#this is not the end all be all of this discussion but it would take me many more pages to go through it all
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Sleepy Girl - p.b.
‣ paige bueckers x gf reader!
‣ wc: 2k of smut 😛
‣‣ synopsis: waking up in the morning horny and ur girlfriend is right there tbh (ending is kinda rushed and the fic is not yet edited so please bear with me)
‣‣‣ a/n: hey guys... i know i completely ghosted this app for a good while but thank you for all the support even while i was MIA. this idea came to me at 11pm on vacation and i figured i should grind it out and make a return. i have a lot of drafts and ideas i came up with but no idea if i'll be able to write them all. in the meantime enjoy and happy holidays!
The warm sunlight spilling in to your bedroom and directly onto your face from the small gap in your curtains seemed to have it out against you.
It was one of the incredibly rare weekends of the season, where your girlfriend, Paige, didn’t have morning practice, lifting, or any PT sessions for residual pain after coming back home late from a basketball game (UConn won, obviously) and the two of you planned to make the most of it.
Having been in a relationship for almost a year now, the two of you had gotten to know each other pretty well over time. From working with the basketball team as a photographer to sharing a class with Paige, to running into each other literally everywhere every single day, metaphorically and physically, the universe seemed to have an intricate plan to bring the two of you together. And with such insistent force, who were the two of you to rebel?
The past ten months dating Paige had been a small roller coaster, the days spent together blissfully were obviously accompanied by the occasional argument of time management or messy rooms or even slight jealousy, but it was nothing the two of you couldn’t work through.
And of course, it was all accompanied by the mind blowing sex you couldn’t stop having. Bent over the kitchen counter, in the shower, in the living room, standing up, from the back, you name it.
But, there was one thing you and Paige had discussed exploring, but never gotten the chance to pursue, and it seemed like this morning was the perfect chance to test it out.
Depending on who woke up first, the two of you often liked to wake the other up with gentle kisses, roaming hands, and sweet nothings. But your synced ovulation cycles brought on a new possibility: morning head.
Although the concept of fucking your girlfriend while she was asleep seemed… well, odd to say the least, the two of you had discussed consent extremely thoroughly, and you weren’t going to sit (or lay in this instance) here and pretend that the sight of Paige laying in your bed right now wasn’t actively turning you on.
She had come to your off campus apartment immediately after her game at XL center and crashed pretty fast, only stopping to shower change into an old, oversized yet cropped off the shoulder sweatshirt of yours and a pair of boxers she left in your drawers.
Currently, she was conveniently splayed out on her back, her left arm stretched above her head raised the hem of your sweatshirt upwards, exposing the curve of her chest and the slightest glimpse of her pink nipples, which were already slightly peaked from the cold air radiating from your fan.
It didn’t take long for you to make up your mind, softly crawling over to rest in between her legs as you leaned over her sleeping figure, using your left hand to gently lift the fabric over her perky tits, exposing her creamy skin to you. You slowly peppered kisses on her boobs, not wanting to create too much stimulation that would wake her before you got to the more exciting part. Although, you weren’t sure you would have to worry about that. Paige could sleep through a hurricane if she was tired enough.
You nipped and sucked at her chest, making sure to pay special attention to her nipples before beginning your descent down her toned abs, bringing your hands to rub at her thighs simultaneously.
Paige groaned softly in her sleep, unconsciously spreading her legs out wider as your fingers danced over the waistband of her boxers.
Deciding that there was no reason to be a tease, especially with the growing ache in between your own legs, you hooked your fingers in her boxers and pulled them downwards, being extremely careful when taking them off her body fully and throwing them off into a corner of your room.
You shift lower, aligning your face with Paige’s already wet cunt as you grip her thighs and blow into her folds lightly, gently arousing her.
You start softly, small kisses and hickeys leading inwards before you finally allow your tongue to lick a long stripe from her entrance up to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her breath slightly hitch.
Even in her sleep, Paige’s body was actively reacting to the growing pleasure as you circled her clit with your tongue and hummed into her, sending shockwaves running through her body, legs spreading, mouth dropping open with low moans, and back arching.
And yet, she was still asleep. You had no interest in waking her up forcefully, it would defeat the whole purpose of morning head. So, you dutifully detached your lips from her clit, opting to replace it with your thumb as you run your fingers through the slick she had accumulated before inserting your middle finger into her, curling it upwards in the way you knew she loved, which seemed to do the trick.
Her eyes began to flutter open the moment you added in your ring finger, mouth dropping with a groan as her right hand reaches out to cup the side of your face.
"Good morning," you rasp out, your breath hot against her sensitive cunt as you smirk at the already fucked out expression on her face.
"Fuck baby, God I didn’t think it would be this good when we talked about-”
Her sleepy whines were cut off with another loud moan as you reattached your lips to her clit, pressing into her g-spot with your fingers while simultaneously sucking her clit, small laughs vibrating through her core as you watched her body shudder at your actions. Her hand immediately moved up to your scalp, placing a firm grip in your head as she secured your spot deep between her legs, anchoring you in place.
"Aw shit ma, fuck you're so good at that, right there just like that, such a good fucking girl for me, don't stop mama you're gonna make me cum," her breathless rambles were endless as she used her left hand to play with her already exposed nipples.
The added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge, and it wasn't long before her muscular thighs began to shake around your head, closing around the sides of your face as she began to grind her hips into your mouth, chasing every second of her orgasm as her mouth hung open with cries.
She eventually let up after you finished licking her clean, even making a show of pulling your fingers out of her and sucking her juices off of them. Her gaze darkens as she pulls you up and over her body once again, capturing your lips in a deep kiss.
She nips at your bottom lip before pulling away, feigning annoyance in her tone. "As much as I loved the little stunt you pulled just now, shit pissed me off too. Brought this up in the first place cause I wanted to surprise you."
"Actin' like it's that big of a deal P, you can just do it a different morning," you teased, hand running up and down her side.
"Mm, whatever. All I care about right now is gettin' you right ma," she mumbles against your lips, reconnecting your lips as she slips her tongue into your mouth, grabbing your ass and rolling your hips into her at the same time.
"Nuh uh, it's your day to pillow princess. Lemme spoil you a little bit. You're still tired and sore from your game yeah? Besides, I have a better idea," you insisted, rising up and straddling her waist.
You shoved your sweater off her body before Paige's large hands pulled your grey tank top up and over your head, tossing it somewhere either of you couldn't be bothered to check. Her hand pressed into your mid back, forcing you to arch over her, conveniently placing your perky tits right over her mouth.
Her teeth scraped against your stiff peaks as her other hand, which had quickly returned to its place resting on your ass, began rocking your hips back and forth over her abs, drawing out deep sighs of pleasure from the multiple sources of friction and stimulation.
"Fuck Paige," you whined out, "why you gotta make it so hard for me to take care of you sometimes," you half-heartedly reprimanded, pinching her nipple roughly as you tore yourself away from her, shimmying your basically non-existent thong off as you resettled yourself in between her legs.
"Crawl up to the headboard," you demanded, raising your eyebrow at her inquisitive expression.
"Please," you added in with a soft pout, satisfied when she complied with your request. You eagerly followed her body, stationing your hands on her shoulders as you draped your right leg over her left, maneuvering her right in order to rest over your own left before gently lowering yourself down, hissing the moment your cores met.
You rolled your hips forward tentatively, moving your left hand down to Paige's right thigh while you sank forward, circling your other arm around her neck as you moaned against her lips.
The kiss was a needy, open mouthed mess of saliva and moans as you continued to roll your hips into Paige's with the help of her guiding hands, shocks of pleasure licking your spine every time your clits aligned.
As you approached closer to your orgasm, your head tipped back, mouth hung open with desperate, borderline pornographic whines constantly spilling out, impairing your ability to kiss Paige back. Though, she would never complain and simply kept her mouth busy by sucking hickeys along your neck and chest, whispering filthy words of encouragement into your skin.
"My girl's such a slut for me, huh? Riding me so good, pussy so wet she's dripping all over me, 's basically crying for me ma. You like that?"
Her gravely voice added to the fuzzy feeling that had taken over your brain, driven only by the tight coil threatening to snap any second in your belly. From the feeling of yours and Paige's warm slickness coating your entire cunt, to the deep throbbing you clit was experiencing.
You moved your left hand from Paige's thigh up to the headboard, using it to grind down harder against Paige's center, and the pressure on your clits had moans ringing out from both of you.
"God, Paige. So close baby, fuck I'm so close," you whined near incoherently, eyes screwed shut from the way your entire body was on fire, on the edge of immense pleasure.
She moved her mouth to the sweet spot behind your ear, nipping at the skin as she her fingers deftly began tweaking your nipples. "Cum for baby, give it to me. Please need it so bad."
You cry out as a freight train of an orgasm hits you, Paige's words and hands sending you over the edge, and the sight of you coming undone, not to mention the sounds you were letting out, left Paige no choice but to follow your lead.
Your body shuddered against hers, the pleasure slowly washing over you, leaving you breathless and extremely sensitive. You untangled your legs from Paige, collapsing on the bed next to her and pulling her down with you.
You kissed her sweetly, intimately, a far cry from the sex you were just having.
"I love you so much you know that?" You muttered against Paige's lips, cracking your eyes open to see the lazy smile set on her face.
"I love you too, even though I'm pissed you stole my surprise," she whispered defiantly.
"What you don't think those two orgasms made up for it? We can go for round two if you really insist," you smirked, knowing that there was no way your body could handle another orgasm immediately.
Before she can even answer, your stomach growled loudly, inciting loud laughter from both of you.
"How about we take care of that first yeah? We can go for round two in the shower after breakfast," she responded slyly, pulling you up and out of bed with her to get dressed and have breakfast together. To you, nothing in the world could beat mornings like these with Paige.
#paige bueckers#paige x fem reader#paige bueckers x reader#paige bueckers x oc#paige bueckers smut#paige buckets#uconn wbb#uconn wcbb#uconn women’s basketball#paige x reader#wcbb#wcbb x reader#wbb x reader#ncaa wbb#wbb#wlw smut#wlw#wcbb smut#fem reader#x reader#uconn huskies#azzi fudd#kate martin#nika muhl#caitlin clark
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Sylus Qin, Girl Dad | masterlist
I keep seeing discussions of what Sylus would be like as the father to a daughter. So here's my take: a short story about Sylus being a dad to a teenage daughter. You can't tell me he doesn't respect the hell out of her and give her everything she wants. Sylus x fem reader, sylus x mc.
The kitchen is dark, except for the warm glow from the fireplace and the faint light drifting in through the floor to ceiling windows—twin nocturnal cityscapes, Linkon CIty and the heart of the N109 Zone replacing starlight, the blood red moon bleeding into white here at the border between light and dark, law and chaos, your world and his, where you and he have built a home overlooking both of your territories.
He’s sipping a glass of wine, lounging in one of the overstuffed armchairs near the open hearth, the fire crackling pleasantly. He’s scrolling auction listings, plotting what to give you for your upcoming anniversary. Nothing is good enough. Nothing is ever good enough, for you, his beloved. Every year, he fights the same battle—finding the perfect gift that’s worthy of his wife. This year is your twentieth. He swirls the wine, inhales its rich scent. He appreciates the warmth it sends through him with each sip, scowls at the inferior, the common, the unacceptable offerings available in the highest echelons of the antique market.
His thoughts are interrupted by quiet footsteps echoing in the marble hallway beyond the open kitchen door.
“Tiger?” He speaks softly, but his voice sounds loud in the quiet kitchen—the chef and staff are long gone for the evening. The footsteps pause.
“You’re up?”
A voice like rich, slow honey. A mix of Sylus’s own deep tone and his kitten’s sweet, steel-reinforced notes.
“Clearly,” he laughs, low. “Going somewhere?”
Finally, the vision of beauty that never fails to hijack the breath in his lungs appears in the kitchen doorway.
Sometimes he can’t quite believe it—that you forgot him, that he hurt you so terribly, that you let him near again, and in the end accepted him, all over again. That you reached back to him, finally, and offered your hand in return for his. That you said yes, at every turn. Yes, he could kiss you. Yes, he could court you. Yes, he could make love to you. Yes, he could marry you.
Yes, it’s a girl.
Yes, he could help raise the daughter you made, together. With all of his flaws. All of the violence in his hands, in his horns, his tail—you were still willing to let him hold the little mewling infant, the army-crawling roly-poly, the toddling chaos monster.
He could attend soccer games, school plays, choir concerts. He squinted at video tutorials on how to make brownies, cupcakes, for bake sales.
“I can just buy the school and fund anything they need,” he grumbled, trying to fish yet another eggshell out of the gooey batter.
“No, you can’t. That’s not the point of a bake sale, Sylus,” you murmured, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind, resting your head on his broad back. “And where is our spawn? She’s supposed to help you with this as part of the educational value of this whole circus.”
He leaned back, soaking in your warmth, savoring the press of your body against his. “She stuffed herself full of cookie dough and passed out. I put her to bed.”
In response, you slipped your hands under the Kiss the Cook, pink frilly apron he wore every time he cooked. A gift from the twins, trying to both pester and help their boss get smooches while in the kitchen.
“And why can’t I buy the damn school? This is utterly inefficient,” he groused, as you slipped your hand under the waistband of his comfortable pants. He groaned. “And if you’re not careful, kitten, I’m never going to finish these in time for tomorrow if you keep doing that.”
“Mmm, there go your claims of being able to multitask.”
“I’ll gladly admit that my powers of multitasking fail when your clever hands are involved, beloved,” he said, trying to turn in your arms.
“Oh well. Another time then.” You had squeezed, once, firmly, just to let him know what he was missing, before sliding your hands from his pants and striding from the room to the sound of his complaints about poor business practices, not delivering what you promise, how is he supposed to focus on the recipe instructions with this situation in his pants, the one you caused?
The years passed, stacked, spread, and you still say yes to him, every day, except when you’re deliberately trying to torment him. He never dreamt he could be so happy, for so long. His happiness only compounds, expands, fills his chest to the point of pain as he sees his daughter standing in the hallway.
She lifts an eyebrow. Meets his snark with her own in answer to his question of if she's going somewhere: “Clearly.”
He tries to suppress his smile, the pride washing through him. “And where are you going at this time of night, tiger?”
“Guess,” she says, and he has the strange feeling of looking in a mirror, and looking at you, all at once. Her eyes, rubies glittering in the firelight. The spill of her hair, just like yours. The snark—from him? From you? Not that it matters, because his daughter is also wholly herself.
He tilts his head, pretends to think. “Out with friends? Or one friend in particular?”
She hums, drifts into the room. Her scent smells like home to him, in a similar way to how yours does, ever since he found you again, all those years ago, while also being threaded through with distinctly different perfume, shower gel, hair product.
“Both,” she answers, and sits on the armrest of the chair he’s sitting in. She leans over, sniffs the wine in his hand. “Can I have a sip?”
“Why would I let you waste my wine, when the last time you tried it you said it tasted like depression juice,” he gripes, moving the wine glass away from her.
She pouts a little, shrugs. “You said it’s an acquired taste. How am I to acquire it if I don’t try it more than once?”
He sighs, indulges her. “One sip.”
She takes the glass by the stem, as he taught her, swirls it. Drinks. Scrunches her nose in an unbearably adorable way. “Nope, still shit.”
“You and your mother. Absolutely no refined palate,” he laments, enjoying how she just laughs at his feigned disappointment, just like you do.
She snorts. “I have a palate for actual yummy drinks.”
“And what do we do after each yummy drink, oh refined one?” he instructs in a way that makes her roll her eyes.
“A big glass of water. To ensure that I spend half the night waiting in line for the bathroom.”
“Maybe if you don’t want to spend half the night in the bathroom, drink less alcohol, tiger.”
“Yes, yes, thank you daddy.” She leans against him, rests her head on his shoulder, looks at his tablet. “Anniversary present?”
He grunts in affirmation.
“You know she’s just happy to spend time with you. You don’t need to outdo yourself, every year.”
“Just because she’s satisfied with the bare minimum, doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve the universe served on a platter.”
“She says the same about you. You’re both gross,” she laughs.
“Take notes, tiger. Never settle for anyone who doesn’t treat you as well as I treat your mother.”
“Ah, yes, and should I take notes on your pride and arrogance, too, daddy?”
He smirks at his heart leaning against his shoulder. He had no idea his heart was so big, that it could encompass both you, and another whole other person, until his little girl came along. Along with the all-encompassing love, comes the terror. His heart, walking around in two different bodies, out in the world. Yours. His daughter’s. “If it helps. You’re your mother’s daughter—you’re entitled to be as arrogant as you like, treasure.”
“Noted.” Her tone is long-suffering, but pleased. “Can I go now?”
“Is that what you’re wearing?” He flicks a gaze to her short skirt, knee-high boots. The black and red corset cinching her lovely frame.
She sits up, kisses his cheek. “Yes. Problem?”
He sighs. “You know what you’re doing. Where people are looking, when you’re dressed like that.”
She sniffs, looks bored. “Good thing I don’t wear it for anyone else, but for me. They can look all they like.”
He understands dressing to one’s own tastes. To standing out, being the center of attention based on flashy apparel. “You know what to do, if anyone does anything that makes you uncomfortable? Including your particular friend?”
She rolls her eyes again. “Tell them to stop.”
“And if they don’t?” He suppresses the murderous rage at the very idea that someone would disrespect his daughter in such a way.
“Explode their balls with my evol,” she intones, having endured this conversation with her overprotective father more times than she can count.
“And then?” he prompts, pleased.
“Call you, Uncle Aidan, Uncle Luke, and Uncle Kieran,” she sing-songs, getting to her feet. Getting ready to make her escape.
“And if the cops show up before your uncles, or me?”
“I will not answer any questions without my attorney present,” she mocks her father’s deep voice, his bored rhythm of speech.
“And you’ll keep your phone on at all times?”
“Yes, daddy,” she humors him. “And if I do anything that I know will piss you off or scare mama, I’ll still call you to come save me, and you promise you won’t be mad at me.”
“Oh, I’ll be mad, but you’re still just a kid, it would be absurd for us to expect you never to make a mistake.” He suppresses another smile at her scowl. She looks so much like you, sometimes. It hurts his heart, in the best possible way. “Your safety is more important than anything else. We can always discuss consequences later.”
“Okay, okay. I promise to call you even if I know you’re going to be unhappy. Can I go now?”
He looks at her, memorizes her face, the curve of her cheek, admires the intelligence, the humor in her bright, sparkling eyes. It scares the shit out of him, every time she walks out of his sight. He wants to protect her, in the same way he still wants to protect you, from the entire weight of the cruel universe, from all the vagaries of foul humanity. But he read that it’s important for teenagers to feel that their parents trust them, to try out what it feels like to be independent, with a safety net waiting below. He’ll tolerate the terror, for the sake of his precious daughter. With safety measures in place, of course.
“Have fun, treasure.” He releases her, watches as she walks with the defiant confidence of a teenager to the door, secure in her knowledge that she’s already all grown up, that she’s older beyond her years, that her parents just worry too much. His heart feels like it’s going to burst in his chest when she turns, smiles at him.
“Love you, daddy.”
And then she’s gone, not waiting for his answer, because she already knows. One thing he has done right, in all of his lifetimes—one sin he will never commit. His daughter has never, ever had a reason to question how much he adores her.
He sips his wine. Turns his gaze toward the window, sees his own reflection in the glass. His own reflection, with his eyes that are no longer just his own, but the eyes of his daughter looking back at him.
“You vetted her new guy, right?” The voice of Sylus’s beloved interrupts his thoughts. He turns, sees you pointing at your own right eye, ensuring that her husband had ransacked the depths of her daughter’s suitor’s soul before letting her out the door tonight.
He smirks. “I might have paid a visit to his part time job when she first mentioned him."
“And he’s okay?” You stride over to him, slip into his lap. Take the wine glass from his hand, sip. Because you know that everything of his, is yours, and always has been. He wraps his arms around your waist, inhales the scent of your skin, your lovely hair.
“He’s a good kid,” he admits. “Not good enough for her. But good enough for her to toy with, if she likes.”
“And the app on her phone?” You ignore his cynicism, intent on ensuring that all precautions are in place. You worry about your daughter, as much as he does. Your daughter has no idea, however, that you’re the scary one out of her two parents. If someone dares fuck with your baby girl, they’ll have to face her mother’s wrath. Sylus would just kill them—quietly, efficiently. Problem solved.
You would take your time with them.
He loves you so fucking much.
Which is why he instructs his daughter to call him and her uncles, and not you. Sylus is a practical man. There is simply no need to have to break his beloved out of jail for the gruesome murder of some handsy asshole when Sylus can make a corpse disappear with the snap of his fingers.
“Tracking as we speak,” he assures you.
“And the twins?”
“Already on their way to remain at a discrete distance on standby in case she calls.”
“Thank you,” you murmur, finally satisfied. You rest your head where his daughter just rested hers. What use are such wide, strong shoulders, after all, if not for cushioning the precious head of his beloved and his treasured child?
“No, thank you” He’s suddenly overwhelmed with the size of his gratitude. “For doing all the hard work. Making her. Raising her to carry your goodness inside her. For saying yes.”
You just laugh a little at his uncharacteristic speech. Lift your head. “You were very persuasive, in the end. You can thank yourself, for making me an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
“And what offer was that, beloved?”
“You,” you sigh. “Everything that you are, and ever will be.”
He sniffs. “You were always a poor negotiator, compared to the swindlers in the N109 Zone. Seems like I got the better end of the deal.”
You roll your eyes, and he sees his daughter in your face. “For someone with such a good eye for fine things, you’ve never been able to see the value in the mirror,” you tease. “But that’s all right. You’re arrogant enough already.” You’ll never understand how Sylus has always managed to be so proud, arrogant, and yet so vulnerable at the same time.
You love him so much, for all of his complexity.
He takes the wine glass from you. Sets it next to the armchair.
“With our treasure out of the house, we’re alone right now,” he whispers into your ear. You shiver. After all these years, his voice still sends excitement along your skin, your spine. “How about I remind you why I’m so arrogant, until she gets home?”
You turn your head, kiss him softly. His lips are still so soft. He tastes like warm wine, like home. “Another offer I can’t refuse.”
He doesn’t need any other answer as he lifts you in his arms, carries you down the long marble halls, lays you down on the big bed you share.
He makes good on his offer. Sylus has always kept his word, from the very beginning, after all.
You daughter makes it home just fine later that night, as you're sleeping soundly. As Sylus reads a book next to you, one hand drifting absentmindedly up and down your bare back, waiting up for her footsteps. He experiences relief, a restored sense of wholeness when he hears them echoing down the hall.
No homicide necessary.
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Chapter 81 of human Bill Cipher not enjoying being the Mystery Shack's prisoner but being even less keen on being the government's prisoner: the feds are snooping around the shack, nobody likes this, and so a family meeting is called to discuss how to send them packing.
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"I just kept telling him I didn't know anything," said Soos. He was slumped bonelessly on the couch, wiping his sweaty forehead with his sleeve and holding a soda in one shaky hand. "I accidentally said I don't know anything when he asked where he could get lunch in town!"
"You did good, Soos," Stan said. "That's how you handle feds—don't tell 'em anything."
Stan and Ford had called a household meeting, and now everyone was packed into the living room: Soos and the kids on the couch, Stan and Abuelita in the armchairs, Bill and Wendy at the living room table, and Ford out in the entryway so he could pace.
(Everyone was wearing deely boppers. Mabel had had a very productive day.)
Even Waddles and Gompers had been dragged to the mandatory meeting. Gompers had already eaten the pink pompoms off Waddle's deely boppers and was now trying to eat the hem of Dipper's shorts while Dipper tried to push him back from touching the sunburns on his legs.
"What are we gonna do?" Dipper asked. "Last year these guys tried to arrest Stan, and he was still using a fake name back then—so now, the agents could be after Stan or Ford."
"Dial back the pessimism. Right now, they're not after anybody," Bill said. "They're just following up on the eclipse from last week." And a tip about somebody dangerous in the shack. Bill pushed those worries aside. "They don't have any reason to come back!"
"Except the flash drive," Soos said. "Which they know is here. Inside the shack. Cuz they sensed it."
"Right. Yep. Except that," Bill said. "Hey, Dolores—howsabout you whip up one of your special 'welcome to the shack' dinners for them? I'm sure they'd enjoy it just as much as I did."
Dolores nodded thoughtfully. (The tiny sleigh bells on her deely boppers jingles.) "I could," she said. "But what would we do with the bodies?"
"We've got the perfect in-house body disposal! Chop 'em up and feed 'em to the pig."
"Nooo!" Mabel flung her arms protectively over Waddles. He oinked neutrally. "We're not feeding people to Waddles!"
"He'd probably love it!"
"Uh-uh."
"Fine, then the gnomes," Bill said.
Ford said, "Let's call murder 'Plan B.'"
Bill rolled his eye. "All right, smart guy, what's Plan A?"
Ford didn't immediately reply. He paced for another few seconds in the entryway, gathering his thoughts. "There are three ways this could end badly. We have to find a way to prevent all of them," he finally said. "One: the agents discover that there's something under the house and find the portal. Two: the agents remember there's something under the house, and realize they've been brainwashed. Three: the agents retrieve their flash drive, and that reminds them something's under the house."
Stan added, "And if any of those happens, we're both going to jail. Probably Soos too, as an accomplice. Kids might even be in trouble for escaping custody last year." Dipper and Mabel exchanged an alarmed look.
Bill looked at Wendy. "Hey, look who's off the hook." He held up a hand.
"Woo-hoo!" She high-fived him. "We'll visit the rest of you guys in jail."
Mournfully, Mabel asked, "If we get arrested, can you send me crayons?"
"I'll get you one of those boxes with a hundred crayons," Bill said. "And hide a shank in that yellowy green one you never use."
"Thanks."
But if any of those three scenarios came true, that meant government agents crawling all over Bill's portal. Best case scenario, it'd end up halfway across the country in a secret military base. There was tech left in the wreck in the basement that couldn't possibly be synthesized using Earth's current technology, and the Trilazzx Betian ship didn't have backup parts for all of them.
And that wasn't even taking that anonymous tip into account...
"I shouldn't have to go to jail," Ford grumbled. "I wasn't behind the crimes committed in my name, Stanley was."
"Hey," Stan said, "you're the one who impersonated a government agent! Besides, did you really not commit any crimes while building your dumb portal?"
Ford winced. "What's the statute of limitations on burgling radioactive waste?"
"Don't worry, Mothman," Bill called. (Ford self-consciously adjusted his deely boppers, which had paper moths taped to the ends.) "I tossed most of the incriminating evidence in the bottomless pit while you were asleep!"
"Wh— Is that where my lockpicking kit went?!"
"Haha, yeah!" Bill had bought Keyhole's loyalty for the next three hundred years with that.
Wendy waved a hand between Bill and Ford to interrupt their banter. "We can probably keep them from discovering the portal by just not giving them a reason to look behind the vending machine, right?"
"And if we keep them from getting Gompers, they won't get the flash drive," Dipper said.
Mabel said, "What if we put him on a plane to Japan! Do you wanna go to Japan, Gompers?"
Gompers looked at Mabel impassively.
"It's no good," Abuelita said. "It will take weeks to get a passport for the goat."
"Aww."
"There are plenty of ways we can keep their hands off the drive," Ford said. "We could just hide Gompers underground, for instance—there's no way their sensors can reach that far.
Oh no, not when it was clear someone had been down there tinkering with the portal. "Do that and they'll know we did something to hide it! We'll never get rid of them then."
"True," Ford sighed.
Bill said. "I'm most worried about them remembering something on their own. The agents mentioned the portal's gravitational anomalies from last summer—are they remembering something they shouldn't, or did you leave them with those memories?"
Ford hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Stan. Stan shrugged.
"Oh, right. You aren't the expert on how the memory gun operates." Bill rolled his eye toward Wendy. "You see how helpless he is without me around to feed him information?"
"Pshh, shut up. Keep me out of your weird old people academic grudge."
Dryly, Ford said, "Care to enlighten us with your superior knowledge, o god of wisdom?"
No, he really didn't. Not for Ford, anyway. He wouldn't even be grateful for it.
But, under the circumstances—knowing that the agents were after him, too... "Oh, why not," Bill said. "What did you enter in the gun? The exact wording."
Ford frowned, glancing toward the ceiling as he concentrated. "It was... I didn't know exactly how much they knew—I didn't even know which names they knew Stan under—so I tried to make it as broad as possible. I think it said something like 'Pines Household's Secrets'?"
Bill thought that over. "Okay. Okay, yeah, that works. That's perfect, actually—best answer you could have given. You never disappoint, IQ."
Ford was visibly unmoved by the flattery (which was just as well, because Bill had given it out of habit as he slid back into the role of teacher, and had immediately regretted it). "And I suppose you're going to explain why that wording is so important."
"I could," Bill said. "Do you want to know?"
Ford glowered at Bill, lips pressed together in a thin line. Bill stared back, brows arched expectantly. (Wendy looked between the two of them and snorted. Bill pushed her without breaking eye contact with Ford.)
Mabel said, "I wanna know."
"Good enough for me!" Bill hopped from his seat and crossed the living room to a spot where he could address the group more easily. "The memory gun doesn't actually destroy memories, it just severs the connections between those memories and the rest of the brain. Like snipping a squid's tentacles to free it from a squid king."
"What's a squid king?" Soos asked.
"It's like a rat king made of giant squid. It takes at least four to qualify because if their tentacles are knotted in a circle that's just a squid ring," Bill said. "So! Usually you find your own memories by their relationship to other memories. Driving by the grocery store reminds you that you need to go shopping, which reminds you that you're out of straws, which reminds you of when your doctor's eye got gouged out, which reminds you of those vampires in the library, which reminds you of that book you need to return, yadda yadda."
Stan said, "Wait, your doctor got what—?"
"He was fine, he had it coming, and I was nowhere nearby."
"And how's that get you to vampires?!"
"The tangy taste of blood left in your straw. Please hold any other questions to the end!" Bill said. "But, since the memory gun severs a memory from the ones connected to it, you can't be indirectly reminded of it—the chain's been broken. But the memory'sstill there. All it takes is a direct reminder to recall it, and then it starts reattaching to your other memories. Everyone with me so far?" He directed the question in Mabel's direction.
Mabel nodded. Ford opened his mouth to ask a question.
"Great," Bill said. "But! What gets severed is determined by whatever you programmed into the gun. So, for example, if you run into a vampire in the library, then get shot with a memory gun programmed with the word 'Vampires,' there's no more jumping from your doctor to that late book! And you won't remember your vampire encounter if you wander around the library—at most, you might get a sense of deja vu—but you will get back your memory of the whole thing if you run into another vampire!"
He nodded toward Ford. "So 'Pines household's secrets is the best phrase you could've picked. It means they forgot any Pines secrets—including Stanley's criminal record—any household secrets—including the machine in the basement—and since they only forgot the 'secrets,' they can run into anything that isn't secret without recovering their severed memories—like, say, the entire upstairs of the shack."
Slowly, Ford said, "Then that's why they remember last year's gravitational anomalies. The cause is one of our secrets, but the anomalies themselves aren't a secret—they're a matter of public record."
"Bingo," Bill said. "Well! That should be simple enough. Any questions?"
Mabel raised a hand.
Bill pointed at her. "Yes!"
"Are there vampires at the library?"
"Not anymore!"
"Aw."
Dipper asked, "Did you murder your doctor with a straw?"
"I did not and I won't be taking any more questions on the topic, it was a very traumatic experience" for the patient who went in after Bill.
Stan asked, "Why are you wearing a bedsheet for a skirt."
"Because somebody—" Bill shot Soos a dark look, "grabbed all my perfectly clean clothes for laundry day, and left me with a bedsheet and one dirty t-shirt."
Soos chuckled sheepishly. "Whoops. Sorry, dude."
Ford grudgingly raised a hand.
Bill grudgingly said, "What."
"Are squid kings real."
"Yes. As of last summer there were seven with at least fifty giant squid, but two were negotiating a merger so it might be six by now. I haven't had a chance to check!"
"Negotiating a merger? Do—do they combine voluntarily?"
"Oh, sure. In droves. It's a huge honor! The one I'm friends with says the psychic powers are totally worth the eventual zombification—they're ninety percent undead now and haven't regretted it once in five hundred years."
Ford opened his mouth, got stuck between three questions, and didn't manage to settle on one before Abuelita raised a hand.
Bill's attention switched to her. "Yes!"
With an air of patience unwarranted by Bill's actions, Abuelita asked, "Why are you standing on my TV."
Bill looked down. So he was. "This is my lecture podium."
Abuelita's eyes narrowed. Bill cheerfully ignored her. "Any questions about the memory gun?"
There was a general murmured agreement that, no, that part had been pretty clear. Stan snapped, "Now get off the TV."
As Bill hopped down and caught his balance, Wendy said, "So... as long as they don't know any of the shack's secrets and we get the flash drive out of Gompers before they're back, we're cool, right? We can just erase their files and say 'hey, sorry, the goat pooped this out, totally not our fault.' If they don't remember anything, it's not like they've got a reason to keep investigating the shack."
Bill tried to imagine how they'd react if he told them someone had anonymously reported him to the agents. What if they decided scapegoating him could protect the rest of them from the investigation? (And was he sure it wasn't someone in the room who'd reported him?) "Yep! Pretty much! That'd solve our problems!"
"Okay," Wendy said. "Great. So... we're good, right?"
The room studied each other uneasily, everyone waiting for someone else to answer. "Yes," Ford said unconvincingly. "We're good. Er—kids, we need to... discuss the details of... how to handle this. You don't need to stick around." He looked at Stan. Stan gave him a slight nod. (It made the googly eyes on his deely boppers wiggle.)
Dipper and Mabel exchanged a glance. Dipper said, "Are you sure? We could..."
"I'm sure. Maybe you should go upstairs," Ford said. "Leave Gompers here."
Mabel sat up straighter, preparing to argue, and glanced toward Bill; but when Bill shrugged rather than ready to defend her, she sighed and poked Dipper. "C'mon." ("Ow." He pushed her finger away from his sunburned arm.) They left reluctantly, Mabel escorting Waddles along with her.
Ford tilted his head toward the door. "That means you too, Miss Corduroy. Hup hup."
Wendy groaned. "Fine." She slid out of her seat and headed for the door. "Hey Goldie, let me know if anything interesting happens."
"You got it, cool girl."
Soos raised a hand. "Am I one of the kids?"
"Not today," Ford said.
"Aw."
Sensing a change in the atmosphere, Abuelita got to her feet. "I will get dinner started." She shuffled out of the room.
Bill waited until the door shut behind Wendy and he was sure the kids were upstairs; and then asked, "So are we kicking the kids out for the reason I think?"
"Afraid so. Now that the government knows the flash drive is here, they'll be back with a warrant as soon as possible. We can't waste any time." Ford knelt next to Gompers and pulled out a scalpel. "Somebody hold the goat down."
"Whoa!" Stan jumped to his feet. His deely bopper googly eyes rattled in alarm. "Were you just carrying that around?!"
Bill was abruptly reminded of one of the reasons he'd liked Ford. He squatted next to him. "All right, I can see where the drive's lodged, I can tell you where to cut—"
"Dudes!" Soos flung himself across Gompers. 'You can't cut him open! He's like part of the family! He's been eating out of the shack's garbage for years, does that mean nothing to you?!" (Gompers attempted to eat the foam lightning bolts off Soos's deely boppers.)
Bill groaned. "Come on, who cares?! It's not like he's a person anymore!"
The room stared at Bill. Stan said, "Did you say 'anymore'?"
Bill paused. "Forget I said that."
Ford sighed. "Fine, we'll try to find a solution without surgery." (But, Bill thought, he sounded a little disappointed.) "But if we're using a slower method, the agents might be back before we can retrieve the flash drive. We need a way to stop them from finding it."
"Or from finding the door behind the vending machine," Soos said. "Now that they know the drive's been here, they're gonna keep looking until they find it! What if they think it might've fallen behind the vending machine or something?"
"What we need is a distraction," Stan said. "Something that'll keep 'em from searching the shack too thoroughly."
"And ideally, something that will keep them from coming back," Ford said. "They keep returning to Gravity Falls because of the power surges and related gravity anomalies in town, correct? Obviously, the meteor shower story wasn't convincing enough. If we give them an explanation that lets them close the case completely..."
Which was all well and good, except they weren't just looking for power surges and gravity hiccups anymore. They thought somebody in the shack was a threat to national security. Bill had kept suspicion away from himself for the day by pretending to be a tourist, but if the eagles got serious, that wouldn't last long. If they were watching the shack, they'd realize Bill was a resident; and if they tried to investigate him at all, they'd quickly realize they couldn't find any legal records of his existence. Not to put too fine a point on it, but the Theraprism's reincarnation machine hadn't given him the right skin color to get away with that in this country, especially during a witch hunt for a suspected terrorist.
And, worse—what if they did identify him?
He'd heard Agent Trigger say Soos's alien keychains resembled the "real thing." The Bureau of Covert Investigations didn't tell all its agents about all its cases—but it sounded like these two had been to Hangar 618 at least once.
So had Bill.
Over 60 years ago, a military experiment had accidentally ripped open a very small hole to the Nightmare Realm. Not big enough for Bill to squeeze his full self through (HA! Not even close), but big enough to project a hologram through—something solid enough for the soldiers who'd detected the temporary rift to see and touch. And, naturally, they'd hauled his hologram to Hangar 618—the five-sensed suckers thought the projection was his real body—where they hid all their unidentified fallen objects.
It had been fun! He'd gotten to use all his army name puns (Major Pain, General Disarray, Private Shame, etc.), he'd lived out a centuries-old dream of snorting a line of gunpowder, he'd gotten Commander I-Don't-Even-Know-'Er to sing "On Top of Spaghetti" in exchange for Bill agreeing to leave the artillery room, he'd learned a dirty joke from the nurse brought in to assist with his vivisection, he'd introduced himself to half the base...
He'd introduced himself.
Somewhere, probably in some redacted appendix to Project Blue Book, the US military had a file on Bill Cipher—and so did the eagles. They knew his name. Hell, they even had his thumbprints—obviously alien thumbprints, that he'd retained when he reincarnated. Every object in the shack he'd ever touched carried the proof that he was Bill Cipher.
If whoever had sent the Bureau a tip had mentioned his name... Well, there were a lot of Bills in America, but not a lot using the last name "Cipher." There were probably under fifty living humans who knew about the triangle in Hangar 618, but for those who did, hearing that name resurface in Gravity Falls would blow their gelatinous little minds. He was sure they would love to get their hands on him again. He bet they'd be fascinated to find out how a triangle had fit into a human skin.
Getting hauled into a secret government facility had only been fun when his true self was still in the Nightmare Realm and the part of him in captivity had been a projection made of light, dreams, and lethal doses of radiation. Plus, that had been before he really, truly knew what it was like to be a captive. Now, the thought of being hauled back to that interrogation room—with the cheap metal chairs and gray floor and gray walls and stark sharp light—made him nauseous. The idea of being questioned about himself by some arrogant buzzkill in a suit sounded too much like therapy for comfort.
And it would be so much easier for them to keep him from escaping when he was weighed down by flesh.
Nobody was protecting Bill. The Pines weren't above throwing him under the bus if they thought it might save their precious little family from arrest. There was nothing for it. If he wanted to save himself—he had to help.
"Listen," Bill said. "I have an idea. It's iffy, and it'll require you all to trust me a bit..." He paused to give them an opportunity to laugh.
Only Stan chuckled. Good enough for Bill. "But, it might be our best shot."
"Okay," Ford said warily. "What is it."
"Bear with me," Bill said. "I bet I could get the head agent off our case by flirting with him a little."
And that time they laughed at him.
Bill patiently waited. "Okay, okay, ha ha, but the guy's been leering at me the last two days. Ask Wendy, she's the one who noticed! And do you know what his love life looks like? Because I do. Woof. Dry as a bone. That man's married to his work! He's lonelier than Elvis is!"
"Wait," Ford said. "What does that mean? Where's Elvis?"
"Not important. The point is, he's a soft target, he's already into this—" he gestured disdainfully at his human body, "and he's got the loosest lips in the eagles. I make a little small talk, I compliment his mustache and pretend I think working for the government is attractive, I keep him too dazzled to notice what's right in front of his face..." Bill trailed off. "And... that's as far as I've gotten. We'll figure it out as we go! Maybe I just distract him too much to do his job, maybe I strangle him in the bathroom and sell his body parts to half a dozen inhuman vendors in the Crawlspace, I don't know! I'll improvise!"
"It's barely half a plan," Ford said.
"It's the biggest fraction of a plan we have. What do we have to lose?"
"I think he might be on to something," Stan said. "I mean, consider it. Bill's an objectively beautiful woman."
The room stared at him. Bill flipped up his eyepatch to double his stare.
"What! It's just a fact!"
"Aww, Stan." Bill laced his hands together coquettishly and batted his lashes.
"Save it."
"Stanley. I had no idea you felt that way about me—"
"Can it, Cipher! " Stan curled a fist threateningly. Bill winked at him. Stan shuddered. "Eugh. Physical attraction's only gonna carry you so far, demon! Can you attract a man when you're talking to him? Because personally, I find you less appealing every time you open your mouth—and you were in the negatives the first time we met."
Bill thought about that. Bill thought about all his human cultists. Bill thought about all his human cultists whom he'd caught having scandalous dreams about endless staring eyes and cool black hands that buzzed with static and being fully exposed before the golden glory of an ever-watching false sun. Bill thought about that one time he tried to ask one of his sects to at least invite him to his own wedding and wait for him to RSVP before symbolically marrying more cult novitiates to him and they sorta nodded and said "okay" and then went and wedded him to another dozen Cipherwives anyway. "Yeah! Sure! No problem! I attract humans all the time! They can't get enough of this!"
"Okay, but can you attract a human that isn't into freaky space triangle things?"
Bill tapped his index fingers together thoughtfully. "Ummm..."
####
1981
A clubber eyed the hands of the man sitting at the bar beside him.
The man noticed the look and turned toward the clubber, grinning too wide, staring at him with yellowish slitted eyes that seemed to flash in the dim light like a cat's. "Yeah, I know." He drummed his fingers on the bar top. "Six fingers."
The clubber flinched at being caught staring. "Oh—sorry."
"Don't be! It's a built-in conversation starter!" The six-fingered yellow-eyed man laughed. "Hey! Have you ever had six fingers before?"
"Uhh," the clubber said. "Nnno?"
"Would you like to?" The man winked with both eyes, one at a time.
The clubber frowned at him in confusion, and then slowly turned away without answering.
####
"Sure," Bill cheerfully lied. "No problem!"
####
There was a knock on the attic bedroom door. Mabel opened it.
Stan and Ford stood in the doorway with a sulky Bill in between them. Stan pushed Bill into the room and said, "Teach him how to flirt."
Mabel gasped in delight.
####
(Well that took way later than I wanted it to—but it's finally out.
Head's up, I've got two zine deadlines that take priority, my workload triples at the end of the year, and I'm currently preparing the house to welcome home a new baby*, so we might skip next week's chapter. Hopefully not, though; I'd hate to start the new year that way. We'll see.
*it's a snake. the new baby is a boa constrictor.
Let me know what y'all think! I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts.)
#bill cipher#human bill cipher#gravity falls#gravity falls fic#gravity falls fanart#fanart#my art#my writing#bill goldilocks cipher#(Edit: 'oh i did SUCH a good job remembering to draw Young Ford's hair' says artist who hasn't yet noticed the art has Old Ford's eyebrows)#(fixed now)
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Dating or Not Dating?
Pairing: Lee Heeseung x f. reader
Genre: Fake dating, best friends to lovers, fluff, subtle angst, romance
Warning: Explicit language, smut
Synopsis: You don’t answer your friend’s call because you’re hanging out with Lee Heeseung, your guy best friend, whom you haven’t seen since you were nine.
Too occupied with the video game you're playing and since your guy best friend is using your phone anyway, you ask him to text your friend for you.
He sends a message saying, "She can’t talk right now. What’s up?" which makes her freak out and ask lots of questions.
Your lack of response leads her to interrogate your other friends—now they think you're dating someone.
Taking advantage of your friends’ confusion, you wonder: What’s the worst that could happen if you randomly soft-launch your guy best friend to get a reaction out of them?
Word Count: 2,545
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆ ˚ °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ⋆⭒˚。
You suddenly became the topic of discussion among your friends in the days following you posted a picture of Heeseung on your Instagram story.
They didn’t necessarily believe that you suddenly had a boyfriend, since you’re always open with them about what's going on in your life.
It also seemed unlikely that you would start dating someone without first telling your friends how much you like them.
However, your friends bought it, using your recent absence due to illness as an excuse and a canvas for their imagination.
You kept quiet, hiding your amusement as they speculated and came up with absurd conclusions for your recent absence.
They also started examining the picture you posted, trying to figure out who it was.
Suddenly, you were glad Heeseung turned away just as you took the picture. Although his side profile was visible, your friends wouldn’t have a clue who he was since you became friends with them a year after he already moved away.
As school ended, your friends began leaving the campus.
They asked if you'd like to come to the mall, but you declined, saying you had somewhere else to be.
On any normal occasion, you’d head straight to your car.
Today, however, you stayed at the entrance of your university, leaving your friends puzzled.
Soon, it dawns upon them that you’re getting picked up.
You wave goodbye to them as you head over to Heeseung’s car that’s just pulling up.
You couldn’t help but laugh at their shocked expressions as you get in Heeseung’s car.
Wanting to get more reactions out of them, you give Heeseung a peck on the cheek before buckling yourself in.
As Heeseung drives off, you glance back at your friends, who are now exchanging looks and trying to make sense of what they’d just witnessed.
•••
Back at your place, you and Heeseung spend the rest of the day hanging out in your bedroom.
While Heeseung plays video games on your PC, you're contemplating how this whole fake dating idea will play out.
"Hee, do you think our idea will work?" you ask, beginning to doubt your spontaneous plan of soft-launching him on your socials before revealing to your friends who your boyfriend is.
"I don't see why not. Your friends already believe you have a boyfriend—especially now that they saw a glimpse of us together earlier in my car.
The worst-case scenario is we stop, and you tell them the truth, saying it was a joke all along."
With truth in his words, you remain quiet, choosing to silently ponder the outcome of this whole thing.
Not liking your state of overthinking, you distract yourself by watching him get his third kill in his game.
Your eyes wander to his wide eyes, twinkling with concentration. His bottom lip is tucked beneath his teeth, and his hands skillfully click the keys on your keyboard.
The way the computer screen illuminates his figure stirs something in you.
On any other occasion, his matching pajama pants with you and the random shirt he's wearing would have you laughing and teasing him about how silly he looks. But the way they perfectly fit his body has you hitching your breath and swallowing your nervousness.
As if sensing your stare, Heeseung looks at you when his game ends.
He removes the headphones from his head and makes his way to you.
Before you can move to make space for him on your bed, he quickly shifts and hovers above you, holding himself just above your lying figure with his arms.
Him playfully trapping you beneath his arms is common, yet the way he cages you in this time feels different.
You look up at Heeseung, who stares down at you with adoration.
"What's wrong, Hee?" you ask, curiosity etched into your furrowed brows.
He's quiet as he observes every delicate detail on your face.
You stare up at him as his eyes trail from your eyes and down to your lips.
You let out a surprise gasp when he suddenly kisses you, and let out more similar noises when you feel him press his body against yours.
You feel the bulge in his pants become more prominent, and you subconsciously start moving your hips to meet his light thrusts against your core.
While your hand is tangled up in his hair, his own hand is against your cheek keeping it steady so he can slide his tongue into your mouth.
As you let him explore your mouth, a little voice in your head reminds you that friends don't kiss. Friends don’t shove their tongue down each other’s throats, and friends especially don’t have their hands exploring one another’s body as if their life depended on it.
So ever since you and Heeseung agreed to fake date, have you been able to call one another just friends?
Heeseung pulls away from the kiss first.
His eyes mirror your lustful gaze as his eyes trail down to your chest.
At the sight of your erect nipples poking through your shirt, his eyes darken and a smug smile is plastered across his lips.
He makes direct eye contact with you while lowering his head down to kiss each of your breasts, savouring the soft feeling he’s met with.
He eyes the hem of your shirt and bunches it up in his hand.
“Sit up for me quickly, angel,” Heeseung asks you while kissing your cheek.
You do as he says, lifting your arms up as well to let him take your shirt off.
Not liking how you’re the only one exposed, you ask him to take his own shirt off as well.
Catching Heeseung by surprise, you latch your legs around his waist and flip the both of you around so he's laying down and you’re straddling him from the top.
You peck his lips before showering his neck and collar bone with feather light kisses.
Your hand gets busy exploring every inch of his exposed skin.
When you reach his chest and abdomen, you drag your fringes across them teasingly.
Heeseung shudders at your touch, instantly gripping your wrists in warning of the game you’re playing.
Growing up together, you’ve come to learn all his sensitive spots. When you were younger, you exploited that knowledge to tickle him when he wasn’t expecting it; now, you use it to get the reactions you so badly want from him.
You smile teasingly at him while your fingers move lower until they reach the band of his sweatpants.
Slowly, you pull it down along with his boxers, making his hardened dick spring out onto his stomach.
With your fingertip, you trace the prominent veins along his length and swipe over his red, sensitive tip that’s already spilling precum.
You smile to yourself, knowing you're the cause of his uneven breathing and trembling body—both the result of anticipation.
While kissing up his body once more, you notice the silver necklace dangling around his neck.
You pull on the angel charm that’s attached to bring his lips to yours. At the same time, you wrap your fingers around his length.
He’s already wet from precum, but he’s not as slick as you want him to be.
You pull your lips away from Heeseung, a string of saliva following you as you hover your face above his.
“Sit up and spit on your dick for me, baby.” You ask Heeseung sweetly while stopping your strokes along his length.
He does what you ask, though biting his lip and leaning his head back in amusement immediately afterward, since it's not quite registering in his brain that you, his best friend, could ever say such words.
You’ve been shy since you were young—you spoke shyly, too. But now that you're both older, it’s clear that some things have changed.
Heeseung watches how his precum and spit smear all over his length as you move your hand up and down.
He lets out a subtle groan when you lower your head, kissing his tip teasingly before licking down his length to reach the base of his dick.
You take him in your mouth, bobbing your head slowly while using your hand to jerk off the rest of his length that couldn’t fit in your mouth.
He fits your mouth perfectly. Each thrust has his dick hitting the back of your throat, where Heeseung praises you with compliments that have you moaning around his dick as a result of making him feel good.
You look up to see his chest heaving desperately. Wanting to make him feel even better, you go to pick up your pace when Heeseung suddenly stops you.
“Come up here, pretty,” he says out of breath.
He watches as you release him from your mouth, then holds out his hand to help you move up to his lap.
You lift yourself up so Heeseung can remove your shorts and underwear.
You place one hand on his shoulder for stability, and the other around his length to line it up with your entrance.
You glide his tip along your pussy, grinding your hips simultaneously to cover his dick in your arousal.
Slowly you slip his tip inside and move yourself down until his dick is halfway in. His thickness and length has you stopping abruptly to get used to his size.
While you tilt your head back in pleasure, Heeseung’s breath hitches as he gets accustomed to your tightness.
You bring your other hand to his shoulder just as Heeseung squeezes your plush thighs to stop him himself from cuming too quickly.
Once you’ve lowered yourself completely on his length, Heeseung’s hand moves up to feel the prominent bulge on your stomach.
He looks into your eyes and asks smugly, “Am I too big for you, angel?”
You nod, closing your eyes and biting your lip to contain the lustful moans daring to spill from your lips.
He laughs softly at your reaction before kissing down your neck to the swell of your breasts.
His tongue circles around one of your nipples while his hand fumbles with the other.
Heeseung picks up on your approaching release, moving his hand from your breast to your clit.
You let out a surprised moan at the same time that your thighs jerk from his sudden movements.
“I’m close, baby,” you tell Heeseung.
Your eyes roll back when you feel him thrust his hips up to meet your bounces.
“Me too, angel,” Heeseung replies before kissing you on the lips.
He grips your hips tightly, keeping you steady as he thrusts faster to reach your desired orgasms.
His grip on your thighs leave red pleasurable marks that have you biting your lip and digging your nails into his skin.
At the sounds of your headboard banging against the wall and your skin slapping together, you’re brought over the edge simultaneously.
You let out an obscene moan as Heeseung fills your pussy to the hilt with his cum.
After bouncing on his dick one last time, you lie your body against his.
You and Heeseung lie in silence, both catching your breath and coming down from your high.
Heeseung gently massages the skin he marked while also pressing soft kisses on your shoulder and neck.
“Wait here for a second," Heeseung whispers softly in your ear, lifting you off him and onto the bed so he can stand.
He walks over to your ensuite bathroom and turns on the faucet in your bathtub. You watch as he waits for the tub to fill up with water before adding your favourite bath products.
Heeseung walks over to you and lifts you into his arms. He carries you to the bathroom and gently places you in the bathtub. Afterward, he climbs in with you.
You sit still, allowing him to smother soap all over you–letting his original plan of cleaning you both up work for a bit.
Once he feels your ass grinding against him and your hand slowly trailing down to his length, all of his previous plans vanish as he responds to your smutty motions just beneath the water’s surface.
•••
You wake up the next morning on top of Heeseung’s sleeping figure.
Your arms are loosely wrapped around his shoulders, his hands gripping your waist, and your legs are intertwined with his.
Looking up slightly to see Heeseung’s face, you can’t help but trace the outlines of his features.
You drag your finger from his soft, wavy black hair to the outline of his ear, then down his jaw and chin. Your eyes shift to his lips, and you can’t help but touch them softly, too.
Heeseung stirs awake from your movements, and his eyes slowly flutter open.
He tenses, his brows furrowing for a second, wondering who is touching him. He only relaxes when he sees that it’s you.
“Morning, pretty,” Heeseung says, his voice raspy. He smiles at you before grasping your hand and pulling it from his face to place it on the pillow beside him.
With the same hand, he gently holds your face and gives you a soft kiss on your lips.
You return it, but with urgency, propping yourself to sit upright afterward.
“What's wrong?” Heeseung asks, concern filling his voice at your sudden change in mood.
Your back straightens, and your eyes wander around the room—a nervous habit you have that Heeseung knows all too well about.
He brings his hand to your exposed leg, running his thumb back and forth on your thigh encouragingly.
“About last night...that was a mistake. Friends don’t have sex—hell, best friends don’t either! We also can't blame it on the fact that we're dating because our relationship is fake.” You explain to him.
Silence meets you, and you keep your head down, staring at his hand, too nervous to look up at him.
While your mind races with the worst possible outcomes, Heeseung interrupts your train of thought by holding your chin and making you face him.
“Look at me, angel.”
Your eyes flicker to his, meeting his solemn stare.
"You're right, we took things a bit too far considering this is just a fake relationship.
But what if I don’t want it to be fake? I enjoyed our intimate moment, and surely, so did you." Your flushed cheeks give him an answer, making him smile fondly at you.
With his voice soft and his face much closer to yours, he admits,
"I’ve spent so long hiding the fact that I like you. You gave me the opportunity to be your boyfriend these past couple of weeks—even if it’s been fake—and I took it!
I cherished you, took you on dates, gave you gifts, and showed you off to my friends and family just like a real boyfriend would." He pauses, his eyes searching yours for a reaction.
"I want to call it quits on our little game. I no longer want to be your boyfriend just for the sake of our fake dating agreement, but rather your boyfriend in an actual relationship, so I can officially call you mine."
"So what do you say? Are you in?" Heeseung asks, staring intently at you.
When he sees a smile slowly grow on your lips, he lets out a smile of his own.
"I’m in."
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"Hey, did you bring the chips?" The princess asks as the door opens. She turns around, surprised that the squeaking of metal on metal is not an indication of Sir Lancelot.
No, it's someone else.
Princess Petunia knows what this new knight is probably thinking. Here, the room is a circular space made of stone. There's soft carpeting under the table, a nice shade of turquoise. For no other reason than all three of them enjoyed the colour of the ocean.
In the nearby room, the kitchen, is Drake, working on frosting the chocolate cake. Petunia tried, repeatedly, to tell him that making sure the chocolate roses looked identical to real roses was useless.
Drake had only taken that as a challenge, and switched to making white chocolate roses. Red roses. Violet roses.
"Who are you?" Petunia asks, setting down the three goblets for the punch. A punch she attempted to make, but Drake ended up taking over, stating that her ability to decorate the punch bowl was absolutely abhorrent, and he best do it himself.
Petunia, with her gorgeous brown hair, is wearing it in a single braid down her back. She, herself, with her sparkling brown eyes, is wearing a simple tank-top and skirt. Really, she can't stand the formal dresses her father, the king, attempts to make her wear.
But here, this is just supposed to be between her, Lancelot and Drake.
Drake and Lancelot spent their very little free time making her outfits she could comfortably fight in. It makes it that much easier to re-enact their in-game fights.
"Princess," the strange knight comments, jaw dropping at the sheer lack of... well, prisoner status. "I've been sent to rescue you?"
He ends it with a question, as if he's not really sure if rescuing is the true aim of the game.
Petunia leans against the table, staring at the stranger. "And your didn't bring the chips, either," she sighs, looking a bit sad. She glances back towards the kitchen, then stares down the new knight. "Where's Lancelot?"
"He's failed to prevent your kidnapping," the stranger explain. His name finally hits the Princess' memory. Gavin. Sir Gavin. "He was thrown into the dungeons."
Petunia freezes, panic etched on her seemingly flawless skin. She looks back at the kitchen once more, wincing.
"Is that where the dragon rests?" Gavin inquires, stepping towards the kitchen door.
"No, wait, please, don't!" Petunia shouts, but Gavin, clearly on a quest, continues to move forward.
In fact, he disappears through the stony arch, and Petunia quickly runs after him.
"Hey Lancey, it took you longer than it normally does!" Drake calls excitedly, reaching into the oven without an oven mitt. "Did something happen?"
"That's not Lancelot," Petunia calls out as a warning.
Drake lifts his head out of the oven, and does a double take.
Gavin also does a double take. Most would have expected a dragon to look... well, dragon-y. Especially considering he constantly manages to steal the Princess.
But about a year ago, the three of them, Petunia, Lancelot and Drake discovered they enjoyed playing board games. Especially since, on his first rescue mission, he walked into the other room to discover Drake and Petunia playing a game of chess.
That evening devolved into a discussion of what game is the best. And an agreement to play more often.
Drake's hair is short and black. His eyes are also a brown colour, but almost a reddish yellow brown. As if the fire from his very core still burns through him.
His skin is normal, tanned like many of the farmers in the fields.
A human form, making it easier for Drake to craft beautiful creations and play wonderful games.
Gavin raises his sword, his blonde hair kept surprisingly long, also kept in a braid. His blue eyes look confused, but they narrow quickly after, determined to defeat the beast in front of them.
"Are you here to play Dungeons and Dragons?" Drake asks, placing his hands on his hips, staring at the knight like he's an annoyance. "When's Lancey coming?"
A nickname that Drake once gave Lancelot. One that only those our their circle accept.
"Lancey has been arrested for failure to protect the Princess. Now, I know he's a traitor, committing treason by assisting in her kidnapping!" Gavin declares, lunging forward.
Drake's skin suddenly shifts, coating itself in a layer of blue and white scales, like the sky on a slightly cloudy day.
The sword bounces off the scales, falling onto the open oven door. Gavin screams in pain as he tries to use the oven door to push himself back onto his feet.
Drake effortlessly picks up the knight, tossing him against the nearby wall. "Huh, I guess we'll have to go rescue him, Petunia," Drake comments, looking over at the Princess. He frowns at her.
"What?" She demands.
"You'll have to change. We can't rescue Lancelot if you're obviously the Princess," Drake informs her.
Petunia sighs. "What should I wear?"
Drake leans back slightly, still keeping a casual eye on the knight, his skin once more a human shade. "There's some armour in the armoury. Try the box labelled with your name. They were supposed to be a surprise to make the game more immersive, but..." Drake trails off.
Petunia nods. "I'll be right back."
While the Princess goes to fetch the armour, Drake turns to the knight. "Now, what should we do with you, hm?" He asks, the kitchen suddenly growing a tad smokey.
Gavin scrambles to his feet, although using the wall behind him for some extra weight. He reaches for a smaller dagger, kept in his foot in case his main sword goes missing. "I shall kill you!" He declares.
Drake rolls his eyes, looking a tad amused. "Darling, I could roast you and eat you for dinner, if I felt like it. I'm just wondering if you're willing to play the games with us, or if we need to deal with you permanently."
"I'd like to see you try!" Gavin taunts, pushing off the wall, taking a few steps towards Drake.
"Hm..." Drake hums, as if weighing his options. He snaps, a grin spreading over his human-like face. "You know what, we'll tie you up. Then, when we have Lancelot back, we can decide what to do with you."
"You'll all be wanted by the crown!" The knight shouts, charging once more.
And once more, Drake's skin changes to the scales. The knight, once more, can't land the hit and lands on the ground.
Drake effortlessly scoops up the knight, now weaponless, and ties him up in both ropes and chains. Then, he starts to drag Gavin back to the game room.
"Oh, Drake. Are you sure that's a good idea?" Petunia asks, looking a tad concerned.
It's hard to tell who the concern is for.
"You're both traitors!" Gavin shouts.
Petunia's face changes from concern to anger. "Are you sure you didn't want to just drop him from the skies?"
Drake huffs out a laugh. "I'm getting the sense we're all about to go on the run, Petunia. Might be best if we let him live, no?"
Petunia sighs, the concerned look back once more. "If he escapes first..." she trails off.
"I know, I know," Drake waves her off. "Help me put him in my unbreakable box."
"Your un..." Petunia trails off as Drake motions to the wardrobe. "Right, sure," she forces a smile, heading over to it and opening the door.
Drake drags the knight, still cursing and shouting, and places him in the wardrobe. There, Petunia shuts the doors, and Drake turns the lock.
"There, now he'll have to stay put for the next few hours. Shall we?" Drake asks, looking over one of his best friends, offering her a hand.
"Always," Petunia grins, taking it.
Drake runs for the door to the balcony. They exit onto it, and there, Drake takes a few steps away, pulling off his clothes and turning into a massive dragon. Fortunately, this balcony was built with Drake's size and weight in mind, and Petunia climbs onto his back.
"For Lancelot!" She cheers.
Drake pushes off, roaring and shooting flames into the sky, which can only be described as echoing 'For Lancelot'.
Because no one, and I mean no one, comes between best friends, and especially not their game night.
The princess, the dragon and the knight are actually good friends and meet regularly for a game night under the guise of her being kidnapped and the knight rescuing her, only this time the king sends a different knight, after the previous knight failed to prevent another "kidnapping".
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UNRAVEL — chapter two
paige bueckers x azzi fudd
tw: minimal swearing
themes: fluff, angst, little jealousy
word count: 6.1k
a/n: oh my goodness i’m in love with this chapter! i’m obsessed with this concept and them in general, so so cute my babies fr 🫶 please lemme know how u like it, feedback, etc. also if u wanna be on the tag list, tell me please! enjoy reading my lovelies 𝜗𝜚
the familiar ringtone echoes in azzi’s quiet room, pulling her from her consuming thoughts. she swipes to answer the facetime, and there was paige, her face glowing on the screen. her blonde hair was thrown in a messy ponytail, with a couple strands left loose, framing her face.
“hey!” azzi smiles in the phone, “i was wondering if you’d call.”
“sorry, practice ran longer than usual,” paige explains, her heart quickening at the sight of the brunette.
“typical. you need a break, p,” azzi says, voice laced with concern.
“nah, it’s all good. coach just wants to push me ‘til i reach my ‘full potential,’” she quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes playfully.
“you’re already the best, though,” azzi notes, scrunching her eyebrows downward.
paige tries furiously to fight off her blush, quickly covering her cheeks with her palms. “you’re the best, az.”
azzi simply rolls her eyes at the comment— she attempts to ignore the swirling feeling erupting in her stomach, unsure what they mean.
“i miss hanging out so much,” azzi whispers, leaning herself back against her bed. “i miss you.”
“i miss you more,” paige replies, sharing a similar look of longing.
“how long has it been since we’ve seen each other? like, seven months?” azzi asks, prompting her elbows up.
paige nods as she pulls her lips into a straight line. she doesn’t let azzi know how much she thinks about her, how much she desperately wishes she was near every moment of every day. god, she would do anything to be close to her favorite person right about now.
the two girls continue their conversation, filled with collective laughter and buzzing energy radiating off them. amy, paige’s mother, peaks her head in her daughter’s room, observing paige throw her head back, chuckling at something azzi had said moments prior. she silently smiles to herself— she’s never seen paige like this before, being so consumed by a person, let alone her so called best friend. she automatically knew there was something more, something paige wouldn’t allow herself to admit.
when paige and azzi eventually end the facetime, after talking for about three hours back and forth, paige immediately knows what she needs to do. she pushes herself up off her bed, rushing out of her dark room, jogging until she reaches her mother’s room, where amy is sitting peacefully, with a book in her hands.
“mom,” paige says, “i need to ask you something.”
amy adverts her eyes to her daughter, who’s practically bubbling with anticipation. “what is it, paige?”
“before you say no, please just know it’ll make me the happiest girl in the world,” the blonde pleads, “i was wondering if maybe.. i could go visit azzi.”
amy turns her knowing smirk away from her daughter with her book, which she eventually closes and sets down in her lap. “and when would you do that?”
“i don’t know, preferably really soon.”
amy takes a moment to carefully consider paige’s words, yet she already knows her answer. for months, all paige would talk about is azzi. how talented she is at basketball, stories she shared on facetime, how much she misses hanging out with her— how much she misses her, in general.
the corner of amy’s lips tug into a small grin, already anticipating her daughter’s reaction. “i guess that’s fine.”
the young girl lets out a squeal before running up to her mother, pulling her into a tight embrace. “thank you, thank you, thank you!”
“we need to discuss the details first,” amy reminds her while she pats her back.
“of course! but i don’t wanna tell azzi— i was thinking kinda like a surprise visit,” paige replies, eyes sparkling with excitement.
as she pulls away, amy catches the light in her daughter’s eyes— an unmistakable blend of pure joy and determination. “that sounds fun. when do you want to go?”
“maybe next weekend, if that’s okay with you? and azzi’s parents, duh,” paige suggests, eagerly.
the lingering smirk on amy’s face widens, the warmth of paige’s enthusiasm wrapping around her. “alright, that’s fine by me. i’ll give katie a text.”
paige plops a kiss on her mother’s cheek to indicate how grateful she is. “thank you so much, mom. i’m so excited.”
“i know you are,” amy glances at the blonde.
as paige walks out of the room, amy watches her with a mix of affection and a touch of nostalgia, realizing how important this trip is for her daughter. how important azzi is to her. she knows it’s more than just a visit; it’s filled with friendship, growth, and a chance for something deeper to blossom.
several days pass, yet paige’s excitement to visit azzi only heightens. she can hardly believe she’s going to be with azzi in a matter of days, counting down the hours like a child waiting for a holiday.
every minute feels charged with anticipation. she’s been spending her evenings planning out the trip, jotting down all the things her and azzi could do together— basketball drills, movie nights, anything, really, as long as they’re by each other’s sides.
luckily, days prior, azzi’s parents were kind enough to agree, allowing paige into their home for a couple of days.
as the day of her departure approaches, paige packs up her bag, triple-checking to avoid leaving anything behind she might need. she grabs her bathroom necessitates— skincare products, toothbrush, floss, toothpaste— as well as a couple of causal, cozy outfits. she also stuffs in some smaller items, like her phone charger, deodorant, wallet, body spray.
once paige is all packed and ready to go, amy grabs her car keys, preparing to make the drive to the airport. no matter how many times amy suggested she comes with her, paige insisted she goes by herself— wanting to experience traveling alone for the first time.
paige slugs her duffel over her shoulder, slowly making her way out of the house and into the car. she pulls on her seatbelt, eager to feel the thrill of independence, but also eager to see her best friend for the first time in months.
the drive to the airport feels like it lasts forever, her anticipation growing beyond limits. however, she relishes every moment, imagining azzi’s face when she sees her.
“are you positive you don’t want me to go with you?” amy questions her daughter, throwing a swift glance her way.
paige nods lightly, “yeah, mom, i’m sure. i need to travel alone eventually.”
“i understand that, but you’re only 16, paige. it’s dangerous,” amy notes, concern laced in her tone.
“people my age fly by themselves all the time— it’s no big deal.”
amy lets out a soft sigh, “alright, if you say so. but please be careful, and stay with them the entire time— no funny business.”
paige rolls her eyes, “mom, i’m literally going there just for azzi. why would i leave?”
amy shrugs, “i don’t know, but you’re a teenager, who knows what y’all do.”
paige chuckles, a grin appearing on her face, “it’ll be good, trust me.”
the two grow silent, listening to the rhythmic beat of the music playing from the radio. paige’s gaze lingers on the window as her imagination runs free. she can’t wait to be close to azzi— to hug her, feel her warmth against her own frame. more importantly, she can’t wait to simply talk with her, in person. azzi seems to get paige, to understand her, better than anyone else in her life. she understands how she’s feeling— she even lets her rant on and on, listening to every word of her nonsense. paige and azzi’s friendship made them think so similarly, basically the same people at this point. the two practically live in each other’s skin with how well they know one another.
regardless of being long distance, paige and azzi’s friendship has remained well in tact. they facetime everyday, talking for hours on end, or until one of them falls asleep on call. each conversation they have feels like a lifeline, bridging the gap between their separate lives.
as the car finally rolls closer to the destination, paige feels a rush of energy and nerves. she can’t help but think what if things are different? she shakes her head, dismissing her doubts. deep down, she’s confident their bond will remain strong even after not seeing each other for months.
“are you ready to go?” amy asks, glancing over at her daughter once she parks the car.
“more than ready,” paige smiles, voice filled with determination.
the mother and daughter pair stroll into the airport, paige with her duffel bag loosely in her grip, and amy walking alongside her.
paige’s mother helps her get through security and everything she might require help for, and before she knows it, it’s time to board the plane.
“remember to call me as soon as you land,” amy squints her eyes, a hint of motherly concern in her tone.
paige playfully rolls her eyes back, “you know i will,” she assures her, “thanks, mom.”
with a final hug, paige steps out of her mother’s tight hold, gathers her belongings and begins walking over to the appropriate gate. the airport is bustling with activity, people going in and out at a rapid pace. yet, all paige can think about is azzi.
she boards the plane with no issues and eventually gets situated and comfortable in her seat. luckily, she has a window spot with nobody sitting directly next to her.
as the aircraft takes off, she gazes out the window, watching the ground fade away beneath her. she tries her best to contain her excitement, but the thought of being with azzi only fuels it further.
the few hours paige is on the plane, she takes the time to relax, watch a movie or two, and eventually heads to sleep peacefully. however, shortly after falling asleep, she stirs awake at a sudden shake of the plane.
she takes a deep, steady breath as the plane carefully lands at its designated runway. she feels a rush of relief crash over her once she realizes she’s made it safely to virginia. the sound of seatbelts unbuckling and the conversations of passengers fills the previous silence of the plane. she takes a moment to gather her things, heart racing as she is getting closer and closer to seeing her best friend.
paige takes the time to give a quick call to her mother, assuring her she’s alright and has made it to virginia safely.
with her heavy duffel thrown over the shoulder of the blonde, she scans the crowd, looking for the familiar faces of azzi’s parents, katie and tim. just as she spots tim, he waves enthusiastically, a wide smile plastered on his face. they previously agreed to come pick her up, which made paige feel much more welcomed.
“hey paige,” katie tilts her head, observing the young girl who continues to radiate eagerness.
“hello mrs. fudd,” paige lips turn up, nerves still swirling in her stomach.
katie gives her a soft, fast hug around her shoulders, “please call me katie, you know this.”
paige lets out a small laugh, “right, sorry.”
tim and paige exchange a quick hug as well, welcoming one another. “how’ve you been, kiddo?”
paige shrugs, “pretty good. basketball is really crazy right now.”
“ah, same for azzi. poor girl barely has any time for anything outside of basketball,” katie notes.
“i know, she’s told me like a thousand times,” paige chuckles at the memory of azzi ranting on and on about her practices.
tim and katie share a knowing look, subtle smiles on their lips. the three walk through security, then off to their parked car outside. tim takes the drivers seat, while katie positions herself in the passenger spot. jose, azzi’s brother, is seated on the right side in the back, mindlessly scrolling on his phone, clearly bored out of his mind. paige takes the seat next to him on the left, and gently setting her bag at her feet.
“hey jose,” she says.
“what’s up,” jose looks up, a smile on his face.
a comfortable silence hangs in the car as they travel down the road. finally, katie speaks up. “azzi’s going to be so happy about this.”
“i sure hope so,” paige says, “i know i am.”
azzi’s parents laugh, glancing at one another once more. “she’s been talking about wanting to see you so much, i’m glad it’s finally happening.”
paige’s eyebrows shoot up, “she talks about me?”
katie looks at the blonde in the rear view mirror, “practically everyday, paige.”
“it’s so annoying— always going on and on about paige this, and paige that. she’s like, obsessed with you, i swear,” jose adds, breaking his silence.
katie gives her son a look as paige’s eyes widen. she figures he’s kidding— there’s no way azzi is obsessed with her, even though paige definitely is.
“actually?” paige whispers, eyeing the young boy.
jose nods rapidly, a flick of annoyance on his face. paige feels her cheeks redden at the thought, although she is still unbelieving.
the car comes to stop, indicating they’ve arrived at the fudd home. paige’s heart pounds in her heart, her purse quickening at an abnormal rate. she swings open the car door, flinging her stuffed bag over her shoulders once more.
“i’m so excited for her reaction,” tim laughs, eyes crinkling.
“me too,” paige says through her wide grin.
katie unlocks and opens the front door, revealing an unusual silence. paige scans the room, looking for her favorite curly headed brunette. she gently sets down her duffel next to the empty couch, still questioning where azzi is.
“she’s probably in her room,” katie speaks up.
paige nods, slowly inching down the hallway before reaching a door labeled ‘azzi.’ she smiles, because it’s just so azzi.
she opens the door quietly, heart racing once again. inside, the room is dimly lit, fairy lights casting a warm glow. paige takes a moment to admire the chaos— books piled high, notes scattered across her desk.
looking to the left, her eyes finally lock on the familiar face of her best friend, who’s currently engrossed in a novel with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, not bothering to look up. paige smirks at the sight of azzi like this.
“you’re such a nerd,” paige says, eventually announcing her presence.
azzi looks up and is immediately taken aback. her lips part as shock washes over here, not quite understanding how paige is here, in her house, in her room.
not wasting a moment, azzi throws her book down, allowing her blanket to flow to the ground. she rushes paige, yanking her into her embrace— her arms wrap tightly around her back, squeezing the life out of her, trying to convince herself this isn’t some sort of sick dream.
“how are you here?” azzi murmurs against the blonde’s frame, who’s holding her equally as tight.
“my mom agreed to let me come here, after i practically begged,” paige laughs, casually adjusting her hand to be placed on the small of azzi’s back, “your parents picked me up from the airport.”
azzi nuzzles her face against the crook of paige’s neck, “i missed you so bad.”
paige’s smile only grows, stepping back until both she and azzi are sitting on her bed, still wrapped in each others warmth. azzi couldn’t get enough of paige, her best friend, being so close like they haven’t seen one another in months.
“i missed you, az.”
the two girls finally pull away, settling in a comfortable silence, the weight of being separated still hanging in the air.
“i can’t believe you’re really here,” azzi whispers, eyes roaming the blonde’s face.
“me either,” paige whispers back, holding eye contact.
a moment goes by with the pair just looking at each other— paige can’t seem to find a singular flaw in the entirety of azzi’s face. she’s one of the most stunning girls she’s ever laid eyes on. the way her brown curls hang around her face perfectly, to her cute dark brown eyes full of admiration. she could stare at azzi for hours.
paige clears her throat, breaking the moment before it becomes too heavy. “so, what do you wanna do?” she asks, a look of longing still apparent on her expression.
“um..” she takes a moment to think, trying to get her mind off the blonde in front of her, “we can watch a movie?”
“that sounds nice,” paige nods, agreeing with the idea.
the two girls make themselves comfortable on azzi’s messy bed— azzi lays closer to the wall, while paige lays out besides her, not quite touching the younger girl.
paige and azzi settle on one of their favorites, the parent trap. paige lets out a soft yawn, trying to keep her exhaustion at bay— she doesn’t want to go to bed yet, considering how little she’s talked with azzi so far.
throughout the course of the movie, the girls make small talk, discussing their favorite parts of the movie and basketball related things. paige brings up an nba game, to which azzi rolls her eyes, not caring if it isn’t about steph curry.
“azzi, paige, dinner is ready!” katie yells from down the hall.
the pair is slow to get up, eventually pulling themselves from their positions on azzi’s comfortable bed. they make their way down the hall, fingers nearly brushing, but paige pulls away before any touch can occur— it’s not that she doesn’t want to, she does— it’s the fear that prevents paige from pushing for anything further.
azzi’s family, including paige, find their designated spots at the dinner table. paige naturally sits next to azzi, scooting her chair slightly closer to her best friend.
as they eat, barely any conversations develop, as they are solely focused on the food in front of them. it isn’t until tim speaks up does the silence break.
“so paige, any boyfriends we should know about?” he questions before taking another bite of food.
paige coughs, choking on her food at his sudden question. paige glances at the brunette next to her, who is shy to meet her gaze.
“um, no— no boyfriend for me,” paige politely smiles, quickly turning her attention back to her plate.
azzi shifts in her spot, adjusting her legs quietly. paige lets out a jagged breath, noticing the growing, slightly awkward silence.
“azzi has a boyfriend,” jon, one of azzi’s brother, smirks.
paige feels her heart skip a beat at his comment— she’s never thought to ask azzi about her love life, it simply was never a conversation they ever had.
“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi defends, throwing her younger brother a look. her lips pull into a line as she squirms in her seat.
paige’s gaze drag over azzi’s frame, her curiosity growing to an excessive amount. azzi briefly meets the blonde’s line of sight, a flash of vulnerability passing between them.
“really?” paige whispers, trying to keep her tone light despite the sudden tightness in her chest. “i didn’t know you were seeing someone.”
azzi fidgets, a mix of embarrassment and defensiveness swirling in her face. “it’s not serious or anything… we’re just hanging out,” she explains, her voice a bit quieter than usual.
as the meal wraps up, and the conversation flows between azzi and her family, paige can’t seem to shake the uneasy feeling in her chest. azzi has a boyfriend— well, a boy she’s hanging out with. she watches azzi laugh with her brothers, only intensifying the longing in her chest.
eventually, paige and azzi head back into azzi’s room; paige makes sure to widen their distance as the feeling from earlier still suffocates her. once inside, the familiar comfort settles around them again, but it feels different now, filled with unspoken words.
azzi flops on her bed, pulling a blanket, one of many, around her shoulders. “i’m so glad you’re here,” she says softly.
“me too,” paige murmurs, avoiding any sort of eye contact with the brunette.
a moment of silence stretches between them, the conversation from the dining table still making an impact. eventually, azzi breaks it, looking more serious than before. “is something wrong?”
paige looks at the ground, feeling embarrassed to be so upset over such a small thing. why is this having an effect on her? they’re best friends, not anything more.
“why didn’t you tell me about your boyfriend?” paige looks up, a hint of sadness in her tone.
“he’s not my boyfriend,” azzi repeats, but continues, “i don’t know, though. it’s nothing serious, so i figured it wasn’t really important.”
paige takes some time to digest azzi’s words. not long after does she reply, “i understand. i don’t think i’d tell you if i was seeing someone either.”
azzi’s lips scrunch, although she understands where the older girl is coming from. relationships, dating, any kind of love talk was unusual for them.
“what’s his name?” paige asks, trying to avoid anymore silence between them.
“jayden,” azzi smirks, eyes twinkling in the glow of light.
paige hums, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “jayden, huh? sounds… nice.”
azzi notices the slight tremor in paige’s voice, “yeah, he’s cool, i guess. we just hang out, like i said.”
“just hang out,” paige echoes, her mind racing with what that could entail. she bites her lip, trying to suppress the wave of emotion swelling within her. “what does that mean?”
azzi breaks eye contact, suddenly feeling embarrassed. “we talk, go to the mall, things like that,” she replies, her voice trailing off.
paige swallows hard, the weight of azzi’s words settling in, “but you like him?”
azzi hesitates, her fingers twist the fabric of the blanket that’s wrapped around her. “i mean.. maybe a little? i’m not in love with him, or anything.”
paige nods slowly, but the pit in her stomach doesn’t ease. “i see.”
more silence stretches between the two girls, unsure what to say next.
“are you… okay?” azzi asks, noticing paige’s change in mood.
paige flicks her head to look at azzi, “yeah, sorry— it just caught me off guard, y’know.”
azzi nods, understanding where she’s coming from. “i get that,” she whispers.
azzi turns back on the movie they were previously watching before getting interrupted for dinner, making herself more comfortable on her bed. paige lays out on a beanbag, not bothering to share the bed with the younger girl.
they watch the parent trap quietly, not wanting to force any conversation. eventually, night rolls around and the movie ends, the soft glow of the screen flickering out. azzi yawns and stretches, her eyes heavy with exhaustion.
“wanna call it a night?” she says, glancing at the clock.
paige nods, though she feels a pang of reluctance at the thought of leaving the comfort of their time together. “yeah, that sounds good.”
azzi smiles gently before gesturing to the empty space next to her on the bed. “you can come over here. there’s plenty of room, and much more comfortable than the beanbag.”
paige hesitates, wondering if the tension from their previous conversation still hangs. “you sure?”
“of course,” azzi assures her, her voice light and genuine.
with a sigh of relief, paige moves off the beanbag and shuffles over to the bed, where azzi lays fully under the covers. she settles in besides azzi, the warmth of her friend’s presence instantly soothing her. they lie side by side, yet the distance between the girls is evident.
paige adjusts her position, allowing herself to face azzi, although she’s turned towards the wall. she stares at the back of azzi’s head, thoughts still consuming her. her mind goes back and forth, wondering why it matters that azzi’s talking to a boy. she’s her friend, why does she care?
she tries to convince herself it’s something else, a reason that doesn’t involve any sort of feelings towards the girl in front of her. she takes a deep breath, focusing on the rise and fall of azzi’s shoulders instead. yet the truth lingers, unacknowledged and nagging.
paige stirs away, eyes pulling apart ever so slightly, just enough to glimpse at the brunette laying peacefully asleep next to her. it remains dark, telling paige it’s the middle of the night.
the older girl realizes the distance between them has shortened, making azzi only inches apart from herself. their legs are twisted together, while her hand is loosely on her forearm.
feeling bold, trying to ignore the speed of her pulse, paige gently intertwines her fingers with azzi’s. an innocent act of affection that feels natural— considering they’ve done it countless times before— yet it’s filled with more tension than before.
azzi shifts slightly, a light sigh escaping her lips, but she doesn’t fully wake. instead, she instinctively squeezes paige’s hand, a sleepy smile on her face.
paige swears she feels her heart skip a beat. “az,” she whispers, but azzi only moves closer, nuzzling deeper in her pillow.
with a gentle smirk, paige rubs her thumbs against azzi’s hand, feeling a comforting warmth spread between them. it feels perfect, their shared moment— paige tries desperately to ignore how much she enjoys touching azzi, regardless of how little holding her hand is.
as the world outside fades away, nothing but the sound of azzi’s soft breathing in the air, paige allows herself to relax, drifting off to sleep with a new sense of peace, knowing that they’re connected, even in the dark.
two days pass with paige staying with azzi, enjoying her company and wishing she could stay with her, forever. the laughter they share throughout the day and the quiet moments spent talking about whatever comes to mind, each day filled with a new layer of intimacy and admiration for the other. they walk hand in hand, convincing themselves every pair of friends casually do it, while they steal glances at each other, lingering just a minute too long.
as the third and final day of paige’s stay settles in, paige curls up in a blanket, positioned on azzi’s bed— the soft glow of the moon casting a silver light through the window. azzi has been unusually quiet the entire day, lost in her own consuming thoughts. paige sensed it ever since earlier, but hasn’t questioned her about it— as she drifts asleep, she silently hopes her best friend is doing alright.
around midnight, the soft sound of rustling pulls paige from her dreams. she painfully opens her eyes to see azzi crawling through the window, eyes red with tear stained cheeks. “azzi?” she whispers, her heart racing as she sits up, becoming highly alert.
azzi looks up, her eyes wide and glistening with fresh tears, “i’m sorry—“ she begins, voice shaky, “sorry for waking you.”
paige quickly moves until she reaches the brunette, pulling her down to sit on the bed, facing her. “what’s wrong, az? where were you?”
“i went to see jayden… he said he wanted to see me,” azzi whispers, shame laced in her voice, “he tried to kiss me and i panicked, so i pulled away. after that he kept saying mean things, like how he never liked me, how i’m not even pretty…”
paige swears she hears her own heart crack at the vulnerability of azzi’s words. without hesitation, she wraps her arms around azzi, pulling her close in a comforting manner. “i’m so sorry, az,” she mutters softly, feeling her friend’s body against hers, “you deserve to be treated so much better than that.”
azzi’s shoulders tremble as she leans further into paige’s grip, already feeling better with paige’s presence near. “i don’t know why i’m crying, i didn’t even like him that much. it’s just the things he kept saying…” she continues, letting out a small hiccup.
paige rubs her hand back and forth on azzi’s back, trying to soothe the girl. with this doing, azzi grows too consumed in how good it feels to be in the arms of paige.
paige pulls back slightly, just enough to view her face. “you are so special, azzi. please don’t let some boy make you feel any different.” with that, she leans in and kisses azzi’s forehead, her hands coming up to cradle her face. she drags her lips down to her cheeks, covering every inch of her face with soft, featherlike kisses. azzi’s heart lunges in her chest, feeling her pulse heighten with every kiss paige plants on her tear-stained face. when she places a final, longer kiss along her jaw, she looks up, “and for the record, he’s wrong for saying you’re not pretty. you’re fucking perfect, az.”
she sniffles, a small smile breaking through her now fading sadness.
when paige pulls away, azzi’s lips apart, wearing a hint of shock in her expression. her eyes roam the familiar blue ones that she loves all too much as tension hangs between them.
“please don’t leave tomorrow,” azzi shuts her eyes, dread of paige’s departure now overpowering her thoughts. she leans her head to touch paige’s shoulder, as her hands find their way to the blonde’s waist.
paige leans into the touch of the younger girl, not willing to admit how much she loves the feel of azzi’s hands on her body. “trust me, i don’t want to,” she replies quietly, her pulse racing at their closeness.
“then stay,” azzi attempts a smile, “stay here, with me. stay forever if you want.”
“you know i want to,” paige whispers, her voice thick with raw emotion.
azzi searches paige’s eyes, lost in her bright blue irises. her gaze drops to her lips for a brief moment, before meeting her eyes once more. paige shallows, feeling the tension fuel between them. before the blonde has time to react, azzi leans forward, connecting their lips in a soft, tender kiss. paige kisses her back, soaking up and savoring every second azzi’s lips are on hers.
the kiss dies out when azzi slowly, hesitantly pulls away, regardless of her brain screaming to continue. she takes her grip off paige’s waist, looking down nervously— did she screw everything up?
paige notices azzi’s face, clearly racked with anxiety. “it’s okay, az.” she gives her arm one last squeeze before the two girls crawl back into bed, creating some distance to avoid any further tension.
azzi soon drifts off, sleep overtaking her body after wearing herself out from all her crying. paige, however, lets her mind run free, questioning and worrying if something as little as a kiss they shared has the potential to ruin their friendship. will things change between them?
paige forces her eyes shut, trying to focus her energy on getting some rest. those attempts are useless, though— paige barely gets any sleep that night.
the morning arrives slowly for paige, considering the little amount of sleep she got throughout the night. sunlight creeps through the window, casting a gentle glow in the room. she blinks, adjusting her eyes to the light. realization that today is the day— the day she leaves azzi— sets in, making her breath hitch in her throat.
sitting up, paige glances at azzi, still soundlessly sleeping, her hair tousled in a such a perfect way. for a moment, paige allows herself to savor the sight, the way her best friend looks so serene, completely at ease.
with a heavy heart, paige gently nudges azzi. “hey, sleepyhead,” she whispers, keeping her voice light.
azzi stirs, blinking sleepily at paige. “what time is it?” she mumbles.
“eight in the morning,” paige replies, forcing a smile despite the tightening in her chest. “i have to pack.”
azzi eventually sits up, the remnants of last night’s emotions washing over her. she shifts, feeling the awkward tension arrive in the air. “you’re really leaving, aren’t you?”
“yeah. i wish i didn’t have to,” paige nods, shallowing hard.
azzi bites her lip, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. “me too, p.”
paige lets out a quiet sigh, trying to hold her heart from crushing in her chest.
paige spends the next few minutes silently packing up her duffel, wishing to god for one more day, here— with azzi, her azzi. she stuffs her toiletries into the pockets, alongside the outfits she previously packed. azzi watches, mentally preparing herself to watch her best friend leave, again.
“do you want help?” azzi asks.
paige shakes her head, trying to maintain her focus and continue packing. “no, i’ve got it. thanks though,” she answers.
as paige zips up her bag, the room feels suffocatingly quiet with all the unspoken words around them. “i hate this,” azzi whispers, voice thick. “i really don’t want you to go.”
paige turns to face her, the sight of azzi’s vulnerable side striking a chord deep within her. “neither do i,” she says, stepping closer, “it’s alright— i’ll come back eventually.”
“promise?” azzi’s eyes search paige’s, looking for the reassurance she so desperately needs.
“i promise, az,” paige says firmly, tone full of sincerity.
paige finishes up packing her bag, trying to drag her thoughts from overwhelming her brain completely. katie starts up the car as paige throws her duffel in, reality crashing down on her hard. azzi decides to join her for the car ride to the airport, wanting to stay with paige as long as she possibly can. the two girls climb into the backseat together, the tension in the air palpable.
as they drive towards the airport, the city flashing by, yet paige feels as if the time has slowed. her gaze trails azzi’s figure, who’s staring out the window, lost in thought. “you okay?” paige nudges her softly.
azzi shrugs, “it feels too real now,” she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.
“i know,” paige sighs, equally as quiet. she reaches for azzi’s hand, giving it a squeeze, capturing everything she wishes she could say.
they arrive at the airport— paige’s stomach curls just looking at the large doors, awaiting her entrance.
katie parks the car and the three step out into the chilling air, not bothering to make discussion. they roam into the airport; the sound of travelers and announcements fill the atmosphere, but all paige can focus on is azzi— azzi, who she’ll be leaving in a matter of minutes.
“let’s get you checked in,” katie suggests.
as they walk towards the terminal area of the airport, paige keeps the brunette closer, grabbing onto her arm to avoid loosing her in the crowd of people.
after successfully checking in, the moments of paige and azzi are limited. paige glances at her, her heart beating faster and faster. “i wish i could take you with me.”
“me too,” azzi whispers, attempting to smile at the blonde.
a couple of minutes pass with paige and azzi remaining close in distance, dreading the announcement of her broading. when it later comes, paige arises from her seat, as does azzi.
paige doesn’t wait to pull her friend into her arms, wrapping them around her frame. azzi clutches onto paige as if she’ll never see her again, squeezing her eyes closed, wishing she could stay like this forever— in paige’s arms, surrounded by her warmth.
they pull back, hands continuing to explore each others bodies in a friendly manner. paige’s blue eyes meet azzi’s brown ones, sharing a look of unspoken affection— fear, love, and an undeniable connection.
“i’ll miss you so much,” azzi reminds her, eyebrows pinching down.
“i’ll miss you more,” paige smiles, ignoring the knot in her stomach. “love you, az.”
azzi’s breath hitches in her throat, “i love you too,” she mutters, leaning in to place a long kiss on her cheek, cupping the back of her head for support.
paige turns, eyes finally tearing away from azzi as she begins walking to her gate. she glances back, finding azzi still watching her leave, looking as sad as she feels. she offers a wave and a small smile, in a way to let her know she’ll be back, when the time is right.
paige immediately pulls out her phone, not waiting a moment to text azzi.
just landed. i miss you already. can’t wait to see you again, she texts.
the response is quick: missing you loads more. facetime when you get home?
the corners of paige’s lips quirk up— obviously, she replies, excitement bubbling through her.
with a smile, paige tucks her phone away, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her. she knows she won’t be seeing azzi for a while— months, maybe more— but she knows their connection, their friendship can withstand the distance between them.
#azzi fudd#paige bueckers#pazzi#uconn wbb#paige x azzi#basketball#uconn huskies#fanfic#fan fiction#best friends#lovers#cuteness
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DRIVE ME CRAZY
Daniela Avanzini x reader
"You are the only person who can drive Daniela's car (besides her), and only she knows why"
Genre – fluff Warnings – none (request)
now playing - No Pole, by Don Toliver
Leaving the party, you had Daniela leaning on you, the Latina too drunk to stand. Manon was behind, holding on to her girlfriend, a little more sober than Daniela. You had the day off, and you took advantage of it to have some fun together.
"Yn, you can go with us if you want, you don't need to call an Uber, we'll drop you and Dani off at home" Manon says, her girlfriend nodding and agreeing.
"What? No, thank you guys, but we're going in Dani's car." You said, taking the keys out of your pocket, opening the passenger door and placing Daniela in the seat.
"But how is Dani going to drive? Is she drunk as hell?" Manon said, not even crossing her mind that you would drive.
"She's not driving, I'm going." You said, as if it were obvious. Manon's jaw dropped.
"Daniela lets you drive her car?" Manon asks in complete shock.
Daniela had never let anyone touch her car, Manon had tried more times than she could count and the blonde had always refused every time. Daniela considered that car her baby, the most precious treasure she had, the red car was simply treated better than many people.
"Yeah, why are you so surprised?" You asked, really confused as to why Manon was so surprised.
Manon didn't even bother to answer you, walking past and going straight to Daniela, you and Manon's girlfriend shrugging.
"Dani, look at me." Manon said, patting the Latina's face, who was almost asleep in the passenger seat. "You let Yn drive your car, but you didn't let me go to the mall that day?" Manon asked, receiving only a drunken smile from the blonde.
"My baby can drive my other baby." Daniela said, reaching up and giving Manon a little "boop" on the nose, laughing and throwing her head back on the seat.
Giggling, you twirled your girlfriend's car keys in your fingers, leaning close to the passenger door and checking to make sure Daniela didn't have any body parts outside the car before closing the door.
"Good night everyone, stay safe and drive carefully." You said, winking at Manon as you got into the car, starting it up and making the engine make a satisfying sound.
Manon was left with her jaw on the floor, only to be pulled out of her stupor by her girlfriend.
"Damn, she's so fucking charming."
Manon thought that was just an isolated incident, Daniela was drunk, that was the only reason you had the power to drive Daniela's car. She couldn't be more wrong.
You, the Kats, and the Kats' girlfriends were relaxing, all of you playing the monopole that Yoonchae had won from Manon. Daniela was starting to get hungry, and leaning over she rested her head on the chest of the woman who was sitting behind her.
"Baby, can you please go buy food?" Daniela asked, kissing your neck and smiling innocently.
Smiling at her, you placed your hand around her neck, bringing her in for a quick kiss, then standing up.
"Does anyone need anything?" You asked, taking Dani's car keys from her hand as she held it out to you.
"Oh, could you bring me-"
"Wait, wait, wait! Is that your car key? Didn't I see it outside?" Manon asked, making all the girls turn their attention to Yn.
"It's my car." Daniela says, shrugging as if it were obvious.
"Are you serious?" "Are you kidding?" "I can't believe this!" The voices were heard, all surprised, making Daniela raise an eyebrow and you become confused.
"Why are you so surprised?" Daniela says, looking at all the girls for answers.
"You don't let anyone drive your car!" Sophia said, making Manon point at her in agreement.
"THAT'S IT! I'VE BEEN SAYING THIS AND NOBODY LISTENS TO ME!" Manon says, jumping in her place on the floor, making her girlfriend try to calm her down a little.
"Guys, Yn is my girlfriend..." Daniela tried to end the discussion.
"WE ARE YOUR BEST FRIENDS!" All the girls screamed in leather.
"Yeah, but Yn looks sexy driving my car." Daniela said, looking at you and biting her lip ignoring the "ew" leather that was coming from the girls.
The road was empty, you had your left hand on the steering wheel and your left hand on Daniela's thigh, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Daniela's playlist played softly through the car speakers, and you were relaxed by the caresses Dani was giving the back of your head.
"I love seeing you like this..." Daniela said, looking at you and biting her lower lip.
"Like what?" You asked, even though you already knew what the Latina was talking about.
"Driving, all focused..." Daniela said, buckling her seatbelt and leaning in to kiss your jawline as you stopped at a red light.
"Dani... Get back to your seat, baby." You said, unconsciously lifting your head and exposing your neck for the blonde to kiss.
"But you look so sexy like this, I want to make you feel good." Daniela said, placing her hand on your cheek and pulling you into a hot kiss.
Your two tongues danced together, Daniela's lip gloss gave the kiss a good taste, your sighs could be heard, but the music drowned most of it out.
Startled by the horn that sounded behind you, you and Daniela quickly moved away, the blonde laughing while you shook your head, giving a little smile.
"We'll finish this when we get home." Daniela said, buckling her belt again and winking at you.
Well guys, requests are finally being taken!!!
if this has any errors, sorry, I brought my mom to the salon and I don't have my computer, so I wrote everything on my phone.
but, I hope you like it <3
xoxo, spider.
#katseye imagines#katseye x reader#kpop gg#daniela avanzini x reader#kpop fluff#requests#manon katseye x reader
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what are our thoughts on “just the tip” + bbf!carlos? maybe you’re still a virgin at that point and carlos convinces you he won’t go all the way in, he won’t cum inside, it’s just so he can test to see how you feel—maybe he’s working on a project and he convinces the reader he needs something to destress. do we think carlos would gaslight you into thinking he didn’t just use you as a cum dump or would he just blame you and your greedy cunt? maybe both? 😵💫
- 🍓
oh 🍓 nonnie, everytime i get an ask from you i always giggle because your ideas are ALWAYS so good.
as for this, GOD this is so bbf!carlos. hear me out. maybe it’s not him doing the project.. but her 👀 maybe she has a human biology project and for whatever reason, something about sex/orgasms/pleasure ect ect, and she speaks to carlos about it. he’s her good friend, and he’s very smart!!
and he convinces you that, well, actual demonstrations are better than just words!! and you’re nervous because.. you’ve never done anything like that. you’re scared, you’re worried. but carlos is cooing, cupping your face and whispering to you.
“ah princesa, it’ll be okay. just the tip.”
and you trust him. carlos doesn’t lie, carlos always helps you out.
and that’s how you end up on your bed, crying and whining as carlos’ thick shaft— i mean, tip— stretches you out as he fucks you.
his groans, moans and touches are delectable, and the pleasure helps distract you from the pain. this is all for research.. all for just that. nothing else. just carlos helping.
as for after he cums right inside your raw cunt? of course he’s gaslighting you. you tell him you feel sticky, something warm.. but he just laughs and tuts.
“cariño, remember our discussion about you getting wet? it’s just that, it’s okay.”
and of course you believe him. carlos just helped you with your project, getting first hand research. he didn’t just take your virginity for his sick pleasure, and fill you up with his cum. never.
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despite the hatred, despite the love
part three
azriel x reader
summary: the inner circle atends Helion's party to meet his new second in command, and while she seems to be just a beautiful girl, the hatred that Azriel feels for her and displays for everyone to see isn't bought by his brother, who will soon find out there is something more than hate between them... maybe even love.
“Where is he?” she uttered, almost breathless.
‘I flew him to… a healer.”
Y/N could read perfectly through his unsure words, the doubtful look he gave to his High Lady.
“I know about Velaris,” Y/N stated, too far to care about anything other than Azriel. “About Madja.”
Shock settled into Feyre’s face, turning with raised brows to Cassian. “How?” was all she asked when she turned to face her again.
“Azriel told me…”
Confusion and a glint of fear painted the High Lady’s face.
“Feyre,” Y/N spoke calmly, walking closer to her. “I’m no enemy—no threat to the city. Azriel knew that when he told me. He’s…”
A secret for a secret. Velaris for Azriel and Y/N.
“He’s my mate,” she said at last.
Her mouth fell slightly open, while Cassian stood there—no surprise on his face. Y/N shot him a questioning glance that was answered with a nod. “He told me. Just before he…”
Got shot.
Rush and fear settled into Y/N’s veins, moving her hand to Feyre’s. “Winnow me to him, please.”
The desperation in her voice made Feyre react as fast as a lightning flash, and within a blink, darkness surrounded the three of them.
…
He can’t be dead.
He can’t.
She’d feel it.
She would. They are mates. She would. Mates…
“Am I?”
“Is this about Helion?”
“Am I?”
Mates. Dead. Dead. Azriel.
“Y/N! Y/N, for fuck’s sake! Do you hear me?”
“I do,” she mumbled, shaking her head slightly as her eyes adjusted to reality. “Where…”
Where are we? Where is he?
She gave herself a moment to breathe, to think and calm her about-to-explode heart. “Where is he?” she finally asked, still slightly breathless.
Cassian had long stopped shaking her shoulders, yet his worry remained. “You are very pale.”
“Are you alright?” Feyre asked, standing next to them. Y/N moved her eyes to her, noticing their new surroundings.
This has to be the House of Wind, she thought, remembering Azriel’s descriptions.
Azriel.
Y/N fought her sickness and straightened her spine, only to make Cassian see he could finally let her go. “Where is he?” she repeated, this time more imposing.
They both moved their eyes to the same place. The same door at the end of the hallway.
That’s where Y/N was walking to immediately, taking one sure step after another, only stopping when her hand was on the knob.
She turned her head to the pair. Her eyes speaking for her—they understood her plea, or at least Cassian did.
Y/N didn’t quite understand why, but at the sight of his approving nod, she was thankful beyond words that they let her have a moment alone with him.
Something that had become so rare.
But it was not a time to think about that—not anymore. Maybe the Cauldron had been mean and wise enough to throw this upon them to make them realize what truly matters the most.
When she closed the door behind her and found the courage to look at Azriel, she only had one thought on her mind.
It wasn’t Helion or that stupid kiss.
It wasn’t the mission or that damn discussion.
Mate. That was what echoed in her mind—mate.
And there he was, lying on a bed with his eyes closed, his scarred hands resting at his sides. He looked so peaceful in his slumber Y/N couldn’t help the rising fear in her gut… dead.
Dead.
Dead.
“Y/N?”
It was so low, a whisper as weak as the wind, yet it was enough to make her crumble.
A sob broke through her as she took a step toward him.
“Y/N?”
“I’m here,” she cried, moving a trembling hand to his face, brushing his black hair away from his pale face.
She still hadn’t peeked at his bandaged wounds closely—she couldn’t. So she just watched his eyes slowly open and meet hers.
A tear slid down his face at the sight of his mate. “You are here,” he echoed, trying to believe it was true.
“Of course I’m here, Azriel.”
“I thought,” he murmured, squeezing her hand with his. “I thought you might hate me.”
“Hate you?” she cried as another sob broke from her. “Azriel, never. I love you—more than anything.”
He closed his eyes, more tears wetting his face. “I thought…” A sob from him made her lean closer to her mate. “When I got shot, I thought I would never see you again. I thought I would die with you hating me.”
“Azriel,” she wept, words running from her.
“But I didn’t die. And now I know—we cannot go on like this, Y/N. I don’t want to keep it secret. I hate risking you—letting everyone know you are my mate. But… I just don’t want to keep it a secret anymore. I can’t.”
“I know…” she mumbled. “I know. I don’t want it either.”
“I want,” he continued. “I want my family to know. I want my mother to know. I want… Helion to know.” He let out a short chuckle, making Y/N smile faintly, looking deep into his eyes. “And… I don’t want to fight anymore about the missions…”
“Az,” she started, but he silenced her sweetly with his hand moving to her face to caress her cheek.
“No more dangerous missions. Only spying.” At her incredulous face, he added with a loving smile. “I promise.”
“Really?” she cried, not able to stop the tears.
“Turns out death teaches you loads,” he mused.
She shook her head with a smile. “You didn’t die, you fool.”
A silent moment passed as his longing eyes met her soul. “But it came so close… close enough to realize what I live for.”
She moved to hug him, not able to utter a word. “Come here,” Azriel urged, gesturing to the space left in his bed.
She obliged, crawling gently to his side. Face hidden in his neck, he found a place for his hands on her waist and back, his strokes lulling her to sleep.
“How did you get here so fast?” he found himself asking once he felt her breathing was calmer, her beating heart more rhythmic.
“Cassian came to tell me and Feyre directly. Does he… know?”
She felt him nod, his chin grazing her head. “He’s a busybody—it was a matter of time before he found out.”
At that, Y/N smiled widely. “He is. But I am thankful he knew and came directly.”
“So, he flew you two here himself?”
“Feyre winnowed us.”
Azriel quickly looked down, searching her eyes. “What? You, Y/N, let yourself be winnowed?”
“Yes,” she smiled, hitting him softly on his good arm. “I did.”
“Y/N, you cannot bear winnowing,” he replied plainly, shock still alive in his eyes.
“I did it for love, fool.”
He beamed widely, taking in her words as he leaned in to kiss her forehead sweetly. “I love you, Y/N.”
She smiled contentedly, letting silence unfold upon them.
But the question made its way through her. “What did the healer say, Az?”
“I’ll be alright,” he said, and it sounded more like a promise than a truth.
She nodded all the same, trying to focus only on his warmth, his sweet embrace—not his wounds, or the redness in his eyes from the tears.
It was a very beautiful promise whatsoever.
“We’ll be alright.”
-Charcaters by Sarah J Maas
azriel masterlist
BASED ON THIS REQUEST
@bravo-delta-eccho @writtenbypavani @topaz125 @tiredsleepyhead @moonfawnx @buttermilktea11 @onebadassunicorn @nightcourt-daydreaming @tothestarsandwhateverend @shadowsingercassia
#azriel x reader#azriel angst#azriel#azriel x female!reader#azriel x you#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x y/n#acotar fic#azriel fanfic#azriel fic#az imagine#azriel imagine#azriel fluff#azriel spymaster
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Dead or not, Ambessa Medarda got her happy ending. She came to Piltover avenge her son, yes, to get what she needed to wreak bloody vengeance on those who would target her own. But in her mind, she also got the greatest confirmation she’d succeeded as a parent.
One of Ambessa’s fatal flaws is that she will only accept how she believes the world should work, but she does not believe in nepotism. She’s a fascinating cocktail of superiority and genuine meritocracy. She will burn the world for her family, but only if they (in her eyes) deserve it. “I will give you the world, child, if you prove you can take it.”
She made no secret that she views her children’s lack of militaristic ruthlessness as a disappointment. But one aspect of Ambessa I haven’t seen discussed as much is her guilt. She feels like she’s failed as a parent. By allowing her children to remain foxes in this world, she believes she’s thrown them to the wolves. And in her mind, Kino died for her failure.
She will do anything to save Mel from the same fate (or, in less charitable interpretations, to confirm her own worldview). And in that, she succeeded. She leaves this world knowing her daughter has become strong enough to stand against any threat the world turns her way. And, more than that, Mel understands Ambessa’s worldview, has taken (some of it) for her own, and she will carry it as her mother’s merciless protection for the rest of her life. You are the wolf. For a woman like Ambessa Medarda, with all her love and all her ego, her ruthlessness and her brilliance, this is the greatest legacy she could leave behind.
#Trying to explain how Ambessa and Silco dying at their children’s hands and in their arms is actually a happy ending for them.#Is it a good ending for everyone else? Doubtful. Is it a good sign for the future? Debatable.#But it is a happy ending for them.#ambessa medarda#arcane#arcane meta#arcane spoilers#arcane season 2 spoilers#arcane season 2#arcane season 2 act 3#arcane finale#arcane 2x09#The Dirt Under Your Nails
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Her boss wanted to get his hands on her rump, unfortunately for her heiny in the Twin Hills community there was recongized way for him to achieve by punishing her with a spanking. Being her boss, he had access to numerous justifications and soon she was shifting her feet in front of his desk nervously, trying to explain charging the wrong project on her timesheet. Her explanations were dissmissed and her punishment began. She was compelled to take off her white panties and place them on her boss's desk. Then he had her bend over on his desk. Her boss grabbed the bottom of her skirt and slowely lifted the end of her skirt over her waist. Her femine rump was exposed to him for the first time. He breathed out heavily. But she was waiting for a spanking and he had no desire to spare her. With his hand smacking into her bare ass, it was possible to pause after a smack to grab the soft, taught flesh of her bottom.
The female employee tried to share her feeling unfairness with her husband, but her husband demanded to see the results of her spanking on her bottom. Once her bare bum was revealed, her husband forgot on what they were discussing and smacked her ass before proceeding to thrust his eager manhood into her. She protested, but her husband spanked her sore bum into compliance and he took her roughly from behind. As they lay entangled together, he rubbing her ass gently, he remembered the discussion they had been having and spoke gently to her telling her to be a 'good girl' and behave by taking the spankings her boss would give her. He praised her for being a strong woman by accepting spankings from male authority that were part of thier community. He told her she brought him honor by submitting to spankings given to her by the men. Apparently she was saisfied, for she stood, shook her spanked ass, and sat on his lap sticking his manhood into her. She then rode him, every bump of her spanked bottom sending pulses of pain and pleasure into her. She sighed with satisfaction as he came, her husband treasured and desired her, all was well. She decided she should buy her boss a leather strap. Perphaps with a leather strap he would leave the touching to a minimum.
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MC who loves otome games
Lucifer acts pretentious at times and expresses that it is quite a strange hobby to have. You are often by his side in his room at his desk when he is working and in order to kill time you find yourself pulling out your handheld device and headphones to play. You don't notice but Lucifer is most definitely taking peeks at your screen maybe not so much peeks but he is full-blown watching until he catches himself and gets back to his paperwork. He also pays attention to how you talk about the characters in the games you play especially your favorite characters "This is a fictional character after all they could not provide much for you...I on the other hand.."
Mammon expresses his disdain right away. Why would you need a fictional character to obsess over when you have a real-life demon aka Mammon! Grumbles to himself while he sits next to you playing an otome game because, at the end of the day, he just wants to spend time with you no matter what you're doing. Next thing you know he is not grumbling insults at the game but instead demanding you to pick certain choices claiming that he knows which one would be the best "Obviously you should choose the third choice ..! Wait! What I meant to say was I really don't see the point of these games is the great Mammon not enough for you!?"
Levi is in a constant state of jealousy and understanding. On one hand, he loves that he has someone so close to him who also enjoys games like that but on the other hand, he tends to compare himself to the characters in the games you play and you often have to reassure him that you like him the way he is. Later on, though, he absolutely loves discussing his favorite otome game stories and characters with you! "Did you play his route yet?? The beginning was kind of slow but later on, he really shows how much he cares for the MC and .. ... .. .. .."
Satan prefers reading romance books but he is willing to indulge in this hobby of yours. After all, it is mostly reading. At first, he tries to act uninterested, making it clear that he does not want to be like Levi but he gets hooked in the end. After watching you play and playing a bit for himself he gets so passionate about the stories and characters and he gets pissed when there's a character who he thinks is not suitable for the MC. "Why the hell would anyone prefer this route over any of the others!? Do they not have taste?!?!"
Asmodeus is intrigued from the start. He has heard of these sorts of games from Levi but whenever Levi discusses them they lead to a long ramble and Asmo doesn't stay interested enough to stay until the end. He watches you play them and plays a bit himself and it immediately inspires him to try new roleplays in the bedroom. He is open to cosplaying as characters in the bedroom as well. He takes pride in the fact that he can learn the ins and outs of your favorite character but still in the end he hopes you favor him the most "Ooh ~ I can see why you like him so much he's so cute! ...But I'm hoping you like someone else a lot more darling"
Beelzebub just so happens to stumble upon you playing one of these games after he gets himself a snack and decides to spend his time eating in your room of all places. He does not have much interest in playing one for himself but he is happy to watch you play while munching on snacks..as long as it does not take too long. Eventually, he will ask you if you want to pause the game and go out to eat, his treat of course! (and this absolutely does not have anything to do with the fact that you are obsessing too much over this certain character.) "Is this the type of person you like MC..? They are not real though..maybe it's time to take a break from the game we should go out to eat now just you and me."
Belphegor forces you to cuddle him to sleep whether you are tired or not so you have learned to keep your phone or a handheld console on hand for this purpose. While lying down with your back turned to Belphagor you put on your earphones and dive into this romance game world but little do you know is Belphie is watching. He pays close attention to whatever you are interested in and this just so happens to be one of them. He does not make it known but you sometimes find it suspicious when he says something that resembles what the character in your game says.. "Hmm what do you mean? You must be tired Let go to sleep now" :)
I wrote this while drinking pls ignore any mistakes imma try to tweak it another day :D ALSO If you reached the end please consider checking out this adults-only otome game community I made on my other account!!
https://www.tumblr.com/communities/otome-game-community
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me nightbringer#obey me mammon#obey me luficer#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me Beelzebub#obey me belphie#otome#otome games#obey me headcanons#otome game
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About Malleus new years card, given how heavily Japanese culture it goes into. It might be a hagoromo, a white cloth/scarf that floats in the air around a goddess. Given that Malleus is the strongest mage, it might be a symbolism of that. Even so it's used for goddess, Vil and a few others worn clothing meant for women. It wouldn't be unusual to be used for Malleus.
[Referencing this post!]
These asks are all about the fashion of the New Year’s Attire cards and how they relate to Japanese culture, so I thought to combine them ^^
Since I’m responding to three asks in one post and it takes a while to explain things, I’ve placed everything under the cut :> There’s a lot of discussion of Japanese clothing, culture. and folklore in this, so if you’re interested in those topics then you’re in for a treat!!
To the first ask: Though Twst is fairly gender fluid when it comes to dressing its characters, I'm certain that's not a 羽衣 (hagoromo/"feather garment/cloak"; typically worn by celestial women in Japanese mythos). Hagoromo are thinner, longer, and more scarf-like than what is depicted in Malleus's initial card art. You can tell that he's clearly got a sheet that covers his entire body there. The fabric also doesn't appear to be floating like a hagoromo would.
The first two images depict 被�� (kazuki/katsugi); the latter two images depict 羽衣 (hagoromo); you can see there is a notable visual distinction between them.
To the second ask: It’s possible that the artists looked at kabuki fashion for inspiration, but they most likely did not base the entirety of the New Year’s Attire outfits on that alone. As Yana states in one March 2023 interview, she and her team try to avoid creating outfits that too closely resemble a single real-world culture or brand. To that end, they seem to pull their inspiration from many different cultures and time periods, which is why you'll see a mixture of traditional and modern Japanese elements in the New Year’s Attire.
歌舞伎 or Kabuki, for those who don't know, is classical form of Japanese theatre which mixes dramatic performances with traditional music and dance. I consulted with a few friends who are familiar with Japanese culture (hereby referred to as A-ko, B-ko, C-ko, and D-ko) about the topic and they had some enlightening information to share. Because I am not familiar with the art form or how to gauge it myself, I will be relaying the information provided by those friends in addition to my own research. A-ko informed me that kabuki used to be co-ed (or at least did feature women; the first kabuki troupe formed was all-women) and modern kabuki is all-men. As for the poses, B-ko remarked that they can be considered common "festival dance poses", not strictly kabuki poses. C-ko added, "[...] There is very little, if anything, kabuki-like about the New Year’s cards apart from possibly SOME of the poses [...] Jack is probably the most kabuki we’re going to get because of the dynamic palm thrust and gaudy composition of his attire."
Overall, the group seemed to agree that the New Year’s Attires lack the over-the-top expressions and elaborate costumes of kabuki. There’s also the more obvious lack of full-face stage makeup, but it’s kind of a given that Twst is wouldn’t go this route, especially since the context of these cards is helping out in a store and not putting on a dramatic performance.
On the topic of Malleus and oni (Japanese yōkai, demon, orc, ogre, or troll), I don't think he's intended to look like one??? Sure, he has the horns, but as B-ko said, "[Malleus] always has those horns." Very little in his actual outfit resembles the costume a kabuki actor playing the part of an oni would wear--unless you count the excessive black, as that's a color typically used for oni, but that black is usually paired with red. As for the hair styling, D-ko explained, "Oni usually don't have hair [...]". I find it interesting that some oni masks I found do seem to have hair, but it's usually very sparse omg balding!Malleus real???? and/or a middle part and not the sideways part that Malleus is sporting. Additionally, while oni do have horns, the shape of them is nothing like Malleus’s.
It's true that fur is rarely seen in historical Japanese clothes, but they don't seem to be that common in kabuki either?? According to C-ko, "fur and pelts [...] were a luxury few could afford. Thus, only those people decorated with furs would be royalty or individuals vying for power.
B-ko suggested that the reason why Jack wears fur in his New Year’s Attire isn’t to emulate Kabuki—which tends to feature fluffy wigs, like the one pictured below—but to emphasize his “wolf”-ness and to keep him warm from the cold. C-ko pointed out, however, that “[…] fur accents (like what Jack has) became the trademark for popular and celebrated figures [...] towards the end of the warring states period; when kabuki came into vogue, many plays were inspired by the lives of such personae as well as the legends surrounding them. This is why much of kabuki is characterized by the term basara—of grandeur and ostentatious eccentricity. The actors themselves would not have had access to furs, so they focused instead upon conveying that same sort of energy through their theatrics and outlandish couture. They still used substitutes, of course.” C-ko also added, “The most memorable kabuki roles feature things like fur—which many associate with kabuki.”
Finally, the group altogether said that, “Vil isn’t [dressed like] a geisha. His outfit bears no resemblance to what geisha wears.” 芸者 or Geisha are highly trained Japanese hostesses who entertain guests with song, dance, and conversation—furthermore, there’s a rigorous training process and a very specific appearance they take on. Makeup aside (if Twst is not doing kabuki makeup, why would they do geisha makeup?), a feminine figure and long, flowing kimono is not enough to get the “the look”. B-ko commented, “[…] Calling Vil [dressing like] a geisha just because he wore a feminine kimono […] Like, damn. Does that mean every woman who wears that style [of a] kimono is a geisha now?” It takes considerable time and dedication to achieve this to earn the title; it’s not meant to be taken lightly!
From D-ko, “Overall Vil’s outfit is kinda westernized.” This is due to the hat, gloves, bows, fishnets, and laced collar. A traditional geisha’s outfit lacks the bells and whistles that Vil’s design boasts. The silhouette also seems to be wrong. Why? “Because technically you try to make your silhouette as not curvy as possible when wearing a kimono,” but Vil’s silhouette appears more hourglass-like. The devil is in the details!!
Lastly, to the third ask: Going to skip over talking about Jack's umbrella pose and the kabuki inspiration, since I already addressed that earlier in this post! I'll briefly add that it's not for sure that Malleus is meant to be a certain thing unless Yana and/or her team come out and say it. B-ko agreed, saying "I don't think you can say Malleus is definitely [Ushiwakamaru], since I literally gave [other examples of what] he's dressed like [...] I can understand 'taking inspirations from', though..."
In the final ask, Anon remarks that Jack and Malleus's looks may be inspired by that of 弁慶 (Benkei) and 牛若丸 (Ushiwakamaru), two characters from Japanese folklore. Ushiwakamaru is the nickname of Minamoto no Yoshitsune, who, according to C-ko, "[...] fought and recruited his loyal vassal Benkei in a fabled confrontation on a bridge." While some elements of Jack and Malleus's New Year's Attires resemble what Ushiwakamaru and Benkei are usually depicted wearing--especially Malleus's veil--not all of it matches up. For example, as B-ko notes, "[...] what Malleus is wearing under the veil isn't what Usiwakamaru is wearing, but looks [like] more of a kannushi (神主/"divine master (of ceremonies; often Shinto clergy)")." B-ko linked this site and recommended checking it out to make clothing comparisons; the kannushi garb was just an item they picked out for similarities on a cursory glance. This brings me back to a point I mentioned in the second ask: Twst's fashion takes inspiration from many sources and blends them.
"I think it really boils down to [Malleus and Jack] evoking the atmosphere of that famous [Ushiwakamaru and Benkei] print," C-ko continues. They drew comparisons between Malleus, a character twisted from Maleficent (commonly depicted with her raven Diablo), and Usiwakamaru, who is the disciple of a tengu {crow/raven yokai). They also compared Jack, a steadfast and virtuous individual, with Benkei, who is a monk with similar traits. Furthermore, in the famous folklore story, Benkei is depicted as having felled 999 men before facing off against Usiwakamaru, a supernatural force. So, like Jack, Benkei is a powerful combatant up against an even more powerful supernatural force, Usiwakamaru/Malleus.
jxxbisbsjJvsjsb I didn’t think we’d be talking about Japanese fashion, history, and folklore to this extent, but here we are 🤩 I hope that, if you’re reading this, maybe you learned something new and interesting from the post!! I know I certainly did while chatting up my friends.
P.S. Thank you to A-ko, B-ko, C-ko, and D-ko for their knowledge and perspectives! Couldn’t have written this without you.
#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#disney twst#Malleus Draconia#Jack Howl#Vil Schoenheit#notes from the writing raven#jp spoilers#Maleficent#Diablo
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Okay so I have more thoughts on the Ithaca Saga, about Athena & Odysseus' relationship, and how it ends.
Spoilers ahead, for those who have not listened
This all came to me when I was listening to I Can't Help But Wonder. I couldn't stop thinking about what I kinda saw before as an offhanded phrase from Warrior of the Mind.
"Sounds like a plan, goddess and man, bestest of friends!"
"We'll see how it ends."
At the time, I thought this was just characterization for Athena. She's a goddess, she's very professional, and like the other gods we see she is somewhat dismissive of mortals and their emotions.
But we've seen how it ends now. The relationship is fractured beyond repair. There isn't resentment anymore, and Athena is the one reaching out to Odysseus, similar to how she did in Warrior of the Mind but not for the purpose of shaping him, not with the same professional tone. Athena has changed a lot, and is reaching out with compassion, with empathy, with care. She wants to be friends again.
But Odysseus changed a lot too.
He's exhausted. He has fought tooth and nail for decades to get home. He's been beaten, bruised, tortured without end. And Athena abandoned him so early in his journey. She wasn't there to help, to support. She didn't even watch it happen as it happened, she caught herself up after the fact in Love in Paradise. Athena did a lot that Odysseus didn't see, like take a lightning bolt to get him off Calypso's island, but even if Odysseus knew that I don't think it would be enough.
Odysseus is done with the fighting. He is done with the pain, the work, the strife. He's done with the gods. And that includes Athena. He just can't do it anymore.
When Athena said "We'll see how it ends." She thought she would be the one to end this. But she's wrong. Odysseus doesn't have the energy to repair the shattered relationship. He finally has control over his life again, and that life doesn't fit Athena.
I didn't do a ton of theorizing about what would happen in the final saga, with the exception of one thing. I thought Athena was going to be far more present. From what I understand about the Odyssey, which I have not read in its entirety but have had to read several sections of it for classwork, and I've sought out different summaries and discussions about it out of curiosity, Athena is very involved in the ending. So, that's sort of what I expected to happen in Epic. I knew Penelope and the Suitors would get their own songs before Odysseus would start killing people, but I figured that Odysseus, Telemachus, and Athena would get their own number somewhere in between Penelope's song and when Odysseus starts his murder-spree. I didn't know how the relationship would end, but I had figured that there would be some kind of reconciliation, and then the murdering would have a little bit more of a vibe like Little Wolf, albeit far darker.
None of this is to say I dislike where Jorge decided to take the final saga, I think it is deeply interesting and absolutely crushing how he decided to handle it. Honestly all this yapping hardly has a real thesis or point, I just wanted to get the thoughts out of my head.
I suppose the closest thing to an conclusion I can draw from this is that Jorge completely subverted my expectations, and crushed my soul in the process.
10/10, wouldn't change a thing.
If anyone has additional thoughts, feel free to share. I'm always open to folks more articulate than me weighing in.
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when angel got up out of bed, garam began to pout before he rolled over to lay on his back, though his gaze was still on his friend. he didn't want angel to get out of bed, he wanted the other to relax a bit more before actually getting up. but he took it upon himself to take care of garam instead. when he appeared in the room again and handed garam the piece of bread first, his expression shifted to confusion which was quickly cleared up as angel spoke. though there was a moment of protest, garam eventually took two small bites of the bread. "didn't you drink last night? you were pulling bottles out when i left." if angel had drank as well, why didn't he show any signs of having a hangover? maybe he decided against it once he was alone. that was the only thing that made sense, garam couldn't recall angel acting anything but sober once they were together again. when he popped the asprin into his mouth, he hesitated for a moment as if he were looking for water to take it with but he ultimately just swallowed the pill on it's own. it wasn't that big so he knew he wouldn't struggle trying to get it down. "that depends," he stated after being asked when he wanted to talk. "will i be upset with whatever you want to talk about?" honestly, it didn't matter if he'd be upset or not. garam knew he couldn't sit through breakfast patiently knowing there was something serious they needed to discuss. he probably would end up eating too fast which would make his stomach hurt in the end all so the two of them could talk. "it doesn't matter," he shook his head, "we can talk before, i'm not patient enough to wait." once more, angel had surprised garam with his next question. he shot up right with wide eyes, lips parting as his jaw opening. he let out a sharp breath. he thought he'd hidden it so well, he did his best to move as carefully as possible as to not make it obvious that he was really turned on simply by the two of them kissing. but clearly, he didn't do as good of a job as he thought. "oh my— h-how did you know? i didn't say anything, did i? o-or did i force myself on you? i don't—oh my god, i'm so sorry if i did something to you. i know you need time before we do anything intimate. you know how i get when i've been drinking, i never would have—" angel was smiling so he couldn't have been upset, right? angel wouldn't be smiling if garam forced himself on the man. but how else would angel have known he'd gotten that aroused? he refused to believe angel would have touched him while he was intoxicated, that's not who he was. but how else would he have known? maybe garam said something and he just doesn't remember. "i don't remember anything after we kissed, please don't be mad." he admitted, his voice much softer as if he were ashamed of the fact that he couldn't remember anything else.
Sleep had taken hold of Angel and didn’t seem to want to release him. Movement in the bed began slowly waking him, but his mind didn’t register anything until he felt a hand on his skin. His face scrunched up as his light brown eyes began to flutter open. He whined as his eyes adjusted to the light from hearing his name. Followed by Garam filling his stomach with butterflies. Baby. The man seemed to remember last night. Angel’s eyes soon adjusted and found his best friend. Once again Garam’s thumb was pressing into his bottom lip. Before the man could drop it he kissed it gently. It was difficult for Angel to fully awaken. Not sleeping for close to a month would do that to you. He was surprised he didn’t get sick from all the lack of sleep. For a moment the man lay there trying to think where aspirin actually was. “You cannot take aspirin on an empty stomach” Angel muttered in his morning raspiness. still half awake as he forced himself up. Hearing Garam’s needs he couldn’t just lay in bed. No matter how tired he was. He truly enjoyed taking care of the man. The raven-haired man climbs up stumbling slightly as he tries to stand. He groaned rubbing his eyes as he disappeared into the bathroom. It didn’t take him long to find the aspirin. He held the bottle in his hand as he came out shaking it as he walked past to leave the bedroom. As he wandered around the apartment getting everything Garam needed he wondered what all the other man remembered. Angel bit his cheek as he typically did trying to fight back the negative thoughts that plagued his mind. He wanted to believe that Garam remembered it all. So he focused on that. He grabbed a glass of water and some sweet bread before slipping back into the room. “Eat this first. Then I will get you pancakes” he said a little more clearly now that he was awake. Angel handed over the water and bread as he opened the aspirin, “Take a few bites of the bread first. Then I’ll hand over the aspirin” Angel knew his best friend well. The man was stubborn and would fight him every step of the way if he didn’t hold the aspirin hostage. He watched his best friend closely waiting for him to eat some before finally handing them over. Without trying Garam was adorable. His messy bedhead reminded him of how cute his best friend was coming home. But waking up beside him was even better. The simple touches and hearing his name said so softly was a nice way to be woken up. Angel sat back on the bed watching Garam for a moment before speaking, “Did you want to talk before or after your pancakes?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. As much as he wanted to live in the bliss from the night before they couldn’t move forward without a sober and proper conversation. Angel had already made a mental note that he would cut back on drinking. It was becoming a problem and almost got him hurt again. Drinking seems to be a common factor in many of his bad decisions. “Please tell me you remember getting a semi last night?” Angel teased unable to hold it in. Now that the man was sober he had to poke a little fun. He got Garam hard. Not fully but still. Enough to make him feel proud. He was grinning staring straight at Garam wanting to see his reaction.
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fresh new commissions menu!
please note: if you decide to commission me I may take up to a month to fulfill the commission. I'm quite busy with school and work and will keep you updated during the process.
the "won't do" list is not all encompassing and I reserve the right to turn down commissions that personally make me uncomfortable or that I believe I will not be able to pull off in a satisfactory way. I work hard on all of my commissions and I want to make sure the end result is something you will love
if there's anything not listed here that would would like to discuss, please let me know and we can figure out pricing
I take payment through paypal AFTER my commissions are completed as this is easiest for me.
If you would like to commission me, please dm me here or @chunkecheeks or message me on my discord which is donatellaaquato
I will have 3 slots open at a time
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