#and promptly got super busy

[morganbritton132]

Tommy has three brothers.

You may think that this would have taught him how to share, but it didn’t. It taught him that if he wanted something to grab it quick and hold it tight.

Which is to say that he does not like Carol.

He is not thrilled when Steve asks their teacher if Carol can sit with them during snack time because Steve is his best friend. He found him first and he’s not letting go of him.

Especially not to some dumb girl that plays with dolls.

“Mr. Whiskers isn’t a doll. He’s a cat.”

“Mr. Whiskers is a dumb toy,” Tommy grouses, pulling on Steve’s backpack strap so he follows him. Steve says he likes toys and Tommy concedes because he likes toys too just - “Not dumb toys. I have cool toys. I can show you.”

And Tommy does. He drags Steve onto the bus with him. None of his brothers mention it when Steve gets off at their stop.

In fact, no one mentions it at all. Especially not to their mother so it’s something of a surprise when she turns around to find a boy in her kitchen. Not one of her boys but - “Hello?”

The little boy looks away from the pot boiling on the stove and asks, “How come you don’t have a microwave?”

“Mama says that I can’t use the stove ‘cause I’m not big enough,” He continues while Maria stares dumbfounded at him. “Tommy’s not big either and you don’t got a microwave. Does he just eat cereal?”

The boy blinks at her, “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Steve,” She says slowly, connecting the name to Tommy’s friend from school. “Does anyone know you’re here?”

“I know I’m here.”

“Anyone else?”

“Tommy knows,” He says. “He’s in his room. We’re playing nascar.”

“That sounds fun,” She says, slipping into mom mode. She crouches down so they’re eye-level and smiles, “Why don’t I call your mom and let her know that you’re having fun?”

She can see the clogs turning in his head before Sleve slumps his shoulders. His bottom lip juts out and his eyes get shiny. She’s about to ask him what’s wrong when Tommy slides into the room on his socks and Steve tells him in a sad little voice, “Your mama wants me to go home now.”

Tommy promptly bursts into tears.

He doesn’t want Steve to leave. He’ll miss him and he hasn’t even showed him his GI Joe yet.

It takes a lot of soothing words, many reassurances that she’s not kicking Steve out, and the recruitment of her husband before the situation was calmed down. It’s only then that Steve - dry-eyed now - suggests, “I can call my mama.”

This is what Maria was trying to accomplish in the first place.

She takes Steve into the living room where their landline was. He dials his phone number carefully as her, her husband David, and Tommy watch. He gives her a reassuring smile, holding the phone to his ear.

“Hi, Mama! It’s Steve,” He says into the receiver. “I’m at Tommy’s. He’s my best friend and his mama said I can stay the night. Love you. Bye. Love you.”

He hangs up the phone before Maria could ask for it and informs her, “Mama is a super busy lady. She’s goin’ to the - to the store. She says she loves you.”

The boys run off to continue playing while Maria processes what the hell just happened. She’s still processing when David picks up the phone and presses the same buttons Steve had.

He holds the phone to his ear and gets the answering machine for, “The fucking Harringtons?”

[ovulationation]

Big Girl

Pairing: bfd!Joel x reader

Summary: Joel Miller gets called to pick you and his drunken daughter up from a party. With a week left before you leave for college, Joel doesn’t think you’re ready for it.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p-in-v (wrap it up, folks), daddy kink, praise, kitchen, creampie, best friend’s dad, age gap (reader is 19, Joel is around 40)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Sarah had been inseparable since kindergarten. You did everything together. Every all nighter, every time you needed a new dress for a school dance, every new trend you did together. Sarah’s parents worked a lot so she spent almost all her extra time at your house.

When high school came around things started changing. Sarah’s mom left and her dad threw himself into his work. Sarah started going wild and you went right along with her. You started sneaking out, hooking up with boys, and partying every weekend. You both graduated high school (barely) and somehow made it into the same college. With only a week left until you moved into your dorm. Everyone was throwing the last parties of the summer, eager to get last memories with their high school friends.

That’s how you got where you are now, the loud blaring of the speakers as you danced in the random basement of the night. Sarah was beyond tipsy, dancing on the beer pong table while the guys all ogled her body in her short skirt and tight top. You were, unfortunately, the designated driver of the evening. Leaving you with the slightest buzz that had all but faded away.

You pulled out your phone, cursing when you saw the time.

“We gotta go, babe,” you yelled to Sarah over the thumping bass of the speakers.

Sarah look down at you with a pout as you grabbed her arm and helped her onto the dirt floor. Her white sneakers landed in a puddle of something spilled and you winced.

“Don’t wanna,” she whined, throwing her head back for dramatic effect.

You patted her back as you pushed her through the crowd in front of you.

“I know but your dad is gonna be getting home soon and we gotta get back before he realizes we’re gone.”

Sarah groaned as you push her up the stairs of the basement and into the backyard. You led her to the car as you fished around in your handbag.

“Fuck,” you groan and lean your forehead against the window.

Sarah didn’t hear you, too busy flirting with some grimy Super Senior™ to realize you had somehow lost the keys to her shiny new graduation gift.

You pull her away from the walking STD, and pull her back to the car.

“I lost the keys, I need you to keep your hand right here and Don’t. Move.” You spoke slowly, pushing her hand against the hood of the car. She nodded slowly with drooping eyelids then giggled.

“You look soooo funny when you’re serious.” She laughed and stumbled. You shoot her a half serious glare and head back into the basement to search for the keys.

After fifteen minutes of searching the dirty floor with your phone flashlight and trying to shout at people through the loud music, you come back up victoriously holding the keys in your hand. Your victory doesn’t last long when you see Sarah standing next to the car, and her dad next to her.

“Oh shit,” you groan as you walk up to them.

“Oh shit is right,” Joel glares down at you, Sarah draped against his shoulder.

“I called my dad to help,” Sarah giggled.

“I can explain-“

“In. Now.” Joel growls, pointing to his truck.

You just nod and walk over to the car. Joel drags Sarah into the back seat where she promptly passes out. You jump into the front seat and Joel gets into the driver seat, grumpily buckling up and peeling out of the driveway.

The drive back is tense. Only the sounds of Sarah snoring and the low grumble of the road. Joel occasionally glances at you then back at the road, his grip tightening around the steering wheel. You pull down your tight fitting dress. Maybe he’ll go easier on you if you don’t look like you belong on a street corner.

The car pulls into the driveway and Joel pulls Sarah out. You walk behind him as he carries her into her bedroom. Every glare he throws your way makes you duck your head more.

You can’t remember a time when you saw him this mad, but you were usually sneakier than this. You guys had never gotten caught, you always got home on time and made sure any evidence was gone before a parent could find it. Usually you would be back at your house with your sweet, but unfortunately super gullible parents who didn’t think you and Sarah could ever do anything wrong.

You helped Sarah into some pajamas and hoped to sneak out of the front door. You carefully walked through the living room, trying your hardest not to make any noise. The sound of a cupboard slamming shut behind you has you almost jumping out of your skin. You jump around, looking straight at Joel.

“I’m really sorry, Mr. Miller.” You immediately start.

“Look, I understand. You’re 19, you think it’s cool to go to parties,” Joel starts, his expression hard. He leans back against the counter, gesturing to the stool across from him. You scurry over and sit, pulling the hem of your dress down. “But this shit is dangerous. Y’all getting drunk and being around all those hormonal boys or God forbid getting behind a wheel.”

“I’m not drunk,” You argue, but one look from Joel has you shrinking back in your seat.

“You’re leaving in a week and you have no idea the shit that college boys think,” he crosses his arms across his chest. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up to his elbows showing off his muscular forearms.

“I’m a big girl I can handle it.” You shoot back with a bite.

His eyebrows raise at your tone and he pushes off the counter to stand at his full height. Looking down at your smaller frame on the stool.

You can feel a wave of rebellion coarse through you as you look up at him. Sarah spent most of her time over the years at your house so you never really got to know Joel. You would see him in passing or at big life events for Sarah, but you rarely had to deal with him one on one. The fact that he could just stand there and scold you like a child when he didn’t even know you made anger bubble up inside you.

“You’re a big girl?” He steps closer to you.

You nod, suddenly feeling like prey being hunted

“Y-yes,” you stumble.

“You don’t sound too sure, Darlin,” he smirks down at you.

His eyes travel down, down to the hem of your too-tight dress that had made its way dangerously close to the top of your thighs. You cross your legs and squeeze your thighs together, hoping to shield yourself from his sight and hoping to stop the dull ache that had started to form.

“These aren’t the boys you’re used to dealing with, these are men. Can you handle a man?”

You bite your lip at his words. Maybe you were drunk. There’s no way q your best friend’s dad was standing less than a foot in front of you, undressing you with those brown eyes. There’s no way he was flirting with you after chastising you not even a minute ago. There’s no way you were enjoying it.

You nod up at him. “I can handle a man.”

He grins down at you, “prove it.”

Those two words set something ablaze in you. In a flash you’re snaking your arms around his neck and bringing his mouth to yours greedily. He returns it hungrily, wrapping his arms around your back.

You stumble off the stool and his hands are immediately on your ass. You let out a little yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. You gasp into the kiss, breathing him in as he explores every inch of your tongue.

His hands grip your ass, supporting you as you jump back onto the counter, leaving him stand in in between your spread legs. The hard bulge in the front of his pants rubs again you and he lets out a low groan against your lips.

He detaches his lips from yours, dragging them down your neck. He ruts softly against your clothed core, making you whimper and close your eyes. He growls against your neck, continuing his assault. You reach down to the front of his pants, sloppily undoing his belt.

Your hand slithers into his pants, wrapping around his impressive length. Your thumb grazes over his silky tip and he hisses, pulling back. He grabs your wrist

“Not yet, baby,” he mutters, starting to slowly kiss his way down your neck.

“Need it,” You whine, trying to pull him back to you with your legs.

His hands move to your thighs, pushing them apart to stop them from pulling him in. He pulls back and looks down at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips swollen. He pushes the hem of your dress up to your waist, revealing the black lacy panties that you wore for the party.

He drops to his knees, staring at the little pretty pink bow sitting on the front. His eyes never leave yours as he takes the bow between his teeth, pulling it back and then letting go. Letting it snap back to your skin. You feel yourself clench around nothing beneath the fabric and bite your swollen bottom lip.

“Look at that bow,” he groans, pushing his face forward again. His nose rubs against the bow as he presses a kiss directly to your clothed clit. “You’re like a present, wrapped up for me.”

“Mr. Miler please,” you gasp, not sure how much more you can take.

“Please what, baby,” He presses another kiss to the same spot.

“Please just do something,” Your lips parting in a needy whine. You try to move your hips forward, desperate for more, but his hold on your thighs tightens, stilling your movements. You groan in frustration.

Joel slips his fingers into the side of your panties, stretching them and pulling them aside. He lets out a groan as he sees you finally. Your swollen pink folds slick with your own arousal. He presses another kiss, this time to your bare clit. You gasp and tug in his hair, he lets out a growl.

“You taste so sweet, darlin,”

His tongue darts out to tease around your bundle of nerves, licking circles around it but never hitting it where you want. You pant above him, letting out little whimpers as he teases you.

His hand moves travels from your thigh to your stomach. His fingers splay out against your skin and pushes you back until your back hits the cold granite.

Your fingers tug hard when his lips latch around your clit, suckling against it as his tongue massages the bud.

“Oh fuck,” you moan, bringing a hand up to your mouth to muffle your noises.

His hand that isn’t pinning you down into the countertop makes its way down. You feel a finger prod at your entrance and you gasp.

His finger slips in easily to your soaked hole. You bite down on your hand, trying to keep yourself from being too loud. You lift your head up, looking down at where he’s connected to you and find him looking directly at you. Your walls clench around him at the sight.

He slips another finger in, slowly thrusting them into you. Those brown pupils are blown wide in desire as he watched you whine, trying to grind down on him. He scissors those thick fingers inside of you and you moan, squeezing them.

He groans against your clit, sending vibrations up through your body like the best vibrator money could buy. You feel that ball starting to tighten deep in your abdomen.

“C-close, Joel, so close,” you gasp, groaning when that hand stops you from grinding against his face.

“Gonna cum on my fingers?” He asks, mouth still attached to your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Yes, yes, please,” you moan.

His fingers curl inside you, hitting that sensitive, spongey spot. That quickly sends you over the edge, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his fingers. You bite your hand, a few moans still coming through.

He continues to massage that spot inside you and suck on your sensitive clit, far past the last aftershock of your orgasm. You let out whimpers about him, your hands that were pulling on his scalp now trying to push him away as he licks up the last of your arousal. You pull him up and away from your sensitive core.

He brings the back of his hand up to his mouth, wiping away the slick left behind. His eyes never leave yours for a second.

You sit back up, your hands flying back to the front of his jeans. You push them down, his thick length popping out. You bite your lip at the sight.

“Like what you see?”

You look back up at Joel, a smirk on his face. You didn’t want to play, you just felt hot need pulsing through your veins.

You look directly into his eyes as you wrap your hand around him, pumping slowly. His smirk wavers at your light touch. You sweep your thumb across the tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum.

His breath hitches as he watches you bring your thumb to your mouth, licking the droplet. He groans deep in his throat at the sight. You grin up at him.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he growls, wrapping his hand around the base of his cock and resting it against your puffy folds. The underside of him rubs against your sensitive clit.

“Please fuck me,” you pout up at him. His face goes back to your throat, kissing and suckling the soft flesh.

“You want my cock, baby?” He groans at the base of your throat.

“Yes, please give it to me,” you whine. He slides through your slick folds, lubricating himself with your arousal. His tip hitches against your clit and you moan into his ear, clutching at his shoulders.

“Please, Joel, please,” you beg desperately.

He pulls back and grins at your flushed face, “love hearing you beg for me, sweetheart.”

He hands massage your thighs, pushing them apart. You grab the base of his dick, guiding the fat head towards where you need it most. You’re both panting, watching as he notches himself against your entrance.

He slowly starts to ease himself in, stretching you inch by delicious inch. You can’t remember the last time, if ever, you were stretched like this. He was right, you were dealing with men now. And you loved it.

You bite your lip to stifle your moan as he bottoms out inside you. He stills, panting but never taking his eyes off where you’re connected. His lips swollen in a pant as he throbs inside of you. You place slow kisses along his chest, urging him to move.

He groans as he pulls back, then snaps his hips forward. You whimper at the feeling.

“Taking me like a fucking champ, baby.” He praises and you clench around him, whining pitifully. “Taking it like such a big girl.”

You whine as he uses your earlier words against you. His hand pushes you back onto the countertop as he lazily thrusts into you. His hand wrapping around your dress bunched up at your waist. His other hand wraps around your ankle, bringing it up and over his shoulder, then the other one.

The new angle causes him to push his tip into that sensitive spot inside you. You let out a louder moan at the feeling.

“F-fuck,” you gasp, clenching around him. You feel that ball inside you start to tighten again.

“I’m not gonna last much,” you stop to moan again, as he kisses your calf. “Not gonna last much longer.”

The hand wrapped around your dress pulls you forward, making him reach deeper into you.

“Gonna cum all over my cock?” He groans down at you, using your dress as a handle to pull you back onto him over and over again as his pace picks up.

You nod and whimper.

His free hand snakes down to rub your clit in tight little circles, making you squirm under him and moan.

“Come on, baby, cum all over daddy’s cock.” He groans, his thrusts becoming sloppy and you know that he’s holding back on his own impending release.

His hand comes up to cover your mouth, his other hands still rubbing furiously against your sensitive nub. Something deep inside you snaps and send you tumbling over the edge, your vision going white as you clench around him hard. His thick cock still pistoning deep inside you.

His hand does little to muffle your moans and instead he pushes his thumb into your mouth. Your tongue wraps around him and you suckle greedily on the digit.

He groans at the sight, his hips snapping harder against yours.

“Not gonna last much longer, darlin,” his voice hitches when you graze your teeth along his thumb. “Where d’you want it?”

You let his thumb slip out of your mouth with a ‘pop’ and bite your lip. “Want it inside me, daddy.” You say, giving him a fucked out look.

His hips stumble as he looks at your pouty, swollen lips and wide eyes. “Want me to fill you up?”

You nod, his thumb still resting on your bottom lip, “please.” You beg.

He leans down, capturing your lips in his as he gives a few more sloppy, fast strokes. Then groaning into your mouth as he stills deep inside you, spilling his release into you.

You gasp as you feel the warmth spread through you, reaching deeper and deeper inside you. You swallow his moans, letting him rut inside you lazily as he comes down from his high.

He raises back up, pulling out of you. You’re so sensitive that you let out a quiet whimper at the feeling. He grabs a rag warm rag and starts slowly cleaning you.

Silence hangs in the air around you. You’re suddenly aware of everything that just happened. You just fucked your best friend’s dad. Your best friend’s dad just fucked you. Your best friend’s dad just made you cum twice on their kitchen counter.

And they were the best orgasms you’ve ever had.

He doesn’t say anything, just shoves himself back into his pants and fixes his clothes. You pull your panties back into place and shove your dress back down as far as you can while still seated on the counter.

“I’m on the pill.” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Oh,” he grunts. “That’s good.”

“So we don’t need to worry about that,” you trail off.

The sound of a door squeaking open down the hall causes you to jump off of the counter. Fully pulling your dress back into place, you practically jump away from each other, standing on opposite sides of the island he just defiled you on.

Sarah stumbles into the kitchen, swaying back and forth. Running into one wall and pushing off of it just to run into another one. She stops when she sees both of you.

“I’m not drunk,” she slurs, pointing a finger at Joel. She pulls the handle of the fridge open far harder than needed, grabbing a bottle of water, and slams it closed again.

She turns around on wobbly legs, then stops and glares at him again.

“You weren’t being mean to her were you?” She points a shaky finger towards you.

He smirks and darts his eyes over to yours, his eyes raking back down your body. “No, I was very nice to her.”

You shudder under his gaze.

“Good,” Sarah stumbles over to you, grabbing you in a too-tight hug and starts to drag you down the hall to her room. Her drunken, tear-filled voice travels back to the kitchen “Cause she’s my best friend and no one is allowed to be mean to her or I’LL FUCK THEM UP.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Note: this is literally the first thing I have ever written, if you’ve made it this far thank you so much!! (I’m usually not this freakay I promise)

[augustjoy]

You’re…intimidating.

Based on the following ask: For Hotch x reader, could I please request charming witty reader who Hotch has an obvioussss crush on and he's trying to flirt but he's out of practice and she's pretty extroverted, confident so she just doesn't register he's interested and he's getting grief from the team for being all puppy dog eyes at her? Pref non-BAU reader but maybe she works in a different FBI dept or she's a lawyer/consultant they work with often and Hotch is always the first to suggest working with her so he's not being subtle in wanting to spend time with her lol. Feel free to adapt!! Thanks!! ❤️Okay pookie!!! I’ve been thinking about this one and it might end up pretty self-indulgent and for that I am sorry – girlie works for cybercrimes (but transfers to the BAU – sorry it felt right) and she’s the best of the best like Penelope worships her…she’s a little alternative so Hotch admires her from afar because she’s not his usual type just PURE FLUFF

Aaron Hotchner x FBI! Fem Reader

Fluff

Word count: 2674

Not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI, age gap (reader is late 20’s, Aaron is 45), some explicit language, not an OC but reader is described to have some tattoos and piercings (nothing specific though), reader works for cybercrimes and is SUPER tech savvy, idiots in love, Hotch pining hard, tooth rotting fluff, canon typical violence, mentions of hacking and breaking laws, reader is an extroverted introvert, Reader is called “Agent Z” or “Z” because she is a gen z, let me know if I missed any

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Hotchner, this is the third time this month you’ve requested her. I’m beginning to think we should be offering her a spot in the BAU.” Director Cruz teased.

“If she’d be willing, I wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” Hotch shrugged.

“I’ll put in the consultation request and maybe I’ll bring up the idea of a transfer to her.”

Hotch stood and returned to the sixth floor, promptly running into Penelope, as she was making her way back to the Batcave.

“So, I heard I might be getting some assistance on our next case! You know if you keep inviting Agent Z to join us, I’m going to get used to having her around.”

“Would that be so bad?” Hotch asked.

“No, it definitely wouldn’t…unless she stops coming around.” Penelope retorted.

The look on Hotch’s face gave him away, there was a brief flash of disappointment at the suggestion of you not coming around anymore. He couldn’t bear the thought…which made him even more nervous than you did. Speaking of…

“Hey Hotch!” You called effectively startling him.

“Hello! I uh – I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“Ah well, Cruz emailed the request over and I got the notification, so I figured there was no time to waste.” You shrugged.

“Well, we might as well debrief the team then.” Aaron offered, gesturing toward the conference room.

--

Here’s the deal, Aaron had feelings for you, you had captivated him the first time he saw you. It was a Tuesday in July, the weather had been unforgiving…hot and humid, not ideal for the business attire of FBI agents.

As he made his way into the building, he’d taken note of how nearly everyone had their suit jackets or blazers slung over their arms, their sleeves rolled up as they hurried into the air-conditioned building.

But then there was you. You were wearing these chunky black loafers and black trousers, your top had been a simple black tank, it was hugging your skin in a way that made Aaron’s mouth go dry. You had a checkered cardigan tossed over your forearm that you had clearly removed. It allowed Aaron a view of the tattoos that adorned your arms.

He couldn’t explain the pull he felt…you had been so different from any woman he’d ever had any interest in before, but maybe that’s why things never worked out with them. Maybe the others were too stiff, too proper. Maybe he needed a little chaos in his life.

--

During the debriefing, Aaron had made sure you were sat next to him. He let Penelope present the case as usual and allowed time for theories. While Derek and Emily were talking back and forth about the possible age and gender of the unsub, Aaron’s eyes were trained on you. He could see your mind running a mile a minute.

“What is it?” Aaron asked, tapping your arm gently.

“Oh, no. I was just thinking. There’s something about the photo’s that were left at the crime scene…it feels familiar.” You shrugged.

“Have you seen another case like this?”

“I think so…” You pulled open your laptop and began searching through old case files and evidence you’d logged over the years. “Here! Hotch, look at this!”

Aaron leaned over, leaving hardly any space between the two of you. His gaze shifted from your profile to your computer screen, taking in the images before him. On your screen were photos that were nearly identical to those in the file the team had just reviewed.

It seemed as though this unsub took photos to document their work. Leaving some behind at the crime scenes, taunting law enforcement.

“We didn’t have very many leads back when this came across my desk, but I have new programs I can use to run these photos through now and with Penelope’s help, I think we could finally get this guy.” You explained.

“Alright, why don’t you travel with us so you can access the physicals of the photos.” Aaron suggested.

“Okay!”

“Alright then, wheels up in thirty.” Aaron commanded.

--

“Hey Agent Z! You joining us again?” Derek nudged you gently.

“Not this time, I was just asked to come and consult on a case.” You replied.

 “Oh, I see. Bossman calling in his favorite once again.”

“Stop! It’s not like that Derek.”

“Girl…you and I both know that it is.” Derek laughed and walked off.

You made your way to Aaron’s office, knocking on the door. When he calls out for you to enter, you go straight for the chair in front of his desk, plopping into it with a huff.

“You alright?” Aaron asks, concern lacing his tone. “We could do this later if you’re not up for it.”

“No! I’m happy to help! I’ve just got a decision to make, and I don’t know what to do.” You sighed. “Let’s talk about this case!”

Aaron and you went through the case that had been sent in from the NYPD. You were confused as to why he’d called you in to consult, the case had seemed pretty cut and dry…something Aaron would typically delegate to Derek or Dave. The tech aspect to this case was so minute, it was common sense…but you didn’t want to call him out on it.

--

“Thanks again for your help, hopefully the NYPD can close that case pretty quickly now.” Aaron walked you over toward the elevators.

“Any time. I like working with you and the BAU.” You smiled cheerfully.

“So um, what was that decision you have to make?” He inquired.

“Oh, uh…well, Cruz asked me if I wanted to transfer from Cybercrimes over to the BAU actually.”

“That’s great! I mean – I uh. Do you think you’ll do it?”

“I’m thinking about it for sure! It’s just, I’ve been with Cybercrimes for so long, I’d feel bad leaving them…ya know?”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

You said your goodbyes and you headed back to your office on the eighth floor. Aaron stood there for a bit, looking after you as you made your exit. He stood there a beat longer before turning and heading back to his office. Only he didn’t get that far. Upon walking through the glass doors, he was met with the whole team standing there waiting for him.

“You’re down bad Hotch.” Emily said.

“Yeah, that was almost painful to watch.” JJ agreed.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to.” Hotch shook his head and made his way back to his office.

--

Agreeing with the director to have you transferred was, quite possibly, the dumbest decision that Aaron could have ever made. He already struggled just being near you when you’d come and assist, but the thought of having you around all the time…what was he meant to do?

Subject: Agent Transfer – Effective immediately Good afternoon, This email is being sent to inform both the CCU and BAU of the immediate transfer of Agent Z. In discussing this transfer, she assured me that should the CCU need her assistance in a case, she’d happily help. She does, however, know that the agents on the team are more than capable of handling things. As for the BAU, given her expertise and background, she will travel with you as needed. I just want to remind you that Agent Z has a background in hacking, computer forensics, criminal justice, psychology, behavior analysis, amongst others. Utilize her skills – I believe she will make an incredible contribution to the BAU. Hotchner – her file was delivered to your office this morning. Also, she needs firearms training, please ensure she completes this before travelling with the team. Let me know if you have any questions. Mateo Cruz - Section Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit

Aaron read the email four times. You would be starting with the team today…he needs to get you scheduled for your firearms training and qualification exam. He figured he could do that while you get settled in the office adjacent to Penelope’s.

--

“Hey Hotch.” Your fingers rapped against the doorframe.

“Hi-Hello. Can I uh, show you to your office?” He asked.

“Penelope already beat you to it.” You teased. “But if you want to help me bring the last of my boxes down, that would be awesome.”

“Oh, I um-I…can-”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to! You’re a busy man, and I can ask Spence or Derek!”

“No, I’d love to help.” Aaron recovered.

“Okay.” You smiled.

Aaron led the two of you over to the elevator, allowing you to enter first, then following suit and pressing the button for the eighth floor. It slowly lifted before signaling your arrival on the CCU floor.

You guided Aaron to your old office where the last two boxes remained. There was an IT guy loading your monitors onto a cart, getting ready to move them for you. You looked around at the now empty space…it felt empty now, like it no longer belonged to you, and you supposed it didn’t anymore. Aaron couldn’t help but notice the slight sadness that took over your features.

“Are you alright?” He asked.

“Oh, yeah, I’m okay. It’s just odd, having had this office for the last four years, and now it’s empty…it’s not mine anymore.” Your gaze shifted downward. “It feels like the end of a chapter. While the feeling isn’t bad, because I’m really excited to be joining the BAU, it just feels kind of sad.”

“I know what you mean. I felt that same way when I left the law firm I worked at.” Aaron looked over at you.

You met his gaze, and he offered a small smile. You returned it, feeling this sense of comfort. He’d always brought up that feeling in you though. It was like this glowing warmth that spread its way through your entire being…but that flame only burned in you when he was around.

--

“And hold it just like that, good!” Aaron praised.

You fired three consecutive shots at the target, forming a neat cluster in the outlines chest. Pride bloomed in Aaron’s chest, and you squealed with excitement, throwing your arms around him!

“Thank you so much for helping me! There was no way I was going to pass this exam without you!”

“I’m not sure how you’ve been with the bureau this long and not had to get your firearm qualification.” Aaron shook his head with a laugh.

“Hey! I have been confined to the eighth floor for the last five-ish years, I haven’t needed to carry one.”

Aaron took note of the freckles that dusted your nose, and the way the light reflected in your eyes. He thought for a moment about how close you were, and how easy it would be to just lean in the last few inches and capture your lips in a kiss. But he had to shake the thought away.

--

“I PASSED!” You shouted, running your way through the BAU bullpen.

“Good lord, what are you yelling about?” Dave asked, coming out of his office.

“I PASSED! I PASSED!” You waved your firearms certificate in the air, making your way over to Aaron’s office.

He exited his office to see what the commotion was all about, seeing you shaking your hand, waving a piece of paper around like a mad woman. He was mesmerized by you. You were 100% yourself and he admired you for it, you weren’t worried about how others perceived you. You only worried about your own opinion; you wanted to be the best version of yourself always.

“HOTCHHH, I PASSED!” You ran over to him and jumped into his arms, wrapping your own around his neck.

Aaron held you tight, lifting you off the ground for just a moment before noticing the look on Dave’s face. He placed you down and quietly congratulated you. He couldn’t help but feel embarrassed at getting caught by Dave. He knew that he had done nothing wrong…but he also knew that Dave could read him better than anyone else.

--

“Okay, when are you going to ask that girl out?” Dave huffed, sitting in the chair across from Aaron.

“Dave.” Aaron scolded. “It’s inappropriate.”

“Aaron…you deserve it. Happiness I mean. So, are you going to let it pass you by or are you going to seize the moment?”

“Sir, I don’t mean to interrupt, but we have a case.” Penelope informed. “It’s a child abduction.”

“Let everyone know we’re leaving now – we will brief on the plane.” Aaron commanded.

“Is Z going with you?” Penelope asked.

“Yes!” Dave answered for Aaron.

--

Aaron always sat next to you on the plane. It had been purely accidental, you’d sat in his usual seat and though Aaron wouldn’t say anything, Spencer did. So, you moved over into the adjacent window seat and Aaron slid in next to you. Since then, you’d always sat there.

Like now for example, the BAU was headed home after a two-week long case. The unsub had been way too good at covering his tracks, he’d had the entire team stumped. Thankfully you’d found his slipup in a dark web chatroom. He’d posted video of him torturing his latest victim in a chatroom used by very sick people. It was flagged once you’d turned on notifications for keywords and certain video content. After receiving the notification, Penelope and you were able to track an IP address and narrow down the location.

It had been exhausting honestly, running around, back and forth, interviewing people, going through evidence, just going until you found this guy…and now that was finally catching up to you. Your head had been bobbing off to the side as you fought the throws of sleep. As you began dozing off once more, Aaron reached over and led your head to rest on his shoulder. You finally settled and snuggled a bit further into his side, and for once he leaned back and let himself rest on the flight home.

Emily pointed JJ and Derek’s attention over to the two of you and then giggled. Derek quickly snapped a picture and sent it in their group chat. Penelope was quick to reply with the happy tears emojis and saying “finally”.

--

Things had shifted slightly after that. And while the team still teased Aaron about his very obvious crush on you, he finally allowed himself to be more confident in his interactions with you. He realized that Dave was right…maybe he did deserve happiness.

He’d invited you to get lunch with him a few times during work and he’d brought you coffee. He thought he was making his affection for you more obvious…but you still didn’t budge. He was beginning to worry that you didn't feel the same.

But it all came to a head when he decided he needed to be direct. Not on his own…Emily and JJ had to confront him and then convince him that you did like him, you just didn’t think he liked you.

--

You walked into the elevator, just about to click the button to the sixth floor when an arm reached in to stop the door from closing.

“Oh! Good morning Hotch.” You greeted. “Sorry, if I had seen you coming I’d have held the door.”

“No worries.” He forgave. “Do you um – do you have any plans tonight?”

“No, I was thinking of ordering a pizza and watching an episode of The Great British Bake Off. What about you?”

You’re reply had been so innocent and sweet. Just a simple response to his question, not reading into what he was truly asking you.

“Sweetheart, though your plans sound wonderful…will you go to dinner with me tonight?” He asked.

Your jaw dropped, only for a moment as you worked to regain your composure. Had you really been that blind? The girls had told you time and time again that he was interested, and you’d brushed it off, not wanting to get your hopes up…but here he is now, asking you out.

“I would love to.” You smiled.

Taglist: @bernelflo@pastelpinkflowerlife@just-moondust

[hurtspideyparker]

Peter just wants to play board games. Surely someone in this giant compound will want to play with him

Mr. Stark said "in a minute", but that was 3 hours ago, so he's lost hope

Happy said no before he even got the words 'board game' out of his mouth, turning his back and walking out of the room Peter had just entered

Vision wasn't in his room, or anywhere else along Peter's search

Sam was 140 feet off the ground, and he's pretty sure he doesn't have super hearing, so Peter wandered off to find someone else

Steve said he'd love to, before promptly getting kicked in the head by Natasha, and changed his answer to a "maybe later"

Natasha seemed preoccupied beating up Captain America on the lawn

Rhodey was on a phone call, and he was using his no bullshit voice. Peter made the survival decision to leave before he was spotted

Scott was no where to be found (he made sure to be extra careful walking around the compound after that. He has enough guilt from stepping on real ants)

Wanda was in her room. Wanda seemed very busy

Peter now knows where Vision is. He seemed very busy also

Finally, he knocks on the last bedroom

"Hi. Do you want to play board games with me? It'll have to be two players because everyone else is busy."

"..."

"I have Monopoly, Trouble, Cranium, Guess Who Avengers edition, Scrabble, and Life. And card games! Regular cards and Uno."

The man looks at the stack of cardboard boxes Peter has been carrying around the entire compound, and points.

"Great choice!"

—Ⓐ—

"Tony? Why are you following me."

"I'm not following you Spangles, Friday said the kid was over here. I'm supposed to do something with him I think."

Steve slows down a bit and falls into place beside Tony.

"Board games? He asked me too. Guess it'll be more fun together."

"Oh how grand, and then we can have a roast dinner and adopt a puppy named Buddy."

Rolling his eyes amusedly, Steve reaches a fist up to knock at their destination.

Tony pushes open the door before Steve's knuckles meet solid matter, much to the soldier's exasperation; it's quickly forgotten at the sight inside the room.

A tiny, dainty furball sits in Bucky's lap, the taciturn man grasping her paw in his rough fingers in order to make her click the plastic dice container at the center of the Trouble board game. Her pink paw pads squish until the dome clicks and the dice jumps around.

"Six again! She has to be cheating." Peter accuses.

"Nah, she's just a criminal mastermind." Bucky picks up a yellow game piece and moves it ahead. The cat meows, pawing at it.

"Don't get greedy, you're already two points ahead of us."

"Ahem."

Bucky glances up at the men in his doorway, before ignoring them in favour of his turn.

Peter spins around. "Hey! You guys can join after this round. Alpine is beating our asses, so she can sit out the next game. Or we can play cards, that's enough players for everyone."

"What the hell is that thing doing on my property."

"It's a cat, Tony." the Captain says, unimpressed.

A targeted glare penetrates between Tony's eyes as Bucky opens his jacket. Alpine crawls inside immediately, curling up hidden from view.

"Uh uh, no way. How long have you been smuggling creatures into my business."

"I don't know, how long have you been an asshole—"

"Alright! Alright. Tones, the cat clearly isn't disturbing anyone if you didn't know it existed till now. Let it be."

"I'm allergic to cats."

"Good, stay away from us."

"Mr. Stark, Alpine is a sweetheart. She doesn't even shed that much. I think you're just scared she'll beat you at Black Jack."

Huffing, he crosses his arms. "Cats can't play cards."

Bucky and Peter share a look.

"He's scared."

"Most definitely."

Steve quirks an eyebrow at him before agreeing.

"You do seem a bit intimidated."

"This is unconstitutional. This is mutany. This, is blatant disrespect."

They stare back at him.

"Well? Who's dealing."

—Ⓐ—

"I've never felt more shame in my life, and I once woke up naked on the MIT lawn covered in what I hope was my own vomit, with a tour group of high schoolers and parents standing over me."

Steve pats a comforting hand on his shoulder as they walk away from Bucky's room.

"When you have a child genius and a determined assassin working together, I doubt you stood a chance."

"A cat!"

Steve breathes out his laughter, stopping outside of Tony's bedroom.

"Besides getting our pockets cleaned out by a snowball, I think it was nice. I want to play some of those games with the others."

Tony gives a grunt that Steve assumes is concurrence, stepping into his room and shutting the door.

"Oh, and Tony?"

The addressed man pauses, peaking through the door.

"They were counting cards."

Astonishment freezes him momentarily, before gathering his bearings as Steve walks away.

"Son of a—"

[katyawriteswhump]

Braced for rejection (trusting to love)

For @steddiemicrofic May prompt, 'delay.' WC: 408; Rating: T; Tags: Omega Steve, Alpha Eddie, fluff, rejection sickness, angst, hurt/comfort, Steve has mean parents, happy ending. Summary: Steve is particularly prone to rejection sickness but doesn’t want Eddie to have to stay home constantly. Eddie is totally on it.

��💕💕💕💕💕

The first time Eddie left for an out-of-town gig, Steve got rejection sickness. 

On Eddie’s return, he reassured Steve with gentle snuggles, rubbing Steve’s tummy till the misery melted away.

“I’ll quit the band, Stevie.”

“Please don’t. Jesus, you’ll hate me.”

“Yeah, like that’s possible.” Eddie spooned Steve so snuggly he’d no room for trembling.

Next morning, waking up burrowed into Eddie’s side, Steve felt silly. He trusted his Alpha. Why hold a future God of Metal back?

During Eddie’s next trip, Steve nested with Robin and Chrissy. Got so ill, he fainted at work.

Humiliating.

“What’s wrong with me?” he whimpered, weakly snuffling against Eddie’s chest.

“Nothing. Chrissy’s figured it out. Your parents were dicks, Baby. Your inner Omega expects me to reject you like they did. Whiplashes into sickness when I leave.”

“Please don’t quit music, Alpha. I’ll quit my job.”

“Hush. Got something shiny for my pretty.” Eddie clipped a copper-colored bracelet around Steve’s wrist, which he lifted to Steve’s nose. “It’s a super-special alloy. Absorbs scents waaaay better than clothing or nest items.”

Steve inhaled leather, citrus… Eddie. He managed a faint smile.

Sniffing the bracelet helped his rejection pangs, and with other crap too. Mean customers? No sweat. A quick whiff of Parfums-de-Eddie, Steve was smiling.

Eddie’s daily phone-calls helped more.

He’d always returned to Steve’s nest, smothering him in love.

Always.

Then Eddie’s flight home was delayed by storms. Steve found himself catastrophizing about lightning and crashes. Anxiety was a bitch. He felt sick, yeah… but he was still standing.

He’d not even snorted his Eddie ‘hit’. Steve pumped his fist.

He was applying mascara and lip-gloss when his mother waltzed into Family Video:

“Goodness, what a fright! I hear your tattooed freak has left you?”

Steve swallowed a desolate whine. She wouldn’t see him crumple. He was gonna use his bracelet, then hesitated.

Was she right? Had Eddie realized he was unlovable? Perhaps Eddie wasn’t delayed… but gone?

Shakily, he raised his wrist. Then dropped it, un-sniffed. 

“Anything else, Mom? Otherwise, kinda busy dolling myself up for my Alpha.”

She tutted and promptly left. Steve flipped the bird and unleashed the most satisfying sigh of his life.

His inner Omega had learned to trust.

Finally.

He sniffed the bracelet anyway. Yum. He licked it, giggled, and… Shiiit, he was getting giddy.

When Eddie got home, Steve was halfway into heat, squirming for his Alpha and soulmate in a one-hundred-percent happy way.

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

no pressure tag @wheneverfeasible 💕💕💕💕💕

my steddie fic on AO3 💕💕💕💕💕

[rodentcarnival]

Can't help but sleep | Hanni Pham

summary: being an idol is hard with the early schedules and late nights and you can’t seem to help but fall asleep in the most random places, luckily an otter is always there to make sure you're comfortable. 

warnings: none!

tags: fluff, idol!hanni x 6thmember!reader

WC: 2.3k

you never meant to make it a habit, but at some point, sleep just started happening wherever it could.

on the floor during short breaks? sure.

in the van with your cheek smushed against the window? why not.

in the middle of a phoning live? okay, that was one time. (it was not one time)

but it’s not like you didn’t try. you really, really did. you’d tell yourself “i’ll sleep early tonight,” and then you’d fall into a rabbit hole of watching hanni fan cams. but really you were just supporting your fellow member nothing more. totally not because you had a crippling addiction to anything that involved her. it was always embarrassing whenever you’d fall asleep in public. 

what made it slightly less embarrassing was that, for some reason, a little otter was always there.

the first time you noticed it was at the airport. you had stayed up the night before packing and promptly passed out in the lounge area while waiting to board. your hoodie was covering majority of your head with some glasses and mask covering your face. you fell asleep within minutes of sitting down, your mouth half open under the mask letting out little snores. how elegant.

when you woke up, there was a blanket over your shoulders and a small snack resting on your lap. you blinked at the packaging while rubbing your eyes, then at the familiar handwriting on the sticky note stuck to it.

“wake up soon or i’m eating this for you - 🦦”

you smiled. you didn’t say anything about it at the time, but the snack tasted better than usual.

after that, it started becoming a bit… obvious. not to you at first. you were too busy falling asleep during breaks or in between takes. but the other girls noticed.

"unnie snores," hyein said once. 

"no she doesn’t," dani cut in. "it’s more like… soft breathing. like a sleepy puppy."

"it’s kind of cute," haerin added, patting your head as you stirred awake.

"what i think is cutest is the way hanni stares at her like she's watching her favourite movie," minji whispered behind her hand.

hanni threw a grape at her.

you blinked confused, still trying to process why you had a neck pillow now when you definitely hadn’t brought one.

the edits started not long after.

fans had somehow found clips of you sleeping during backstage vlogs or bts videos. some had soft music layered under them, others were captioned with things like “the nation’s baby” or “protect at all costs.”

but the ones that got the most attention were the ones where a certain otter was nearby.

there was a specific one that got nearly a million views overnight. it was a five second clip of you curled up on a couch, your hoodie drawn over your head, and hanni walking by, slowing down, then joining you on the couch, holding you close. 

y/nnni_forever: "i don't think she knows she's in love" ilovenjz: "nah she knows, she just thinks no one else does"

it was the first performance of “right now” and you didn’t get good sleep the night before, which led to you falling asleep on the chair with your phone replaying the same tiktok. 

dani held up the camera, smiling and chatting towards it happily on the other side of the room. “hi friends~ i’m going with my natural hair today.” 

dani points the camera towards hanni, prompting hanni to speak, “we are performing right now! the choreo uses a desk and sofa, bet you weren't expecting that.” 

dani leaves the camera with hanni as hanni starts showing off her camera roll. “look i organized it, this is an album of me with short hair, these are ones taken on a film camera, and these are when y/n falls asleep hahaha.” 

what fans seemed to notice was the abundant photos hanni took where her face would be super close to yours, making it a clip bunnies put in their edits. 

“you might be wondering where is y/n?” hanni picks up the camera quietly walking to you with a finger lifted to her lips indicating “shhhh”. 

the camera panned to you sprawled on the chair with your phone hanging by a thread of your hand. 

“another one to add to the collection, bunnies dont you think shes cute?” 

later that night, when you checked your own phone, you found airdropped photos from hanni. not the embarrassing ones. just the ones where she’d managed to catch you mid nap, soft lighting casting gentle shadows on your face. some even had her in the corner of the frame, blurry but smiling.

“these are just for you, don’t delete them or else you die - 🦦”

things kept piling up like that. quiet little things. thoughtful little things.

like how she always made sure your favourite snack was stocked in the dressing room.

or how she’d put a water bottle into your hands after a particularly exhausting performance.

or how whenever you leaned on her without realizing, she never moved.

you once asked her why she never woke you up when you slept on her shoulder.

"because you look peaceful," she said. then added with a grin, "and also because you drool and it’s funny."

you smacked her arm. she laughed.

you fell asleep during a solo phoning call once. it was late into the night but you just wanted to update the bunnies on what you’d been up too while trying your best to stay alert, nodding and smiling and occasionally answering the questions.

“yeah… and hanni and i *yawn* went to the… hold on i just need to close my eyes...” you said, you just needed to rest your eyes for a couple moments and you’d be back to 100%. just a few seconds… 

and then you knocked out.

njz#1fan: “HELP SHE FELL ASLEEP”  emominji: “ayo someone get hanni in here her gf’s fell asleep on live.”

when you woke up, hanni had your head in her lap while one hand was combing your hair and the other scrolling on her phone like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“good morning sunshine,” she said, not even looking up.

“did i…?”

“yep. fully knocked out in the middle of a sentence.”

you groaned. “i’m never gonna live this down.”

“don’t worry,” she said, ruffling your hair. “i told the fans you were just overwhelmed by their love.”

you stared at her.

“you’re welcome.”

one night, after a long concert, the dorm was unusually quiet. everyone had gone to bed except you and hanni. you were curled up in the corner of the couch, blinking sleepily at a drama that you had paused for twenty minutes as you were trying to regain your eyesight as it was blurring. 

"why are you fighting it?" she asked softly.

"what?"

"sleep. you're literally swaying.”

you rubbed your eyes. “i don’t wanna miss the ending.”

“you’ve seen this episode four times.”

“but you’re still awake, i don’t want you to be lonely…”

she came over, pulled a blanket from the back of the couch, and draped it over you. then, without hesitation, sat beside you and gently guided your head to her lap.

you blinked up at her. “again?”

“yes. now shut up and sleep.”

you giggled.

“you love this, don’t you?” you teased.

“maybe,” she shrugged, brushing a stray hair from your face.

“you’re not subtle, you know.”

“good,” she said. “then i don’t have to say it out loud.”

you looked up at her with tired eyes.

“…say it anyway.”

hanni’s fingers paused in your hair.

she smiled, soft and small.

“i love you.”

you fell asleep with that echo in your chest.

it started with poking and prodding at your face to keep you awake.

you weren’t sure when it became hanni’s go to tactic for keeping you awake, but at some point, it had evolved into a whole routine.

“you’re doing it again,” she whispered during a photoshoot, eyes glinting with amusement as she nudged your arm.

you blinked slowly, lips parted in the middle of a very poorly timed yawn.

“no i’m not,” you lied, swaying slightly in your seat.

hanni leaned in closer, smirking. “you’re literally moving like a drunk person.”

you made a face. “i’m awake.”

“sure you are,” she said, poking your cheek once. “totally alert.”

poke.

“super energized.”

poke.

“ready to model.”

poke poke.

“stop,” you whined, batting her hand away with the weakest slap known to mankind.

she just laughed, leaned in, and squished your cheeks together with both hands.

“look at this sleepy lil chipmunk,” she said in a voice that was definitely not meant for public consumption but the camera caught it.

you blinked up at her with puffed cheeks, lips squished into a pout. “thif is cruh ool.”

“you love it,” she said, ruffling your hair.

you didn’t respond. mostly because you her hands where just so comfortable you felt like sleeping right there. 

the fans noticed. of course they did.

a week later, there was a fan edit titled “HANNI VS Y/N’S SLEEPINESS” that racked up half a million views in two days.

it opened with the now infamous “chipmunk face” clip, set to titanic music. then it cut to various moments across videos. 

the first clip showed you, mid eyeliner when your eyes started drooping.

one of the stylists had been chatting softly with haerin nearby, and the makeup brush gently paused against your lid when your head tilted a little too far to the side. you didn’t stir, breathing slow and even.

a soft bop to the tip of your nose made your eyes flutter open.

hanni stood beside you grinning.

“you almost snored,” she whispered, then tapped your nose again for good measure. “wake up cutie.”

you blinked at her a little dazed, and then immediately began to pretend you were definitely awake the whole time.

[beep]

you were sitting next to hanni during a phoning live, both of you in matching couples pjs that you both swore was just what besties do, greeting fans and answering comments .

you were mid sentence when a yawn broke out. your mouth stretched wide, blinking slow, voice trailing off completely.

without missing a beat, hanni gasped and threw herself backwards, one hand clutching her chest.

“NOOOO SHE’S GOING UNDER WE’RE LOSING HER,” she shouted dramatically, causing the live chat to explode in chaos.

you tried to glare at her through half lidded eyes, but it was hard when you were also fighting to stay upright.

“this is betrayal,” you mumbled.

“bunnies she might not make it” hanni continued, waving her arms. “press 1 to send caffeine. press 2 to send cuddles.”

“press 3 and i’ll cuddle with hanni :) who am i kidding i’ll do it regardless if you guys type it.” you said, falling backwards into hanni's arms.

[beep] 

rehearsal was dragging. the lights were harsh, your body sore, knees weak, arms heavy, no vomit on your sweater, and the sofa prop was starting to look way too inviting.

you were standing behind it, trying your best not to give up on standing. maybe if you closed your eyes for just a second you could wish away the tired feeling. 

a very loud clap then happened next to your ear.

you practically jumped out of your skin shouting. 

hanni was there, eyes wide in fake innocence, palms still together from the clap.

“WAKE UP SOLDIER, RISE AND GRIND IT’S A NEW DAY,” she barked, grinning as the others burst into laughter behind her.

your soul had already left your body. you just stared into the distance, hands limp by your sides.

“my ghost will haunt you,” you muttered.

“as long as your ghost is as cute as you,” she replied.

the fans loved your dynamic with hanni. 

bunniesforever: “if i had my own otter waking me up each time, id also fall asleep all the time”  hatevegetables: “they’re literally dating idc” tomatofrog34: “if my future gf doesn’t wake me up like hanni i don’t want her”

you watched the video three times with blush dusting your cheeks, smiling at your phone in the middle of the night like a crazy person. 

you sat at your desk in your room, working on some lyrics for the new comeback song before deciding to call it a night. you turned off the lights, played some soothing white noise in the background and laid in bed. 

and you continued laying there, wide awake. for some reason it felt lonely, like there was something missing. 

then it hit you. 

getting up from your bed, you grabbing your pillow, hugging it close to your chest as you made your way out of your room and down the hall. stopping in front of a familiar door, you knocked lightly as shuffling could be heard from the inside before the door cracked open. 

“y/n? is everything okay?” hanni said, her voice laced with sleepiness. 

“i’m sorry for bothering you this late at night, i just was wondering if i could sleepover?” you said with a cheeky smile. even if hanni was annoyed at being waken up so late into the night, she could never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with you. 

she opened the door more and gestured for you to come inside before flopping onto her own bed, snuggling back under the covers. you close the door and get into bed right next to her. 

pulling her closer, you closed your eyes, resting your chin on her head. when you heard her breathing evening out you finally mustered the courage to speak. 

“goodnight hanni, i love you” you whispered, kissing her forehead. 

“i love you too y/n” hanni mumbled half asleep. 

a bright red colour consumed your face, even when you laid next to hanni. that night you couldn't sleep because you spent the whole time admiring her face. 

[silentcryracha]

1k special love week: 1. Bang chan

Pairing: bang chan x reader

Context: part one of eight for my Special Love Week in celebration of 1k followers (🤍). Drabble based on 3 prompts which are 'loves when + kink + sex position'.

Warnings: 18+ only, very minimum buildup, it's 99% smut, one shot, see prompts, fingering (f receiving), intercourse p in v, non protected (but they're married), talk of cum & its consequences (breeding kink hello?), pet names (baby, my love) , a couple uses of the word daddy

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: Bang Chan loves when you get needy + Dom/sub & Breeding Kink + missionary (+variations)

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Chan loves it when you're needy. Anytime, really. It may be sexual but it also can not be. Being needed is a love language to him. He loves to help, to be the person you go to when you need something. May be something silly like moving a piece of furniture (strenght kink hello?), something more serious like an advice.

Of course he's into it because he cares about you and he loves you, but let's be honest here, it also does feed his ego in some way. That especially comes into play when this neediness is paired with horniness. Then it's over, for both you and him.

You know he likes to be more dominant most of the times, but even then, at the end of the day, it's really you who has him wrapped around your finger.

"Channie are you busy?" you ask, maybe even with a slightly exaggerated whiny voice.

He turns his head a bit to look at you from his seat at the living room table where he'd been working on his laptop for hours.

"Kind of, why baby?" he answered back, promptly welcoming you with one arm as you walked up to him.

"I was wondering if you could give me a massage?" he smirked , squeezing the flesh of your waist sightly.

"Just out of the blue?"

"Actually I think I strained by back a bit from cleaning today" you chuckled, but his smiled dropped so fast it was almost comical. A mixture of worry and annoyance taking its place.

"Did you move the couch by yourself again?" he scolded, standing up and quickly closing the laptop's screen simultaneously. "You hurt yourself last time too. I told you to call me if you needed help"

His tone was becoming a bit intimidating, but you knew he just wanted to help, and especially for you not to get hurt.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, putting your doe eyes on to try and sweet talk yourself out of it.

"I didn't 'hurt' myself! I just got tired, alright? It happens" you shrugged, but you could tell he wasn't happy.

"It happens but if you did as i told you and asked me for help, it wouldn't have" he responded, then added "Now go lay down, I'm gonna get some aloe."

That's when dom/sub dynamic jumps out. When Chan gets annoyed, fake or to play, you automatically obey. It would be a lie to say that you didn't know where this whole situation was gonna go the second you started it.

"Yes" you tried your best to suppress a smile as you walked in your shared bedroom, turning on the warm colored night light.

Then you laid on the bed on your belly, arms hugging the pillow on which your head rested.

A couple of minutes later Chan walked in the room. You didn't quite see him, as your face was turned the opposite way, but you felt him climbing on the bed, straddling your legs.

"Take the sweater off, or it's gonna get sticky" he says. You get up enough to comply, placing it on your breasts, then laying back down.

"Warm it up a bit, please" you asked softly, knowing that the aloe was going to be super cool against your warm skin. It was the chilly autumn season, after all.

"Yeah" he reassured. You heard the sound of the bottle popping open and close, then being discarded to the side.

"I'll try my best" he spoke again, rubbing his palms together to warm up the gel, "But you didn't listen and hurt yourself, so you gotta handle a bit of cold. It'll feel better." His tone was pretty neutral, but the scolding was clear.

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?"

"Do you want the massage or not?" He stopped his movements. You sighed.

"Sorry"

"That's more like it" it was subtle, but you knew him well enough to know he had a stupid smirk on his face. Unfortunately, you were so down bad, that it turned you on even more.

Suddenly his hands touched the skin of your shoulder blades, making you gasp a bit.

"Are they too cold, still?"

"No, it's good. I was just surprised" you chuckled. At that point he started the actual massage, skillfully using his thumbs and other fingers to put pressure.

"Relax, alright? Just tell me if it hurts" you nodded at the best of your abilities due to your position, without replying.

Chan kept working, starting from your upper back, then going back and forth between places. You were in fact so relaxed, your eyelids were almost falling shut. Until he got to your shoulders, which got you instantly back to earth, hissing.

"Tough spot?" He asked. You hummed in agreement, making the pressure of his fingers slightly less forceful but still going.

"I can tell" he paused, "How about here?" he moved his thumbs up, at the nape of your neck.

"Mmh, yes. Feels really good" you answered, feeling almost floaty. So much that you involuntarily started sighing softly.

"Does my baby feel better?" His buttery voice, just a tad bit condescending, sparked something in your stomach.

"Uh uh" he chuckled, now using his palms to caress you, all up and down your back, waist, sides.

"Good. 'Cause the gel is completely dry." And despite that, his movements didn't stop. They just changed the intention.

He lightly traced the tip of his fingers around, giving your goosebumps and sometimes eliciting a small giggle because of tickling.

"Are you sleepy?" He asked sweetly. You shook your head no, looking back at him. He was smiling, but his gaze sharpened as he looked at your face.

"Yes, you are" he teased. You tried to hide a cheeky smile, shaking your head again. You were just trying to be childish, shaking your whole body along with your head.

But your cute butt shaking like that right in front of his eyes and dangerously close to his crotch, kind of sealed the deal. He looked down, then back up at you.

Then, suddenly, slap!

You yelped in surprise as both of his hands came down to slap your ass. He laughed.

"No? Show me, then." He challenged. You didn't need to be told twice.

You managed to roll over on your back, with him still hovering over you. His eyes immediately went to your bare tits, but you didn't let him enjoy the view as you pulled him down towards you by his hoodie.

You started kissing, quite passionately right from the get go. But as much as Chan liked to make out, he wanted to get comfortable.

So he paused, taking off his hoodie quickly, as well as his tracksuit pants and boxers, all in one go. In the meantime, you also discarded your sweater, then taking off your own pants and panties.

When finally you were both naked, you immediately went back to kissing. Chan wrapped one arm around your torso, pulling you towards him, as he worked to get the sheets over you two.

You gave him a questioning look at first, not immediately understanding what he was doing.

"You got goosebumps all over" he explained, also getting between your legs.

"Thank you baby" you mumbled, kissing him again sweetly.

You spent several minutes humping each other and making out, with a little biting and sucking, both probably more tired than you cared to admit.

You properly started to lose it when Chan grabbed himself and slid the head of dick around your drenched pussy, including your sensitive clit.

"C-channie please" your finger pads pressed into his shoulders hard as you whined.

"Please, what?" He replied, voice low, eyes glassy and fixated on yours. Lips plump and slightly agape.

A few strands of his hair had started to get damp and stick to his forehead from the head of your bodies, the adrenaline, and probably also because of the heavy duvet.

He looked so fucking good, enough to make you go stupid.

"Please get inside me" you chocked out, "I need it so bad, please baby" desperation dripping from your words.

"Where does my baby need me? Here?" Two of his fingers slid right in your pussy, no resistance whatsoever by how completely wet you were all over.

You whined a bit, trying to get him closer with your arms.

"N-not enough" you sobbed, "I need your cock, please baby, please"

"Since my love asks so nicely..." He leaned down, placing his plush lips on yours in a sweet kiss, distracting you from the moment in which he actually did enter you.

You both sighed and moaned, in ecstasy. You both liked to get freaky, even a bit rough. But missionary, and all its variations to be honest, were your favorites.

In that position he was dominant, in charge of the work. And you were laying there, needy and desperate, like he wanted you. Not to mention the easy accessibility to your tits, waist, legs, ass.

But let's be real, the actual reason why you both loved that position so much it's because it's intense. Romantic, passionate, creates a close connection, and you have each other's faces right there to kiss. What's better than that?

Maybe the fact that he can go deep...like really deep. Especially when he gets into it and puts your legs over his shoulders, or just keeps them spread at his sides.

Not to mention...that the position itself adds greatly to Chan's whole (and obvious) breeding kink. Just the thought of him spilling his seed inside you, and possibly keeping it there as long as possible, just gets him gone.

Chan was keeping his hands on the side of your face as he went back and forth, inside you, at a fast and rough pace.

His mouth alternated in between giving you kisses and spurring you on with his dirty talk.

"How do you feel, my love?" He panted, "Does your Channie's cock make you feel good?" His voice was so erotic and full of tease, it drove you crazy.

"Mmh- y-yes...'so good daddy" you were so out of it you barely realized the word that slipped from your lips. It wasn't the first time, but it wasn't usual.

He chuckled faintly, still going hard on your abused pussy. He leaned down again, starting to kiss and lick the side of your neck, near your ear.

"Your daddy, uh?" He teased, whispering, "That's right. Daddy 'll take care of you"

All that teasing was getting your even more flushed and lightheaded than you already were, your pussy clenching in involuntarily agreement. Chan groaned at that, chuckling wickedly because he knew what he was doing.

"I..." You whined.

"Ssh, I know, it's alright. You close baby?" You nodded, nuzzling his shoulder with your face.

"Good, good girl" he kissed your head, "Come for me"

Didn't take anything more than that for you to reach your high, your hole clenching around his length, and you shivering from the aftermath and intensity.

Chan slowed down but didn't stop, allowing you to gently get off, except that you started grinding on his crotch.

"You wanna come again?" He smirked, short of breath. You nodded, but it wasn't enough for Chan.

"Say it" he ordered, "I wanna hear my little cum slut say that she wants to cum again"

"Ffuuck yes, I-i'm a little cum slut that wants to cum a-again" you exclaimed, suddenly reinvigorated by the new chase to your second orgasm, to which you were already so close.

"Whose?"

"Yours! Your cum slut, your baby, your everything" you responded, desperately. Chan groaned at that, his pace getting faster.

"Yeah, that's fucking right, my love, my whole world" he mumbled, kissing your lips.

"Can I come with you, mmh? Can I, baby?" You nodded frantically, cupping his face in your hands.

"Yes, please come with me, I wan' it" you slur, "Want your cum inside me, fuck" you gasped as he hit a particularly good spot, just above your cervix.

"Fuck yes" he moans, "Want my cum? Wanna make me a real daddy? So everyone knows who you belong to?"

Your legs clenched around his waist, your heels pushing his butt further into you, if that was even possible.

"Yes" you answer, "Wanna be filled up, carry you around with me everywhere"

That was the last drop for you both to orgasm. Him for the first time, and you for your second. Chan groaned deeply, stilling inside you as his seed sprayed your warm walls. While your own pussy pulsated, wet and sticky.

You remained hugged for a good while, him softening inside you. His breath became so quiet and regular that for a moment you thought he had fallen asleep.

"Channie?" You whispered sweetly. He hummed back, making you smile. Your fingers started to lightly scratch his scalp and caress in between his short hair.

"Now, I'm sleepy" he mumbled, hugging your body tighter.

"You can rest, love" you reply.

"Gotta clean you up" he replied back. So at that point you moved delicately, hinting at him to get off of you. You got up, on slightly wobbly legs and almost jumped for how cold the floor was against your hot feet.

You went into your shared bathroom and grabbed a towel, wetting it a bit. You then came back, finding Chan laying on his side, his hand resting on where you should be, waiting.

"Get the covers back a bit, baby" you say, and he complies. You delicately clean his lower area, including his abs which were full off little droplets. Did you squirt a bit? You didn't even realize.

When you were done you went back in the bathroom, and cleaned some droplets of both your juices that had trickled down your thighs. Then discarded the towel, and peed before coming back into the bedroom.

You picked up all the clothes, putting back on the panties and the sweatshirt.

"Baby do you-?" You were asking if he wanted to get redressed, but his eyes were closed and his mouth pouty. He fell asleep. You smiled warmly, just picking up the boxers and putting away the rest of the clothes.

Then you climbed up on the bed, putting one foot then the other in each hole of the boxers, then trying your best to slide them up. Chan did wake up for a slight second, realizing what was happening, and promptly arched his hips to allow you to pull the fabric up all the way.

After that, you reached your arm to turn off the bed light, and then finally you were back hugging your husband, falling asleep quickly as well.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[lovelynim]

Undivided attention

Love and Deepspace - Rafayel x Reader

A/N: Sorry for making you wait this much, @ppystkposts, and thank you for the patience! While this is more of an art trade than a comm, you were still an amazing client and I had a blast working on this piece for you!

Also, shout out and kudos to @/ticklygiggles for beta reading this monstrosity of a fic for me!

Summary: Something happened and made Rafayel upset at you. The problem? You don't even know what it is!

Word count: 5137 words

[Also on Ao3]

Friday, 6 p.m. 

You couldn’t recall the last time a shift took this long to end. Maybe you were just excited for this weekend - you had a lot planned, after all - but you couldn’t help but wonder if those boring reports were totally free of any guilt.

“I’m sooo tired,” Tara whined, standing by your side in the changing room. You giggled, opening your own locker while listening to her rambling. “If I see a single more wanderer, I swear!”

“Well, there could always be an emergency call,” you teased, holding back a chuckle when you heard Tara groan.

“Nooo, don’t say that!” She pouted, throwing you a deadly glare before continuing to change her clothes, “I need at least a week- no, a month without seeing those things after today!”

“Two days is the best captain Jenna can grant you. Take or leave it,” you smiled at her, but she had a good point there. A week off sounded like heaven right now. Still, who were you to refuse two days off work?

With your uniform carelessly tossed into a bag, you kept yourself busy buttoning up your shirt, looking down at that trail as one stubborn button refused to get into place.

Just as you were about to get it in, something else captured your attention and drove your eyes elsewhere.

“So, any plans for the weekend?” Tara hummed, breaking the silence. She sat on the bench behind you, changing her uniform skirt for some casual jeans. “It’s been a while since we went out together ~”

“I can’t,” you mumbled back, already lowering your head to focus on your previous task and starting from ground zero again. “Me and Raf-”

“Uuugh,” she interrupted, resting her elbows on her thighs and her head on her hands. She pouted, looking at you with a judgemental side-eye. “Guess the mr. perfect got to you before me, again.”

“Hey,” you snapped, finishing your shirt before turning to her with an arched eyebrow, “that wasn’t very nice of you.”

“You’re not being very nice either. What happened to ‘chicks before dic-’”

“Don’t you dare finish that!” You pointed at her, frowning.

“But ever since you two started dating we never hung together again!” Tara crossed her arms and stomped her feet, clearly upset with being demoted to the B-plan for your weekends. “We are barely friends at this point… I should just invite someone else for my super-awesome-weekend schedule.”

“Aw, Tara…” You cooed, dropping yourself on the bench right next to her. You placed your hand on her thigh, cocking your head to the side to try to get a look at her face. “But we are friends, Rafayel isn’t changing that.”

Tara promptly ignored your approach, turning her face away and letting a small ‘humph’ sound. “That’s not what it looks like.”

“It’s- it’s important for him this time, I swear!” You whined, shaking her leg a bit to emphasize your words. “You’re making a villain out of me, we were together the whole week!”

“We were working together the whole week, it’s different!”

It was like pushing against an immovable wall. An immovable, cold and extremely annoyed wall. Were you really that bad of a friend? Or was Tara just being extra dramatic this time? Some seconds went by as you gave it some thought and decided that you couldn’t let yourself be treated like this.

She wanted to ignore you? Well, you’d like to see her try, then.

“Taraaaa ~” You called for her again, almost singing her name this time. You lifted your palm from her thigh, letting the tip of your fingers brush against her leg and up to her waist. Her leg twitched as soon as you prodded at the spot near her hip. “Are you really mad at me? You’re not, right?”

“S-stop it! I’m nohot in the mood fohohor your stupihid games!”

She was quick to respond to your mischievous touch - as expected of a hunter, after all. Tara’s hand latched onto your wrist, promptly trying to dislodge your hand from her body. Her grip was strong, but it wouldn’t be your first time overpowering her in moments like this. “But I don’t want my best friend mad at me ~”

“Thehen you shohould be a behehetter friend! A-ahagh, enohough!” She giggled angrily, turning her body around to push you away with her other hand. She had that crooked, yet cute smile on her lips and you could only grin back at her. 

With her hand pressing against your cheek, you reached for her other side as well and quickly wiggled your fingers against it, dragging your nails over the clothed skin. “Taraaa ~ don’t be mad! Forgive me, please? I swear I’ll stop if you do!”

She let out a groan - or was it a squeal? Whatever it was, it was clearly a result of your efforts. “You dohOHon’t deseheherve my fohohorgiveness!” She hissed, even trying to bring her knees up and curl herself into a ball to escape from your apologetic tickles. Fruitless, of course.

Before you could take note of it, Tara had her back laid on the bench and you on top of her, straddling one of her legs while both your hands tickled her restlessly.

So far, she had already punched your arms at least five times and pushed your thrice. There were also two attempts to tickle you back, but she couldn’t keep her hands lifted for long enough to actually make it work. Tara was already laughing her heart out, but her anger seemed to have a better endurance than her this time.

“Come on, I’m going to be late at this rate!” You teased her, your thumbs drilling into her lower ribs, “if I take too long, Rafayel might ask me for another date!”

“ThehEHEhen gohoho kihihiss your duhuhumb bohOHOho- boyyfriehehend!” She snapped, her heel hitting the bench behind you and making the whole thing shake a little. You furrowed your brows, just how stubborn could she be? You already lost count of how many times you apologized!

Just as you were about to take some drastic, but much needed measures, someone else’s voice broke into the room’s chaos. It was gentle, but there was some lingering annoyance and arrogance on it, almost as if it carried some sort of superiority - or as if its owner believed so.

“Is now not a good time, ladies?” Rafayel mocked, leaning against a nearby wall and crossing his arms, stuck-up. He stared at the scene while you slid off Tara’s lap, making room for her to sit back up.

You and her exchanged looks, a mistake on your part as now you felt yourself being judged by both parties. Still, Tara seemed a bit more convinced. She rolled her eyes, giving you a soft smile. “Hi, Rafayel. We were just about to go out.”

“Oh, I could tell,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh of disbelief at Tara’s attempt of explaining the situation, “I assume you two just got distracted, then.”

“Heeeey,” you interrupted, getting yourself between them and walking towards Rafayel. You cornered him against the wall, giving that angry frown a kiss before looking up to him, “I’m sorry for leaving you waiting, ok? No need to get feisty.”

You stepped back, trying to see if the whole picture was looking any better after your attempt of making peace with the angry boyfriend. “I’m almost done changing, see? Just give me a moment and I’ll be outside, ‘kay?” You explained while you pushed him out of the room. Noticing how Rafayel made no effort to resist it, you assumed he wasn’t as mad anymore.

When you walked back into the changing room, Tara was already standing before her locker. She brushed her index finger over her lip, applying some balm on it. “I didn’t mean to make you two fight,” she muttered, shyly looking at you.

“Fight? Pfft, as if,” you shook your head, doing your hair and then slamming your locker’s door close. “We never fight, like- we are such a dream couple, you know?” She giggled, shaking her head. “I will make it up to you, ok? Lunch for a week, my treat!”

“Fine, I take it, then,” Tara nodded, hugging you goodbye before walking past you and towards the exit, “enjoy your weekend! And…” she stopped, looking at something outside the room before moving her eyes back to you, “good luck.” 

You raised your eyebrow, confused, but shrugged it off. There was no time to really worry about that now, was there?

As you walked outside, Rafayel was the first thing you spotted. “Did I make you wait for long?” You asked sweetly, trying to work your charms on him.

“You did,” he answered coldly, stubbornly refusing to take your hand for the first few tries before finally giving in. “I was about to drive back home without you.”

“I know you wouldn’t dare,” you teased him, giving him some of your affection by force. You wrapped your arms around his, letting Rafayel guide the way to the parking lot, “ohh, are you driving by yourself this time? Or is there a driver waiting for us?” You chirped with excitement, tugging at his arm while trying to get a look at his face.

The only thing you could see, however, was a frown. Thinking about it, he didn’t really say anything ever since you two left the main building - he wasn’t even holding you back! 

“Rafayel?” You called again once there was no response in a good while, “I'm talking to you,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes. You could hear a sigh before Rafayel threw a glance over you, acknowledging your words but still refusing to answer your call.

He shook his arm off your grip, taking a few steps to increase the distance between you two. You were about to throw your purse at his head, but noticed how he turned around and got in the car by the door on the other side. Tsk, what’s with that attitude? “If you are going to treat me like that, I’m canceling our plans,” you threatened, almost as if infected by his annoyance after being exposed to it.

“Sorry, I’m just with something else in mind,” Rafayel replied shortly, drily, almost as if to fulfill some sort of protocol. He took the driver’s seat, fastening the seat belt and quickly getting his hands on the steering wheel.

You huffed, not believing his excuse. “And what is it, then?”

“...Forget it,” he mumbled, stepping on the gas pedal and looking at the mirrors and then around the car. Pretty much anything but you.

It was helpless, you thought, leaning back into your seat and resting your head on it. You felt the inertia hit you as he speeded out of the parking lot, entertaining yourself with the landscape changing outside the window.

You could hear the motor’s gears purring, his fingers fiddling with the wheel and AC blowing inside the car. It was just this quiet, after all. The kind of silence you could only hear around Rafayel when he was sad or angry - or both. Still, why?!

You were upset that you made him upset and even more that you couldn’t figure it out. 

Your mind went through all your important dates together - first kiss, anniversary, colleagues’ meetings - you didn’t miss a single one. 

You tried to think of details you could’ve missed - a new haircut, new clothes, a gift he bought for you, some picture he shared online and you forgot to like - but were any of those serious enough to make him mad? Or, better saying, to make him this mad?

You rested your chin on top of your hand, staring at some unknown distance. In the window, you could also see Rafayel’s reflection faintly, translucent. It was still clear enough, however, for you to see a pout on his lips. You stroked his image on the cheek with your index finger, feeling like the worst partner in the world for making him feel like that.

Before you could spiral into any other sad or worried thought, your body gently swung forward and then back into the seat. You blinked, taking notice of your surroundings again and having your eyes met with a familiar scenery: his home.

“What are you doing?” Rafayel asked, not as sweetly as you wished for. You looked up to the reflection, already spotting the features of confusion on his face that you’d meet as soon as you turned around.

“Distracting myself,” you mumbled, your hand leaving the window to reach for the seatbelt’s buckle, unlocking it and freeing yourself. “Nothing to worry abou- Rafayel?”

Now it was your turn to be confused at his actions. Your hand rested on top of the door handle, shaking it just to find that it was still locked. Rafayel stared at you, his lips quivering as if something was about to burst out of them.

But no, it didn’t.

“I… I forgot to unlock it, sorry,” he answered sheepishly, pressing a button near the steering wheel and making a firm, perceptive ‘click’ sound echo inside the car. “Let’s go,” he added, stepping out of the vehicle without looking back this time.

You sighed as soon as the sound of his door closing shut reached your ears, now being kept inside the car by something else other than a locked door: hesitation. 

It’s been at least half an hour since you clocked out of work and you still had no idea what you could possibly do to make up for him. You didn’t even know what you’re supposed to make up for, after all. Blindly apologizing would probably make things worse and, truth to be told, was there anything to apologize for?

You shook your head, taking one last breath to prepare yourself for what would be the start of a long weekend together. If you two made up tonight, you’d still have two days to enjoy each other’s company - you told yourself, trying to look at the brighter side and keep a positive view of this mess.

You lifted your chin from the moment you stepped out of the car to when you met him before his front door. Rafayel still had that blank, emotionless facade that seemed to work as a disguise for a frustrated one.

Silently, he looked down to his keys, opening the door and stepping aside to make way for you to walk in. The living room had that familiar mess that you grew accustomed to. Paintbrushes, canvas, paintings and sketches scattered around from the corner where he usually worked to the part “spared” for welcoming the guests. One would certainly be taken back by the sight - like you once did - but this was nothing but an everyday sight at this point.

“Did you start a new project?” You hummed, kneeling by some discarded pages and checking the sketches on them. As if trying to find a sense behind that mess, you started to tell some similarities between the drawings on each page, as if Rafayel was getting closer to a final product. “Is it a flower? Are you painting a bouquet this time?”

“Not really, just experimenting,” the answer came from the distance as he stopped by the door for a moment. You heard his footsteps approaching and then lifted your head to see him walk past you, straight to the couch on the other side of the large living room. “I don’t really want to talk about work right now…”

“Then let’s talk about something else,” you followed him, your eyes fixed on his figure, “like why you seem upset that I’m here.”

Rafayel looked at you with widened, worried eyes. It was probably the first time he did it in a good while, you thought. “What? Nonsense, why would I be upset at that?” He asked defensively, frowning at the accusation even. “I waited the whole week for this!”

“But that’s not what it looks like,” you retorted, further closing the distance between you two like a predator cornering its prey, “it feels like you’re avoiding me, like you’re spending time with me just because you need to, not because you want it,” you sighed, frustrated, “are you angry? Did I mess up?”

You could see him flinch, realisation over something you were still now aware of dawning on him. “...no, I’m not angry. It’s nothin-”

“Rafayel!” You groaned, sitting back up straight, “so you are ignoring me over nothing? Treating me like that just because?!”

“N-no! That’s not it!”

“Then what is it?!”

He froze in place, his mouth hanging agape like he was choking on the unsaid words. You could tell he was nearly opening up to you, but still stubbornly refusing to do so. “Then what is it, Rafayel?”

“N-nothing, forget it.” He insisted, averting his gaze. “I… I think I will go take a bath an- w-woah!”

“Nuh uh,” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down into the couch before he could stand on his feet again, “you’re not going anywhere until we solve this mess.”

“T-there is no mess to solve! It’s all right, ok? Let go!” He cried, shaking his arm, but your hand seemed to be glued to his wrist. You crawled closer to him, making him lean away in hesitation - or fear, one of those.

“I will let go if you tell me what’s wrong.” You weren't going to back down, not when you had him right there. You both were adults and both should know that talking things out is the best way to come to peace with them. “Speak, Rafayel.”

“I-I don’t wanna!” He hissed, already leaning on his side and probably considering the idea of kicking you off the couch. Well, no one can say you didn’t try to solve this like an adult. “H-hey, what are you- ahH!”

With a swift, quick move, you pushed the wrist inside your grip up and pinned it against the couch. Before he could squirm or run away, you straddled his thighs, using your own weight to keep them in place. A strong shade of red started to taint Rafayel’s skin - from his neck up to the tip of his ears - and he looked back and forth between your hand, your face and your body.

“W-what are you doing?!”

“Trying to solve our problems like a kid, since you don’t want to do it like adults do.”

Those words only started to make sense to Rafayel when you got into action. Your free hand quickly assaulted his exposed underarm with rapid, aimless tickles, scratching and tracing random shapes over the clothed skin. 

While you couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head, you could always count on how ticklish Rafayel was to get him to do what you wanted - most of the time, at least. You grinned down at his dumb, desperate smile while you shifted your attention to his ribs, your fingers drumming at them like they were some sort of instrument.

“S-StahAHAhahp ihihit!” He whined, arching his back and pressing his head into the couch. He swatted at your hand with his free one, but it wasn’t close to enough to make you stop. “Gehehet ohohoff me n-now! Or I wihill be vehery angr- aHAHA W-WAHAHaahait!! Nohohot thehEHEhere! PleHEHease! ~”

“Only if you want to talk about it, Rafayel,” you said with minimal-to-no-effort in making your words clear through the laughter echoing in his living room. Still, something about him whining under your fingers made you believe that the message was successfully delivered.

Seconds went by and Rafayel remained silent - silent as in not talking, because he was sure being loud. “Well, suit yourself,” you hummed teasingly, latching your hand onto his hip and letting your thumb drill into the sensitive spot.

Rafayel thrashed his head, his cheeks getting redder from a mix of laughter, anger and embarrassment. He squirmed and wriggled his body as much as he could, moving like a worm in a hook while you continued to pinch and squeeze his hip. “AhAHAHah, q-quihIhihit it, meheheanie!”

“Are you going to talk to me if I do?”

“I-I sahAHAhaid I don’t w-wahahanna tahAHAhalk!!”

“Then keep laughing, at least you’re not frowning at me like this,” you groaned, slapping that pesky hand that tried to protect him away and letting all your frustration out as a merciless, restless tickle assault.

You pressed down at his pinned wrist, making sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and raked your nails around Rafayel’s stomach, clawing just below the belly button, then spidering your fingers up and down his sides. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how weak his tugging at your arm was, drained of any strength to actually pry the assaulting hand away. He was struggling.

“I know you can’t take much more,” you teased, rapidly poking around his abdomen over and over, pinpointing one nerve at the other, “and so do you, right?”

“I-I hahAHahate yohohou!” He cried dramatically and, while part of you decided to tickle him to death and put him out of his misery, you opted for the peaceful approach and gave him another chance. “Y-yohou ahare t-the wohorst bodyguard! In t-the whole world!”

“And because of that you decided to mistreat me all day? Because I suck at being your bodyguard?” You scoffed, sitting back on his lap and crossing your arms.

But while this all seemed like a senseless and light matter to you now, your words acted like fuel to the fire inside him. You could see something inside him snap as he clenched his jaw, his breathing sharpening for a moment.

“No, you- you dumbhead! Because you do this to everyone!” He gasped, panting for a second before his lips turned into a pout. “I- I saw you with your- ugh, your coworker today. I  thought I was special, but I’m just another one to you…”

What.

You couldn’t even hold your pose as something beyond confusion struck your brain like thunder in a roaring storm. “I do… this to everyone..?” You repeated to yourself, trying to find some sense in those words. Did what, exactly?

You looked down, to him and then to your hands that were hanging near your body. Then it dawned on you: the reason behind his attitude, his anger. He was “...jealous? Because I… tickled my friend?” You muttered, your voice tainted with uncertainty.

Any doubts, however, vanished when you saw Rafayel’s face lighting up in red like a firework exploding in the sky. 

His lips quivered, trembled, and even as strangled noises made it past his throat, no actual words came out. He was stunned, baffled by your conclusion and, worse, by his own demands. Rafayel realized a tad too late what he had done, to what kind of thought he gave voice, and he couldn’t even start to think of a way to deal with the consequences.

While you, on the other hand, couldn’t tell what happened inside his head, his face told you everything you needed to know and more, like an open book just before your eyes. “Did I guess it right?” You broke the awkward silence and saw the moment a shiver ran up his spine like a wave crashing against the coast.

“N-no!” He cried, pawing at your legs while you let your weight sit on his lap. He kicked his feet behind you, throwing a little tantrum while rambling something about being misunderstood. “You g-got it totally wrong! I-It’s all wrong!”

“Is that so? Then what did you mean by that, then?” You grinned down at him, finally connecting all the pieces of a whole evening getting the silent treatment. To think he would feel jealous of Tara of all people - how amusing. “Are you saying I did something indecent with my coworker? Implying that I’m a chea-”

“That’s not it either, you- ugh, you’re such a thickhead at times!” He laid back, dramatically gasping and then pressing both hands over his face, almost as if to try to hide it. “How come you solve crimes and I still need to explain everything to you?”

“But you don’t,” you grabbed both his wrists, forcing them to the side and off your way. You towered over him, pinning his hands by the sides of his head staring straight into his eyes. “I have you figured out, Rafayel.”

“...You totally don’t,” he puffed out his cheeks, still trying to play it in denial.

“I totally do, though. My little fishie wants to be tickled, right?” You chuckled, letting go of one of his hands to trace his jawline with your index finger.

“Y-you’re wrong! Awfully wrong!” He gasped after leaving his mouth hanging for a second or two. You could see his muscles tensing, yearning, anticipating something. He pressed his lips into a thin line and clenched his hands into fists, keeping them still at where you left them.

Well… “heh,” you scoffed, your hands moving to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze as if to ease the tension, “don’t worry, I get it now.”

“You don’t get it at ahAH- AHaha, w-wahAHAIT!! I wahAHAhasn’t reheheady!” Rafayel laughed, he crumbled into a hot mess of giggles and squeals before he could even take notice of what you were doing or of what was happening around him.

You nestled your hands by the sides of his chest, digging and tickling each and every single one of his ribs as thoroughly as possible, playing with every inch of skin you couch told and milking every cackle out of his throat. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to do much”, you hummed, seeing him arch his back with a renewed fit of laughter as you switched to his sides, “just keep looking cute and laughing for me, yes?”

Rafayel whined, shaking his head left and right, but you couldn’t really hear a protest coming from his mouth, only that sweet, melodic laughter with a pinch of desperation. You smiled down, allowing him to hold onto your wrists while you tickled his stomach and hips, alternating between them from time to time.

You wiggled your fingers over the thin, delicate shirt and it was just enough to make him giggle; you pressed and poked one of the wrinkles caused by his squirming and he would flail his arms and legs; and when all this moving around riled up his shirt, you scratched the revealed skin, making the cutest sounds burst out of him.

He pulled at your hands, his shaky fingers closing around your wrists or around your palm in a vain attempt of being at least an obstacle in your way. Rafayel flashed you with a wide, panicked grin as he watched your hands sneak back under his arms before he threw his head back into the couch. You could see his chest waving, the deep gasps to let air fill his lungs before burning all that stored-up energy into cries full of mirth. What a sight to behold.

You couldn’t help but find yourself lost at the mesmerizing sight, intoxicated by his laughter, by the sound of his pleas, by the feeling of his hands clinging to you and the squirming of his body under you. 

His hair was already sticking to his forehead and some damp spots were starting to appear in his shirt - around his chest, shoulders, down to his sides and even some under his arm, where your hands would travel back from time to time to tickle him again. Rafayel was starting to look at a mess but, at the same time, this was the prettiest he ever looked to you.

“Stop fighting it,” you said playfully, as if he ever succeeded in putting up a battle against you, as if he ever stood a chance in your game, “you clearly won’t be able to take it if I have to tie you up.”

He whined again, but soon continued to laugh like a helpless idiot. Something about having him like this was mixing up the wires inside your brain, making the gears in your head turn rapidly. You knew you promised that you’d give it to him to his heart’s content, but if this went on for much longer, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop yourself.

Rafayel was just a pillow princess at this point. He laid back on the couch, holding onto your hands with just enough strength to pick up a sheet of paper, and let you do all the hard work while he laughed. He laughed, laughed and laughed even more. You wondered what could be going on inside his head or if there was anything happening in there at all.

But the one thing you did know was that… he looked happy. “Had enough yet, baby?” You sighed, watching the dazed, lost look on his face as if you had shut off his brain somehow. “Are you feeling ok?”

He giggled, wasted. It took him three to five business days to lower his head and look up at your face. Your hands rested on top of his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his hardworking heart that seemed to be just about to explode. Well, he certainly did look like he was doing fine, you thought. And so were you, after all, his heart was beating like that for you, because of you. 

You smiled, leaning closer and closer until the tip of your nose brushed against his. You nuzzled against his cheek before dragged your lips over Rafayel’s, kissing it briefly as you muttered your words. “I’m sorry, Rafayel, I think I now understand how you feel,” you gasped, kissing him again.

He let out a small, confused groan into your mouth. His hands weakly pushed at your shoulder while he turned his head to the side to try to dislodge out of your kiss and breathe again. He looked at you with the corner of his eyes, expectation gleaming inside them.

“I will only tickle you for now on, ok? You won’t have to share it with anyone else ever again, fishie,” you giggled, your face inches away from his before you leaned in again to steal another kiss.

“N-not… just tickling,” he gasped, his chin pressing down towards his chest as he looked at you with puppy-like eyes, “anything special… I want to be the only one to do those with you.”

“You have my word,” you nodded, laying your head on his shoulder and somehow getting your arms around him to pull Rafayel into a hug. “Are you still mad at me?”

“No… not anymore,” he chuckled, letting out a content sigh as his body was finally able to catch some rest. That would be the start of a long, but precious weekend.

[rex101111]

Things that happen within the first few hours of AC6:

1. You get shot with a huge-ass laser mid-atmosphere entry. You barely survive this, landing several miles away from your intended landing zone.  Welcome to Rubicon 3.

2. You have a mech built with bargain bin parts, barely held together with hope and spite. It has a energy sword though, so that’s nice.

3. Not even two seconds after your, very rough, landing, you get a call from your “Handler”. He is ostensibly in charge of your well-being. This begins and ends with him sending you off on missions he’s fairly certain you’ll survive and charges you for the damage you get to your mech, the bullets you use, and he’s also cut out a piece of your brain to put in augmentations that will make you a slightly better mech pilot. In the top Most Horrible People On This Planet contest, he wouldn’t make it to the top 10.

4. You make your way through a derelict hunk of junk that’s threatening to collapse on top of you. Not even two minutes into this journey, you’re getting shot at with missiles. 

5. You finally reach your intended destination, a burning husk of a city filled with scavengers and low lives who will shoot you on sight. You are here to grave rob.

6. The reason you are grave robbing is connected to the fact you got shot in orbit, you are here illegally, and you need to find a license from any fresh corpse so you can steal the identity on it and be able to do mercenary work.

7. You go through four corpses before you find one with a license that can pass muster.

8. Mid corpse robbing a gunship sent by The Space Police spots you and you have to shot it down so it can’t kill you or, even worse, stop you from stealing the identity you just found. 

9. As soon as you get registered in the Mercenary Rolodex, which takes less then a second of an A.I taking a look and saying “alright checks out”, you have two missions. One of them has you killing a bunch of resistance fighters from the planet’s native population on behalf of a weapons company that really wants to do business here. 10. The next mission has you going to a base owned by that very same company and blowing up everything you can find there. This does not anger that company one bit, if anything it just convinces them you are a very thorough worker. 11. Very shortly after that, you are tasked with destroying a prototype mech by another company before it can get into mass production. That mech is being piloted by what can only be described as an Anime Protag who is in the worst possible franchise for his type of character. You can murder him in less then two minutes if you know what you’re doing. You can hear him desperately fight for his life the entire time. 12. After that, before you even get to clean the blood and oil and broken dreams off your robot, you get a call from a merc group leader saying that he’s seen you murder that guy real good, a guy who was auditioning to join his group, and likes the cut of your jib. He gives you the callsign he was gonna give Anime Protag before you blew him the fuck up. He laughs and tells you to be careful since it’s an unlucky number. This is the least morally repugnant thing you’ll do all game.   

13. A while after that, you go into a power plant and destroy the generator, it promptly blasts you in the face with the red radioactive Super Fuel that toasted this planet a few years back.

14. You survive, somehow, and you get a disembodied voice of some girl in your ear. You tell your handler about this and he just shrugs it off with “oh yeah that’s probably a symptom of the lobotomy, don’t worry about it”. The voice is probably the most moral person on this fire blasted hell scape of a planet.

[minisugakoobies]

It's You - Choi San | 3 AM

Pairing: San x Reader Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU Series Rating: M (18+) Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby) Word Count: 2.1k Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me

Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?

A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱

Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.

Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕

It’s You Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈‍⬛ Main Masterlist

It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career. 

There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.

“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.” 

San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes. 

“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!” 

“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you. 

“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.” 

With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff. 

You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.

“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head. 

It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this. 

But he can’t sleep here. 

“San. San, are you awake?” 

“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.

“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!” 

San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to. 

“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.” 

You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.

It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.

San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.” 

He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing. 

“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…” 

“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it. 

“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”

“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!” 

This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.

Like when you need to kick him out of your bed. 

He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy. 

So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.

His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober. 

And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you. 

If you reach that point. 

“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks.  “I like kissing you.” 

You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.” 

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same. 

“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.” 

“Then what time is it?”

Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him. 

“It’s time for you to go to bed.” 

“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again. 

“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on. 

But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.

“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!” 

San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?” 

Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since. 

Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.

Doesn’t mean you like it, though. 

“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “

The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom. 

“Noona.” 

You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again. 

“She’s in early today, right?” 

The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.

“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.” 

He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?

Yeah, that’s probably it. 

“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.

“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?” 

And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance. 

“Okay.”

San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.

“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly. 

“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.

“Right, none of that.”

“Just cuddles?” 

As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding. 

“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.” 

Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t. 

You’re feeling suddenly inspired. 

(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch

© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[vcaart]

...

Do you wanna die?

(NOTE: Starry Belief IS going to be posted soon, I just didn't know how to include them both in the same post without making it super busy)

(More on Sanguine below :3):

Sanguine is supposedly excellent at taking care of fouls, despite her icy and threatening demeanor. Her cutie mark confirms this, right? Her talent never ceased to baffle ponies, confused about how somepony so cold could be could with fouls. Though, not much is known about her. She rarely talks about herself without an air of secrecy around her, making most of her classmates wary around her. (Emphasis on most.)

Sanguine was orphaned in the Frozen North, just outside the Crystal Empire, at a young age. She was promptly taken in by a nearby orphanage, and was raised there most of her life. Strangely enough, despite being so young, she had already earned her cutie mark. Apparently having earned a talent for caring for fouls, much like a babysitter or a daycare worker. The caregivers and workers at the orphanage soon began using the young filly's talent to good use, having her help with the other orphans and watch over them. They stuck to Sanguine like glue, and while she herself wasn't happy about it the fouls younger than her absolutely adored her. There was one other pony at the orphanage that Sanguine truly got along with, a girl around her age. They would stay up talking late into the night, baking and exchanging sweets, even playing house with the other fouls.

One day, a group of ponies came in look around and even watched all the children play. In truth, they were apart of a group called "The Holy Salvation Society," a group who sought to steal and destroy the Crystal Heart one way or another.

Sanguine knew from the start she was part umbrum, she knew that her parents abandoned her to send her on a mission, a mission to free the umbrum herself. That was her objective the moment she was left outside the Crystal Empire. The Holy Salvation Society were the ones supposed to find her, though, and she had almost forgotten about why she was there in the first place. It was only about time they had located her.

Sanguine was ripped from her life in the orphanage, and immediately put into training with other ponies around her age. Taught how to properly use her abilities, how to destroy the heart, how to kill other ponies if need be.

It wasn't until Sanguine had failed her mission to destroy the heart, being deemed a failure to the society and to umbrum-kind, that she practically vanished into thin air. She sought refuge far away from the Frozen North, and filled out an application under a false name for the princess's School of Friendship to try and hide away from the Holy Salvation Society.

When she and her classmates are tasked with stealing the Elements of Harmony, she intended to steal them and be done with it. She didn't actually have a cutie mark, and she didn't want to know what would happen to her if her secret was exposed. It's only when one her classmates takes a chance on her she has a change of heart, and finally helps stop the traitor in their midst.

In the final standoff between the class and the power hungry (now) alicorns, Hazy Light (with the help of his friends) bring the Elements of Harmony together to end things once and for all.

Sanguine is given the Element of Loyalty! (I didn't draw anything for this, sorry :,>)

---

The lineup so far! Starry isn't blocked out cause I'll be posting him later, Sanguine just has too much going on for them to be in the same post lol.

Also sorry if Sanguine's backstory is all janky, I had to tweak her backstory a lot for it to fit into this AU and also figure out how to properly fit it in tp the pony universe lol.

[pixelshiftexe]

In a modern universe, Cersei Lannister would get sent to one of those fancy private rehabs/psych hospitals (she doesn't want to go but Jaime booked her in after her latest breakdown and convinces her that actually it's super trendy these days for rich white women to go on "mental health retreats") and immediately tries to convince her psych team that she's totally fine and actually doesn't need to be here only to promptly be diagnosed with Bipolar and put on an ungodly amount of Seroquel.

Every single meeting she's forced to attend, she sits in her chair huffing up a storm while everyone else speaks, and when it's her turn goes on a fifteen minute rant alternating between insisting that everything wrong with her isn't actually her fault, insulting everyone else at the meeting because can't BELIEVE people actually fall for this psychobabble therapy nonsense, and sobbing uncontrollably over how her life has turned out.

After she's done she goes back to ignoring everyone.

Would absolutely look down on the people in there for narcotic addictions despite the fact that she's spent roughly the equivalent of the GDP of a small country on cocaine over the years.

Also freely admits to her therapist to having had an incestuous relationship with Jaime during childhood and adolescence but insists it doesn't matter anymore because they "grew out of it" after Jaime went to military school and she realised it would've been social suicide for her modelling career if anyone got photos of them together while she was dating various other celebrity guys, and remains completely oblivious to the ongoing emotional incest and codependency that's running through her entire family.

She emphatically insists that the only problem with Tywin's parenting was that he didn't send Tyrion away at birth and that he got Jaime a spot at Harvard Business School even though he didn't actually WANT to go and SHE did.

If this sounds like I'm bashing her, I promise I'm not. These are simply things I know to be true.

[tsams-and-co-memes]

@darthhopehay tagging you because this was your suggestion

I picked a random spot in that episode and ran with it, and inserted my guy Flare (link contains an image of him with his glow up paint job), because why not. This is my attempt at getting back into writing, so it might be a little clunky, but eh. If you wanna see his OG look, you can look here

Blurb under the cut, because I don't think it'd be great to make a super ultra mega long post and make it so that everyone has to scroll 5 miles to get past it

"Ugh, loud baby noises! Listen, I'm just here getting my sugar!"

Moon stared up at Lunar, momentarily baffled. "You what?"

On the other side of Lunar, Sun curled his tiny, now toddler sized hands into fists. "This motherf—"

A sharp squeal pierced the air and Lunar blinked, abruptly stopping what he'd been doing and stepping back to look at Sun. "....Why do I get the feeling that I was just cursed at?"

Sun's discontented baby sounds continued, and Lunar let out a heavy sigh. "You know, whatever Moon did, he did a good job getting Sun's energy right, 'cuz this one has just a lot of hostility, and it feels like a lot of cursing is coming out of it."

Both babies began to babble at the same time and Lunar makes a face, not happy with the situation he's found himself in; small children, he could handle. Babies? Not so much. He watched for a moment as the two babies that looked suspiciously similar to his elder brothers began to chatter and coo to each other, then rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the cabinet he'd been digging around in, determined to find the numerous Reeses peanut butter cups he'd stashed there. Everything was as normal as he'd expect, all things considered.... and then Moon climbed up onto the countertop and snatched the jar of peanut-free peanut butter.

He stepped back, his confusion palpable. ".....I don't understand how that child just climbed up the counter. Ok then."

Moon hopped down from the counter as carefully as his baby body would allow, then uncapped the jar of peanut butter and stuffed his hand inside it, very messily beginning to write one letter at a time across the cupboards. Lunar stood back, a brow raised as he waited to see what was written. "C... A... LL... M.. ON... TY. Call Monty? Why would I—is that actually both of you?"

The pair of babies immediately squealed in response, and Sun picked up the discarded jar of peanut butter, angrily throwing it at Lunar. Lunar stepped to the side, concern written all over his face as Sun continued screeching. "Oh god, ok, I'm assuming you're screaming at me, but I can't tell. I'm gonna call Monty."

Lunar picked up the jar of peanut butter, placing it back onto the kitchen island before dialing Monty's number. It rang once... twice... three times... then a fourth, and then promptly went right to voice mail, much to no one's surprise.

Not bothering to leave a message, Lunar hung up and sighed heavily. "Ok, I called Monty, but it went to voice mail. I'm not sure what you want me to do here."

"Oh, you've GOT to be kidding me." Moon's expression soured. "Of all the times for them to ignore their phone, why now?!"

Sun let out a string of angry obscenities, his rays flattening in distress. Dazzle was the only one home currently, and she was the last person he'd ever want to find out that he and Moon had been turned into babies.

Lunar lifted his hands, forcing an awkward, apologetic smile. "I'll wait a bit and then try again, ok? Monty's probably busy right now; I'm sure it's not a huge deal. We'll figure this out, I promise."

Sun screeched, picking up the lid to the jar of peanut butter and throwing it at Lunar, only succeeding in bouncing it off of Lunar's leg. Lunar picked up the lid, opting to look anywhere but at his brothers as he screwed it back onto the jar. He didn't need to understand them to know they were less than happy, and he could feel it every time they looked at him. Part of him wondered what he should do; they were his brothers, so they knew how to do things and take care of themselves, and they'd likely be peeved if he tried to help them. At the same time, though, they were small and significantly weaker than normal. There were things they were going to need help with, regardless of if they wanted it or not. Solar was out, so he wouldn't be able to help with this, and Monty was preoccupied doing....... Monty things, so they weren't available at the moment, either. Lunar considered calling Earth, but it'd been one of her bad days, and she was likely in bed resting. Lunar felt bad for even entertaining the idea of bothering her, so he decided that she also wasn't an option.

That left only one person in the immediate family. Flare.

Lunar attempted to call Monty again, but when it went to voice mail, he sighed. Yep. Flare was the only other option.

He dialed Flare's number, and after the first couple of rings, Flare answered, his voice as flat and unenthusiastic as ever. "Hello?"

Lunar smiled awkwardly. "Heeeeeeey, uh... we have a problem. I'm at Sun and Moon’s house, and I'm gonna need your help."

There was a pause before Flare responded, a hint of concern in his tone. "What kind of problem? Is everything ok?"

Lunar's gaze flicked over to Sun and Moon. Sun was sitting on the floor, giving the thousand-mile stare as his rays drooped, and Moon was anxiously pacing back and forth, cooing to himself. Lunar cleared his throat. "Uh, well... no one's hurt, but there's another issue. I have no idea how it happened, but Sun and Moon got turned into babies."

On his end of the call, Flare's brows lifted, and he made a face. "They what?"

"Got turned into babies. I'll send you a picture, lemme just—" There was a pause as Lunar snapped a photo of Sun and Moon and sent it to Flare.

Flare opened the image and looked at it, silent for a few seconds, before he seemingly made a decision. "I'll be right over. Don't let them out of your sight."

Lunar nodded. "Got it. The door should be unlocked, so you can just walk on in."

The call wrapped up, and Lunar turned his attention to his brothers, sighing softly. "Ok, so I did get someone's help, but it's not Monty."

Sun and Moon both looked up at Lunar, and Lunar continued. "Since Monty’s not picking up the phone, I called Flare. He's on his way now. Maybe he can help you guys get to Moon's lab or something, so this can be reverted."

Sun's small body tensed up, and Moon felt an immediate sense of dread. It's not that they disliked Flare. On the contrary, they thought he was a good guy. A lot of his actions and behavior were still dictated by programming and protocols, though. This meant that while he was definitely someone who'd keep them safe until they went back to normal, he was also likely to be a helicopter sibling.

Lunar herded both babies to the living room, and within minutes, Flare arrived, letting himself into the house. As he entered the living room area and spotted Sun and Moon, he immediately found himself locked into a staring contest with them, his expression blank aside from the way his brows shot up in surprise. Not taking his eyes off of them, he spoke. "....So this is what we're dealing with. Interesting."

Sun began to walk away, but Lunar blocked his path, chuckling awkwardly and very pointedly ignoring the way Sun made a series of angry baby noises at him. "Yeah... yeah, this is it."

Sun's angry babbling came to an immediate halt as he was scooped up by Flare, and he stared at Flare with wide eyes. "Flare, I'm about to lose my goddamn mind. Please, for the love of god, put me down."

Only hearing cooing sounds, Flare let out a soft huff and tilted his head, his rays slowly spinning and almost mimicking a buffering circle. A barely perceptible smile tugged at the corner of Flare's lips, and he did the exact opposite of what Sun wanted; he followed his programming and held Sun closer, one arm underneath Sun and supporting him there, while the other hand rested on Sun's back. Sun's rays shrank, and he felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. The swirls within Flare's rays slowly went between being dimmer and brighter, and his entire demeanor softened.

Seeing the position Sun was in, Moon tried unsuccessfully to bite back a snicker. ".....How's the cuddling, Sun? You comfy?"

Sun immediately narrowed his eyes and glared at Moon. "Shut the hell up. Don't even talk to me."

Lunar and Flare watched intently as the babies babbled back and forth to each other, and Lunar couldn't help but chuckle, seeing the look on Sun's face. "Well someone's not very happy."

Flare huffed, his smile widening ever so slightly. "No, I would think not." He paused, then let out a soft sigh. "Are we taking them to Moon's lab then, or?...."

Lunar scrunched up his face, looking back and forth between Sun and Moon thoughtfully. "Mmmn..... we should, but I feel like we should do something else first."

Flare glanced down at Lunar, unbothered as Sun squirmed and attempted to wiggle out of his arms. "Such as?"

Lunar made sure to meet Moon's gaze, then Sun's, before he gave an impish grin. "I think Earth should see them. It's been a rough day for her, so this might help cheer her up."

Sun and Moon immediately began to screech in protest, and Flare arched an eyebrow in amusement. "You might be right, Lunar." He paused, then added, "What about Dazzle? I'm assuming she's asleep right now, and we shouldn't wake her up or leave her here alone."

Lunar made a sound in acknowledgment, shrugging his shoulders. "I'll stay here and keep an eye on things, in case she wakes up. You're the baby magnet; I'm sure you could manage a trip to Monty and Earth's place by yourself."

Flare sighed and shook his head, still smiling slightly to himself. "I suppose so. Try not to burn the house down while we're gone, ok? Sun would be pissed."

Lunar couldn't help but snicker. "Yeah, yeah, I know. If I can help it, I won't destroy anything."

Flare shifted Sun in his arms and then began to approach Moon. Moon began to back away, his head craned back to look up at Flare. "....Pick me up and I'll fight you.”

Without hesitation, Flare scooped Moon up despite the warning and hummed. "Knowing you, you just threatened me. Am I right?"

Moon screeched, smacking Flare's face with his tiny hands and squirming as much as possible, and Flare sighed again. He shifted both babies in his hold, making sure they were secure, and then began to walk toward the door. "Alright, we're off, Lunar."

"Ok, have fun. Let me know how Earth and Monty react to Sun and Moon." Lunar grinned, watching as Flare made for the exit.

Just as he was about to reach the front door, Moon's tiny hands plopped right over his eyes, and he paused. "Moon, unless you want me to accidentally drop you and Sun on your heads, you probably shouldn't do that. Move your hands, please."

Moon stubbornly refused, keeping his hands in place, and Flare raised an eyebrow. "I'll make it up to you and Sun once this is all sorted out and you're back to normal, I promise. I'm only taking you to see Earth because it'll make her happy. Do you really want to deprive her of happiness after how much pain she's been in today?"

There was some hesitation, before Moon reluctantly moved his hands, grumbling unhappily under his breath. "....Oh, you stupid, no good, manipulative twink. There will be payback for this, so help me god."

[your-friendly-sociopath]

Part two was so good I’m invested I need to know how it ends please make part three to running when you have the time!

Sincerely 🕷anon

You bet part 1 , 2

Channeling my inner demons for this one

Red text is alastors pov/dialogue

Slanted red is when he is mentioned or refered to

Tw: yandere themes, possessive behavior, slight PTSD, reader got issues, so does alastor really

Running Pt 3

A week had passed since your leg had been chopped off

It was weird, getting up every morning only to fall in your face immediately

You were right about your father leaving his shadow on you

You swear every time you fell each morning, it would laugh at you

This morning was no different

You woke up, sat up, went to stand on the side of your bed, and promptly fell flat on your face

The shadow in the corner made a strange hissing sound

Which you had now come to identify as laughter

Grumbling, you flipped off the shadow as you, shakily, got to your feet

Well, foot

You figured that the only good thing to come out of all of this, was that your remaining leg would be super beefy from carrying all your wait

You hopped over to the bathroom connected to your room, and did your business

When you reentered your room, you noticed alastor sitting on a lavish armchair in the corner by your bed, sipping a dark red liquid (blood, most likely) and reading a book

You had half a mind to just close the door and hide in the bathroom

You did that the first morning after your leg was sawed off, he didn't take to kindly to being ignored so rudely

Instead, you let out a grumpy sigh, and hobbled over to the edge of your bed, waiting for him to notice you

Or to decide to grant you the honor of his attention

He did this every morning

Let you fall in your face, use the bathroom, then appear out of fucking nowhere and wait for you in your room

After that he either got your wheelchair and took you to the kitchen, it would just let you stew in your anger for ten or so more minutes while he read

Both options were a little awkward for you

Seemed like this morning, he found himself content with simply letting you be while he read

You were not in the mood to just sit here

The fucking prick

Instead of putting up with his bullshit, you decided to rush things along

So, you loudly cleared your throat to get his attention

Apparently, he wasn't in the mood for your attitude

Out of nowhere there was a loud static pop, which, admittedly made you jump a little

You could feel your large furry ears go stiff at the obvious warning

Your spine went ridged, and suddenly, memories of the last time he was displeased with you came rushing back

The blood soaked table

The horrific voodoo symbols that surrounded you, preventing you from moving

And the dark..

You wanted to run

To leave, and never have to set eyes on the monster behind you ever again

But it was running that got you into this shit

Running

You'll never be able to run again

He had done something to your leg, weird voodoo symbols engraved in the skin that prevented it from regenerating

You'd never walk again

You were dependent on him, much as you hated to admit it

A creak in the furniture from behind you told you that he was getting up

You flinched, involuntarily, when you felt him lay a clawed hand on your shoulder

"Well my dear, Id say that's enough dilly dalling for today! Why don't we get some breakfast hm?"

You couldn't respond, at least not verbally, so you opted to nod instead

The hand on your shoulder gave you a warning squeeze

Right, you forgot, he hated it when you didn't use your words

"..kay.."

You mumbled

It was the best you could do

----

You used to be so defiant, so fiery

Not that it wasn't a nice change of pace for him, but he did miss your spunky additude and witty remarks

But ever since he had cut off your left leg, you were so quiet and meek

A part of him hated how he had to resort to such drastic measures, while another part was pleased that you were finally in your place

He knew you probably hated him for doing this, but he had no choice

At least, it seemed like that to him

You needed to learn that fighting back and running would only get you in more trouble

A shame though, how it took him needing to physically, mentally, and permanently damage you to get you to listen

He doesn't regret it though, this way, you'll always need him

Forever

----

Weeks went by, then months

The cycle never ends

Except for the falling on your face part, you've broken the habit of getting up then falling down immediately

A relief for you, a disappointment for the shadow that was always watching you

Life (or death) had become boring and mundane

There wasn't much you could do now without assistance

Alastor refused to give you a prosthetic, and your wheelchair only came into use when he wasn't around

And he wasn't around as often anymore

Apparently he had found a new source of entertainment

Which involved a strange hotel ran by a demon determined to rehabilitate sinners

So now, you spent most your days alone in the cabin/mansion/house

You had become a master of hobbling around on one leg

Unfortunately, the house was not "baby" proof, and you found yourself with an assortment of bruises at the end of every day

And thus a new cycle began, every day you'd wake up, your father sitting in the corner of your room, then take you to the kitchen for breakfast before leaving you on your own

It was kind of nice, having your own space again

Yet it was still so incredibly boring

Luckily for you, your father soon decided to introduce you to the demons of the hotel we often went to (you later found out it was called the Happy Hotel)

The only demons you knew there were Husk and Nifty, though you immediately hit it off with a spider demon (PLATONIC)

You started going daily with Alastor to the Happy Hotel

He even got you a prosthetic limb for your visits

(The moment you tried to escape though, it would morph into a ball and chains and trap you)

Even if you weren't exactly free, you weren't alone anymore

And for that, you were grateful

If only you could shake off the feeling of dread, like all these good things would soon come to an end

And done, once more ot 4 is a possibility

Not anytime soon tho cus j have a few asks I need to work on/finish

[muddyorbsblr]

slipping between future and past [SAS secret santa 2023]

View the full SAS Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You give your friend a few pointers on what to know about Yule, and come across a familiar looking stranger in your bookstore.

Pairing: Loki x Reader/OC Talia Williams

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, please leave I'm asking nicely); unprotected p in v sex; cunnilingus; magical restraints; language; possibly wonky interpretation of time travel & timeslipping; possibly wonky understanding of Yule [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; still written in 2nd Person POV like my other 'x Reader' stories, but this time Reader has a name and it's "Talia Williams"; this is a secret santa request for @acidcasualties

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "the feel of your hands being brought" and ends at "as he marked your skin"

It was uncharacteristically slow today in the bookstore, barely a handful of people walking in, browsing for a few minutes, and then promptly exiting when they see that you didn't carry the middle school dystopia book series all the kids were raving over. It was a colossal waste of their time and yours, considering there would have been less effort had they just taken even a cursory look at the sign by the door.

You didn't carry children's books. Classics, Myths, and Romance only.

Of the number of people that walked through the doors that you could count on your two hands, you could only count those that actually made a purchase with one. Half of one.

The sound of the door chimes brought your attention to the entrance again, seeing your friend Ariadne bounding into the front area of the store with a frantic look in her eye. "Talia," she panted, headed straight for you. "Babes, I need your help. Are you busy? You got a customer back there?"

"Nope. Just me," you called out, stepping out from behind the counter. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

"Okay so…you know that guy I'm seeing?"

"Uhh…I think so? Lee, right?"

"Leif. Think trees, Babes. Anyways, he wants me to meet his family and apparently they're super into the ancient Norse traditions, so I need a crash course on how they celebrate Christmas." She paced back and forth by the table that held the New York Times bestsellers that you did hold stock for, picking up a copy of the stalker dark romance duology. "His sister likes to read, you think she'll appreciate this?"

You immediately rushed over to her, grabbing the book and nearly slamming it back down on the stack. "You gotta let them crawl before they walk. Let alone sprint," you explained, giving her Beautiful Bastard instead. "This should be a good enough in between, just in case she's not into guns being shoved up anyone's vagina--"

Up where?! she shrieked, grabbing the first book again, along with the sequel and the book you were handing her. "Okay I'll take that for his sister, and these two for me."

"This is exactly why we're friends," you quipped, ringing up her order. "Now about that other thing…you do know that just because I own a bookshop, it doesn't mean that I know everything about everything, right?"

She rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, but I also know that you live for all these myths and folk tales, so I bet you know a thing or two about Viking Christmas."

"Alright fine. Find a chair and settle in," you said with an overly dramatic wave of your hand. "First things first, it's not called 'Viking Christmas', it's called 'Yule'. Immediately if you wanna get on his family's good side, you say Good Yule because it shows that you did at least a customary Google search before you stepped foot on their property." You handed her a small notepad and a pencil. "You're gonna wanna write this down."

When her scribbling down stopped, she perked up with a question. "Do they have a Santa Claus?"

"Yes and no," you answered her, prepping two cups of coffee and handing one over to her before plopping down on your own seat in the reading nook, your favorite one in the entire shop. "Santa Claus is what we call who the Brits refer to as 'Father Christmas'. The Brits got that from 'Yule Figure' from the Viking mythology and Mr Yule Figure himself is...Odin."

"Wait wait hold up." She shot up her hand like a kid asking questions in class. "So Odin is Santa? He goes around little Viking kiddies' neighborhoods and slides down the chimney to give them wooden axes and swords?"

"Hmmm not quite. The whole making a list and checking it twice to give the good little boys and girls presents on Christmas is...not quite how the Vikings do it. Instead they engage in something called the Wild Hunt, where Odin aka Big Yule Father Kahuna calls on his posse of gods and plays a game of non-consensual hide and seek with the living souls. So us being the 'living mortals', we have to find a safe enough hiding place that Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse gods don't find us, because if they do…they drag us to the Underworld."

"Okay first of all, yikes." Ariadne made a big show of shuddering in her seat over what you just told her. "Can't it be something a little bit less morbid? Like if Thor finds you he drags you to his den of iniquity and has his wicked way with you?"

"I mean it's all myths and folklore anyway," you shot back with a small shrug as you finished off your coffee. "So maybe when the big girls are off in their own corner, we can smut it up and pretend that if someone other than Odin finds us, we can get some happy fun times." You both broke out into giggles at your wording. "And when we're telling the story to the smaller kiddos, we say that the gods only go after the naughty kids. Keep with the spirit of Christmas and all that." You wagged a finger in her direction, giving her another suggestion. "Or in the case of meeting Leif's family, just think which one's gonna have him more devastated, your soul getting dragged into the Underworld or your body getting dragged to Thor's man cave."

She wrote down some more notes on her little notepad before standing up, brimming with excitement. "Okay I think that's all I need. Hopefully…"

"Babes, you're there to meet the family, not get gatekeeper gamer boy levels of interrogated on what you know about Yule. As soon as you don't say 'Merry Viking Christmas', you're in the clear."

She squealed, rushing over to wrap her arms around you and give you a tight squeeze. "Thank you thank you! You just saved me from looking a total ditz meeting his family. I have a really good feeling about this one, you know?"

You gave her a squeeze back, happy that she was finally in a relationship that felt stable enough to start on that family she'd always wanted.

Maybe one day you could be so lucky with your own love life.

"I'm really happy for you, Aria. Let me know how it goes when you get back, okay?"

You worked on wrapping up the book she intended to gift Leif's sister as she asked you another question. "What about mistletoe? Do they have that in Yule?"

You scrunched her nose and shook your head at her question. "Yes and no again. Yes, they've assigned meaning to the plant but no, you don't kiss under it for fear of spending the next year all alone. They believe it to be a symbol for fertility, so it's been known for couples to hang it above their headboards so that their holiday fun times might lead to a child. It's also seen as a symbol for new life or resurrection because there's another folktale that says that Loki fashioned a weapon from the mistletoe plant to kill Baldur, and Frigga's tears turned the white berries red and resurrected her fallen son. Which if you ask me is a steaming pile of horse shit that's almost more ridiculous than how Siegfried was felled in the Nibelungenlied, but that's a story for another day."

"Hold up, but isn't Loki also a son of Frigga?"

You shrugged. "Who knows what's real and what's not at this point? These tales are thousands of years old. All we know right now is that Thor's real and he's friends with a billionaire that made a fancy iron suit and a soldier from the 40s that doesn't even look like he's hit his mid-20s. And that he dated an astrophysicist. Tell you what, if I ever meet him, I'll ask him myself. Maybe I'll even ask him what exactly goes down in the Wild Hunt if they still do it in this century."

"Ooh, if he walks into the store please text me?" You gave her a questioning look. "What? He's my hall pass. Leif knows all about it. Natasha Romanoff's his."

You handed her the gift-wrapped book. "Pinky promise, I'll tell you as soon as a 6'4 muscular Barbie looking dude from Asgard swinging a hammer and summoning thunder and lightning walks into my shop. Maybe I'll even text you if the Black Widow herself walks in so that Leif would owe a favor or two."

"Hey, it could happen," she quipped, sticking her tongue out at you like you were back in the sandbox. "We're in New York, after all. And Avengers Tower's just a ten minute walk away. You never know, you know?"

"Right," you breathed, waving her off as she neared the door. "Merry Yule."

"Merry Crisis," she shot back, blowing you a kiss as she stepped into the cold New York night.

You started cleaning the store so you could close up for the night when a new voice pierced through the quiet.

"I appreciate your refusal to believe that hokum about the mistletoe, darling. It warms my cold Jotun heart knowing that it's safe in your brilliant hands."

Large hands found themselves at your waist before your new visitor's arms wrapped around you from behind, your body going frigid at the action. "Who--?"

"Oh no..." He immediately released you from his hold, allowing you to come face to face with a towering man with onyx curls and a devastatingly handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. "I must have gone back too far this time." He took a step toward you, his hands twitching in your direction as if he wanted to go back to where he was just a few seconds ago. If you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't object. "Sweetheart, who am I to you?"

"What? This time?" You raised an eyebrow at him, confusion coating your words. "You trying to tell me we met before? Because trust me I'd remember meeting someone that looked like you."

"Who am I to you? What do you know of me?" he asked again, his brows upturned at the center of his forehead, his expression reminding you of a baby kitten pleading for affection.

"Not much," you admitted. "You look like the guy that tore up a hole in the sky and rode some space chariot while leading an alien army that laid waste on the city that I call home...and the guy that went up against Iron Man and his friends, including that big green scary monster looking dude."

He hung his head, looking down at the ground as he let out a long sigh. "I don't just look like that guy, darling, I--" He exhaled sharply before composing himself again. "I am that guy. Well, I was. And Banner's honestly not that terrifying once you get to know him." He looked at you again, seeing your hand and beginning to look emotionally deflated. "I went too far back."

"You know who else you look like?" you asked him, a smirk playing at your mouth as you reached for the chain around your neck, showing him the ring that hung in its center, closing the distance he put between you. "You look like my future husband."

The relief was written all over Loki's face as he eyed the ring he'd given you, a brilliant smile gracing his features when he pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours.  You melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him as the god's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

"My darling little mortal," he mumbled against your lips. "Somehow managing to fool a trickster god, for any amount of time, is a feat in and of itself." He kissed you again, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle when you put your arms over his shoulders.

"Well you said it yourself, I'm brilliant," you answered him back when you pulled away, your fiancée keeping your feet off the ground. He adjusted his hold on you to hold you up by a single arm, making you giggle when he started walking toward the front door and made your keys materialize in his now free hand. "What're you doing, Mischief?"

"You're finished here for the night," he stated simply, all the lights turning off, along with the doors locking closed, and the sign in front flipping to "Closed" to indicate you'd retired for the night, with a simple wave of his hand. "I'm taking you home, little mortal. Close your eyes."

A breeze flew by your face and the next thing you knew your back was pressed against the familiar wooden column of your kitchen area. Loki crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pressed your chests together, hands traveling down the sides of your body to wrap your legs around him.

The feel of your hands being brought above your head despite the god's hands still roaming and grasping at your thighs had your eyes snapping open, breaking the kiss with a little squeak from the back of your throat as you looked up. A thrill shot up your spine seeing a thick glowing ring of Loki's seiðr fastened around your wrists and keeping you tethered to the column behind you.

"I could not decide whether to reward you or punish you for getting the better of me earlier, my love," he rasped, latching his lips to your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. He smirked against you when you started whimpering and arching into his touch within seconds. "So I shall do both."

You let out a whiny sound that had him lightly grasping your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip to coax it into a pout. He kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. Then another ring of his seiðr appeared at your hips, keeping them flush against the column as both rings began to lift you up, your feet soon leaving the ground until he was eye level with your pelvis.

He made a motion with his hand and suddenly you felt a breeze all over your body as he bared you to him, your clothes disappearing in a flash of green.

"Loki…" you whined, squirming under his predatory gaze as another ring of seiðr went around each of your legs, just above your knee, and opened you to him.

"I've not been home in ages, my darling mortal," he rasped, not taking his eyes off of your arousal as he licked his lips. "And I am famished." He took a step closer to you, lightly running his fingers up your inner thigh.

"Let--Let me down, then," you said shakily, feeling your walls quivering and clenching around nothing as he traced up your inner thigh again, only this time with the tip of his nose before pressing a tender kiss to your skin. "I can fix us something to--"

"Oh no, sweet Talia." He kissed you right below your belly button, groaning into your skin. "I do not crave food, my love." He continued to press kisses to your stomach, faintly chuckling when you tried to close your legs and his restraints kept you from moving even an inch. "Your reward is that I will not deny you any ounce of pleasure tonight. I have longed for you too much to deny you much of anything."

He moved his head lower, and you let out an obscene moan of his name as he ran his tongue along the length of your slit before slowly circling your clit.

"Your punishment…" he breathed, pressing slow lingering kisses and laving his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "No touching."

"Loki, wait--Oh f-fuck!" The room filled with your moans as he proceeded to alternate between long licks at your entrance and close his lips over your clit for what felt like a blissfully torturous eternity. He kept his word on not denying you anything as he brought you over the edge over and over again.

Your throat was raw from your constant moans and screams of his name and various expletives, already having lost count of how many times you came for him when he slid two devastatingly long fingers inside you and curled up, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "One more, sweet girl," he mumbled around your clit, the vibrations from his voice already bringing you to the brink of orgasm yet again.

He moved your legs to rest your thighs on his shoulders, moaning against you when your entire body tensed as you came for him again, your pussy quivering against his mouth as he lapped at your release with languid strokes of his tongue. The restraints around your wrists and hips moved you down the column until your face was level with his, a weak whimper slipping from you when you saw how his lips glistened with your juices.

You barely registered the sound of the zipper as he kissed along your chest, biting and sucking more bruises into your skin. He lined himself up at your entrance, sliding into you in a single effortless thrust and eliciting a staggered sigh of relief from the god. "I've m-missed this," he whimpered between thrusts. "Missed you." Thrust. "My precious mortal." Thrust. "My wife." Thrust.

He threw his head back, letting out a decadent moan when you clenched around him after what he'd just called you. It had you desperately longing for your wedding day. Desperately aching to touch him. Just desperate for him.

"Please…" you whimpered, feebly fighting against the restraints again. When the rings holding you to the column finally disappeared, you could only let out a sharp exhale, your hand immediately clawing into your fiancée's back, the other weaving into his onyx curls.

Loki pressed you harder against the column, driving himself deeper inside you, his hands roaming and grasping wherever he could, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Couldn't touch you enough. He slanted his mouth over yours, moaning into the kiss when your tongues tangled together and you could taste your release on him. He adjusted his hold on you, letting out another muffled obscene sound into each other's mouths when the motion caused you to bounce on his cock.

Once he held you securely in his arms he started walking you further into your home, each step making you bounce on him and further weakening you in his embrace. He eased you down onto your bed, breaking the kiss and rendering you completely speechless watching his clothes melt away and baring his godly physique to you.

All you could do was breathe his name as he moved to hover over you again, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace. He wrapped his hand around your knee, raising your leg to wrap it around his waist so he could drive into you harder. When you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, the only sound that came out of you was a sharp moan, your body weakly arching against his hand before squeaking out, "I can't--"

"Just one more, dear heart. For me," he grunted, latching his lips onto that spot between your neck and shoulder as he kept on rubbing tight circles on the over-sensitized nub. Your legs shook and your walls convulsed around him, bring him to his own release as he marked your skin.

Once you both came down from your high, you felt his seiðr wash over you as he pulled you into his arms, putting the covers over you both with another wave of his hand. "I gotta be honest with you, sweetie, that felt a little pent up," you exhaled, a tiny part of you finding it unfair that he'd already resumed his regular breathing as if he didn't just fuck you senseless.

Damn Asgardian endurance.

"Because it was, precious mortal," he told you simply, tracing his finger along your cheek. "How long has it been since last you saw me?"

"Three months…give or take a week?" You braced yourself, already dreading what he'd say next.

"I have not seen you for over a year, my love," he confessed, pressing another kiss to your lips. "At least not like this. Every time I had seen you, you were yet to know me. There were worlds where you even outright feared me, scurrying away once you'd realized where you recognized me from. When I got to your shop earlier, I nearly believed I landed in another iteration of that world."

Suddenly your 'prank' from earlier left a sinking feeling in your stomach. "Loki, I'm sorry, I didn't know." You wrapped your arm around him, pressing yourself even closer to him if that were even possible, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just thought it'd be a bit of fun--"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before softly kissing the spot. "But I have missed you terribly. Getting to hold you, to love you. To simply be here with you and enjoy a moment with my wife."

"Future wife," you pouted. "We're still in the planning phase, sadly. I take it the last time you saw me was sometime in our…future? I'm sorry this still gets confusing for me." He nodded his answer, pressing his lips to  your forehead. "Well then the timelines better fucking behave because I refuse to let you go anywhere. I get that you're a big powerful hero now, and knowing that you're out there making sure that everyone's safe and gets to come home to their families? I couldn't be prouder. But you should get to come home, too." You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Preferably for longer than a quickie with your fiancé."

His brows furrowed, shaking his head at your sentiment before pulling you to lay on top of him, chests pressed together with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "I've come from a time where we were married and I called you my wife. Regardless of our pending ceremony, that is what you are to me now and what I will call you moving forward. No more of those semantics."

You nudged his chin with your nose, a giggle escaping you when he pulled you up to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Tell me about it. The future…"

"When I found you, you were a force to be reckoned with. Planning your friend Aria's wedding--"

"Ah, so she and Leif really are headed for the fairytale happy ever after?"

"No no, you were planning the wedding in Asgard." You eyes widened at the new information. "She was set to marry Thor."

"Wait she what?!"

A/N: I'm so excited to participate in this year's Secret Santa again! This has been so much fun to write for both times around, and hopefully the story did justice to the request 🥹💖

The request from @acidcasualties:

secret santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

[rowansinjune]

I've been playing heavily modded skyrim vr since I recently got a new rig and I just had the wildest experience in it

I'm playing a 7'2 brickwall of an Argonian named Smells-like-toad who is a skooma addict who awoke in a long abandoned prison and escaped. He wears no clothing except an amulet of Mara and a loincloth, one-hands massive polearms like they're twigs, and consumes exclusively raw meat and alcohol

Now, his first order of business upon escaping prison is to get some skooma, so he begins running down to Riften, but at somepoint takes a wrong turn in the dark (and nights are DARK without a torch) and happens across a Khajit in the night. Said Khajit just so happens to sell skooma. Mission achieved by accident

Now, Smells-like-toad realizes quickly that he doesn't have enough buy the skooma, but this is hardly an issue after he beheads the Khajit and rifles the skooma and moonsugar from his pockets. This is when the problems start

In VR, the button for pocketing items is much less ergonomically present than the button for consuming them, so by my mistake, a ravenous Smells-like-toad inhales 3 bottles of skooma and 5 rations of moonsugar

The modpack I'm using is so large I don't know half of the stuff in it, let alone the changes made to taking skooma. So next thing I know the world is spinning, warping between a rainbow of colors, some psychedelic rock plays distorted in the background, and all sorts of hallucinations begin immediately

For what I estimate to have been an in game 2 weeks, as the mods cause the day night cycle to run super quickly, Smells-like-toad was on a full skooma bender in the Skyrim wilds, heckling traveller's for more, lying catatonic for days on end, and getting even more lost

I'm not sure if it broke or not, but after the obvious effects wore off, the sky was still spinning. So I tried to sleep, unwittingly activating the thirst + hunger system mod. When slept didnt fix the sky I tried again and promptly died of dehydration

So, Smells-like-toad, an argonian beefcake, inhaled enough Skooma and raw moonsugar to send him on a two week bender that felt like 15 minutes to him, before he promptly dropped dead because he forget to eat or drink. What a legend