the one doing this to you breathing rapidly as he too reaches his orgasm. His seed floods you, seeping into your dilated cervix without anything to hold it back, and drenches the egg resting in your womb. A rush of realization goes to your fucked-out mind and you just know, with every cell on your body, and by some ancient design, that whatever he put inside you has been fertilized successfully in that very moment.

"Mine."

You hear the wicked mantra leave his lips one last time before you pass out, and you briefly have the opportunity to worry about your future. Is he going to keep you here forever? Or maybe your purpose will end with expelling the egg once it finishes its growth, to add another treasure to his collection. You can't help but wonder, when he says "mine", why is it that you don't mind whether he's referring to you or the good incubator that your womb makes?

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison  @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou  @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @raeraeks @ethereal-blossom @valkyyriia @candied-boys @ludivineikewolf Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[jigamaree-writes]

mouthwashing characters dating headcanons!!

warnings: mentions of alcohol, multiple referenced characters deaths (including suicide)

tags: fluff and angst, confessions, romance, friends to lovers, strangers to lovers, mutual pining, canon divergence, long distance relationship, major character death

includes: Daisuke, Anya, Curly

author's note: this is my first time officially writing on tumblr so apologies for any mistakes, can be read as "x reader", accidentally posted this as a wip and it had one like already so sorry to that user i took it down for some time

Daisuke

i believe he would first meet his yet to be partner either at a party on in an arcade

either way he would be absolutely smitten by their looks alone and would start chatting with them and successfully get their number

he started seeing them more, usually going shopping together, playing games, or just hanging out

as time went on he realized that the feeling in his stomach the very first day he saw them wasn't the alcohol from the party nor the nerves from seeing someone so cool – it was much more than that

he had no idea how to approach his little crush with the intention of telling them his feelings since he was already a pretty good friend of theirs and didn't want to loose that friendship or make it awkward if they weren't interested in him

but somehow during one of the hangouts his tongue slipped and he accidentally outed his feelings towards them!

all his worries washed away when they reassured him that they've been feeling the same way since they started spending more time together

he immediately perked up at that and kissed them on the cheek

when he officially gets in a relationship with them he's over the moon and he acts even more positive than usual

Daisuke's love language would be quality time mixed with physical touch

he just loves hugging, kissing or cuddling with his partner, even handholding brings him immerse joy

he's very fond of using pet names for his partner and overuses them a lot

his favourites include: "sweetie", "baby", "beautiful/handsome" or "my everything" as well as some more snarky and playful ones, often based on his partner's appearance or hobbies

god forbid someone asks him about his significant other because he will rant about all the little things he loves about them in perfect detail

he couldn't stop showing off his partner to everyone he knew, he's just so glad to have someone by his side

speaking of – he's extremely clingy, even if his partner hadn't talked to him for two hours, he already misses them

so when his parents basically force him to leave and work for Pony Express you can imagine this poor boy's heartbreak

not being able to see his one and only for such an extended period of time is like a death sentence to him

he offers that his love goes with him, but due to the fact that working on the Tulpar is not a very satisfying and fulfilling job plus the constant harsh environment (not even mentioning the pay) it's understandable they don't want to be stuck in the ocean of emptiness

and even if they did want to go with him, after giving it more thought Daisuke realized that he wound never want to put the most important person in his life at any danger that might be involved in the outer space

while he is extremely down about leaving his other half back at home, he stays hopeful the whole time, keeping a picture of his beloved in his pocket or on the side table next to his bed in the sleeping quarters

his partner (along with the desire to make his parents proud) becomes a sense of motivation for him

even in his last moments, after being injured from crawling though the air vent, all he can think about is how he was never going to make it back and see his love one final time

Anya

when it comes to first meetings i think Anya would either see her future partner one of the times she tried to apply for her medical school or while she was running to clear her mind two blocks away from her own apartment and bumped into them at a corner

if we're going with the second scenario she would apologize tremendously for her carelessness and to her surprise was met with a very positive answer and an invitation to a dinner the next day

few more dates later and she starts developing some serious feelings for the other person and that eventually leads to them becoming a couple

she used to spend most of her time studying so she might not be very experienced in a relationship and needs to warm up to her new role as a girlfriend but she's the most loving and understanding one ever

for a long time she was seriously struggling with getting into medical school, but her significant other encouraged her to go forward and so she never gave up on her dream

by working three times harder than the last time she was awaiting her medical exams with determination and optimism, but unfortunately she failed the tests to qualify for the school yet again...

she was miserable for some time after that, distancing herself from her partner for a few days

to make up for it she and her partner had a movie night, at first she was very apologetic about her behavior but some reassurance from her partner later and her mind was put at ease

i believe her love language would be words of affirmation although she doesn't mind physical touch

she loves to kiss her partner's forehead while holding their face in her hands for sure

Anya's favorite pet names for her partner would be "my dear" and "sweetheart" along with just their name or a sweet nickname she came up with

however if it's her partner using pet names on her? yeah she's absolutely flustered everytime that happens

her favorite aspects of her partner would be the patience they are willing to give her and the support she so desperately needs

when she decided she needed more money to cover for the exams her partner fully supported her with this decision, which eventually lead to her working for the Pony Express

she keeps little notes her partner gave her before she left on the board in her office

she never really shared with anybody that she had a partner back on earth as well as on the Tulpar unless someone directly asked her, she would describe her partner so tenderly that while the majority would find their relationship to be adorable, some people (Jimmy) would mock her for how much she's devoted to her partner

before her ultimate decision of taking the pills she thought about what could've been if she just stayed home and found a different job

she would have never experienced this horrible fate

she couldn't help but muster a smile thinking about her partner, what a pity they never experienced the joy of seeing her finally making her dreams come true

Curly

if he started his relationship while still on Earth he would definitely miss his partner dearly but couldn't help the growing excitement to see them after coming back home

everytime he saw his other half he was happy like it's the last time he's ever going to see them

if Curly came back in the winter season the two would definitely partake in any snow spots together since we know he's a fan of those

if his partner shared his love for the same activities he would be overjoyed, but if they weren't as much into it that's completely fine – he would try to show them all his favourite pastimes hoping his partner would eventually join him but he would never push them to do it

he would acquaint his partner with his family pretty early on in the relationship but not so early it's awkward, he just wants to show off his partner to the closest people in his life

since it's implied he's been working for the Pony Express for quite some time now, it's possible he met his love during one of the hauls, either as a new crew member or someone from a different team

if they were part of his crew the man's attitude towards his partner would stay the same – sure he might be the capitan and is in a position of power but they're still his beloved

sometimes he takes on work that would be usually assigned to his partner to let a little load off their shoulders but he would keep it a secret from them and the other crew members (although he gets accused of favoritism several times)

while he is extremely busy with all the shenanigans going on during the shipping of whatever is in the cargo hold, he always manages to find time for his partner

his love language is definitely act of service

his partner gives Curly a sense of belonging, and even sometimes when he doubts himself as a capitan he knows his partner is there for him

Curly's room is right next to his partner's in the sleeping quarters, although he wishes they wouldn't have to have separate rooms but for some reason the company doesn't acknowledge their relationship because why would they (he still invites his significant other to his room whether it's to cuddle, talk or just to enjoy each other's presence)

he and his partner are basically inseparable

that doesn't change even after the crash takes place, his partner would visit him every day and stay by his side, often taking Anya's task of feeding him painkillers and while it pains them to see him in such a state they know Curly is the one who's in the most pain at the moment

his partner isn't sure if Curly still recognizes them but he always looks around frantically when anyone from the crew escorts them to the sleeping quarters to try and get some rest

following many sleepless nights and witnessing the death of two of the fellow crew members, Curly's partner decided to ultimately end their life, not being able to witness the love of their life suffer any more

they never got to live the life they imagined together and they couldn't even confirm if Curly would notice their lack of presence after they died, however he acted more distressed and was seemingly shrieking when he eventually stopped seeing them

do not copy or translate my works.

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