#you don’t have to do anything with this. just use this moment to breathe or something 🤍

[lowkeyerror]

Congrats on Your Divorce

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Notes: Requested, fluff & smut, librarian!reader, divorced!Wanda, smut, fingering, thigh-riding, cunnilingus

Summary: You befriend Wanda, a regular at the library you work at, after learning about her divorce. The friendship becomes something more one day when you come over to help her with her sick kids. As your relationship progresses you even talk about buying a home together, which leads to a physical manifestation of how much you love each other.

An: It took me awhile because I got a little carried away. I hope I did your request justice 🙇‍♀️.

Masterlist

You enjoyed the mundane lifestyle that came with working at the library. There was a comfort that came with knowing that you worked in something of a community center. Being able to provide a service that for some was the highlight of their day. In this day and age having regulars at the library was a rarity, especially the adults. Kids would come after school for homework or for research purposes, but the adults were few and far between.

Technically it may have been weird that you had a favorite but you couldn’t help yourself. There was a woman named Wanda, she’d come once a week ask for a recommendation and sit there the whole day and read it.

She’d always make a comment or two on the book on her way out and it made you smile. It was good to know she appreciated your picks. Though there were other staff members she only really asked you.

When she missed one week, you found yourself discouraged. One week turned to two and so forth until it had been a month since you saw the woman.

“Y/n, it looks like your regular is back. She might need a little assistance,” one of your coworkers approaches you.

“What are you talking about?”

They give you a look that says ‘seriously’, “Ms. Recommendations, she’s in the non-fiction section looking a little worse for wear.”

You nod and make your way over to the section. There you find Wanda. Your coworker was not exaggerating. She looked so fragile as if she was just waiting for the tears to fall. She was staring at the books, but it was easy to tell that she wasn’t really reading anything.

“Looking for anything in particular,” you say softly, trying not to startle her.

She seems to snap out of her trance enough to try and answer you, “No, not today.”

It felt like she was speaking on autopilot. If it were another guest, you would’ve let her be, but this was Wanda. Perhaps it was a bit para-social but it felt like you knew her better than the average customer.

“I- I don’t mean to overstep, but are you alright?”

She lets out a tired sigh, “That obvious?”

You attempt to back track, “No… uh it’s just I haven’t seen you around in a while."

She looks away for a moment, “ Yeah, I um got a divorce. So I’ve been a hermit as of late.”

“Oh, congratulations.”

Wanda can’t help but laugh at your words, “Most people have been saying they’re sorry to hear, but congratulations? It’s kind of refreshing.”

You shrug, “Well I don’t think divorce is always a bad thing. It’s hard for sure, but it’s better than staying in a situation you don't deserve.”

“What if I was in the wrong?’ Her eyes are glued to the floor as she speaks.

“I may be overstepping again, but I doubt that's the case. You don't seem like the kind of person,” your tone doesn't make her argue, instead a look of relief crosses her face.

“I'm not,” she says taking a deep breath.

You smile at her, “Then it’s their loss.”

She smiles back at you, “I guess you’re right.”

Glad to have made her feel even a little bit better, you begin to leave the aisle she's in. You dint get far before there’s a gentle tug on your wrist. You turn back to stare into Wanda’s warm green eyes.

She’s nervous as she speaks, “I don’t know if I’m too old to be doing this, but fuck it. I could really use a friend right now and I was wondering if you’d be open to getting coffee or something, whenever you’re free.”

You stare at her for a few seconds before nodding, “I’m off in about 15 minutes, there’s a café a few blocks over that I think everyone should try at least once.”

Her excitement builds up in her features. She clears her throat to hide it, “I’ll wait for you by the YA novels?”

“Sounds perfect.”

From that day on Wanda wasn’t just a regular customer anymore, she was your genuine friend. She was also one of the sweetest people you had ever met in your life. She was unbelievably strong too.

The details of her divorce were quite messy. A touch of infidelity here and there, mixed with a custody agreement was a recipe for disaster.

You always offered to be there in any way you can’t for. She usually turns down your more serious offers for help, and sticks to fun small outings. You can tell that she’s somewhat embarrassed by her situation, but you don’t think there’s anything she should be embarrassed about.

“Y/n, I know I said I was free to go out today, but Tommy is sick and Billy isn’t doing that great either, can I give you a rain check?”

She called you and you could hear the tiredness and distress in her voice, “Let me come over and help you, Wands. Two sick kids is rough work, I know you could use a hand.”

She’s silent on the line, but the coughs and sinus filled conversation doesn’t stop.

Wanda sighs, “Okay, do you think you can bring me some medicine? I’ll text you some ingredients I need for soup too if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you need, I’ll see you in a bit,” you say simply.

You follow through on your word picking up various cough, cold, and fever medicines along with some cough drops. You nearly forget about the stuff for the soup, until Wanda texts you something she left off the ingredient list. After picking up everything you head to her house.

You’d been to her house before, but never when her kids were there. You had seen them with her a few times at the library, but back then you didn’t quite deduce that they were her children. It feels so obvious now, but Wanda was definitely a young mom in your opinion, or at least she looked like one.

You rang the doorbell and waited with the groceries in your hand. It took a moment but eventually the door swung open revealing Wanda. Though your hands were full, she’s the one who had bags under her eyes. She looked as though she would fall over any second.

“You’re a godsend Y/n,” she tries to take the bags from your hands but you don’t let her.

“And you’re sick too, here I figured this would happen,” you rummage through the bags and pull out a medicine that’s for adults.

“It’s drowsy.”

You nod, “I know, I figured you need the rest anyway, let me handle its.”

Wanda shakes her head, “Are you crazy? You think you can handle my two kids and me on your own?”

You smile at her, “You underestimate me, Maximoff. Let me show you what I can do.”

“We’ll see, but first come meet them properly.”

You sit the bags down in the kitchen, opting to take the medicine upstairs with you. She takes you to their room.

Tommy is propped up in his bed watching as Billy plays videogames from his spot on the floor.

“Tommy, Billy, this is my friend Y/n. She’s going to help us out today,” Wanda introduces you.

“The library lady,” Billy sounds congested as he speaks.

You nod your head enthusiastically, “ Yep, that’s me. I heard you boys were sick, so I brought some stuff to make you feel better.”

Tommy gags, “Ew medicine.”

You sympathize with him, “Ew is right, but it’s worth it I promise. In fact, I’ll sweeten the deal, you guys take your medicine, and I’ll make you the best soup of your life in return.”

“Better than mom’s?” Billy questions.

“ 1 million times better,” you egg him on.

Tommy is more hesitant, “I don’t know.”

You get closer to him, crouching so you can meet his level, “How about when you’re feeling better, we go out to the arcade and get some ice cream too.”

That seems to be enough for the boy, “That sounds awesome.”

While you’re chatting with them Wanda starts to prepare the medicine cups for the boys. They take the medicine with all the dramatics that children do.

“Ok, we’ll be back to check on you guys, shortly. Billy, get some socks baby. Tommy stay under the covers sweetheart."

The both of you exit the room and head back down the stairs. Wanda moves to start unloading the groceries, but you stop her.

“If you’re not going to fully rest, at least sit. I can make the soup,” you point to the barstools she has in her kitchen.

“Are you sure? I can help-"

You block her from opening the next bag. She looks into your gaze, which holds no feeling of malice or resentment. Instead she finds a warn and tender look behind your eyes.

“I’ve got it.”

She listens to your directions and takes a seat

She watches as you prep the ingredients, ever so often asking where she keeps certain things. Otherwise there is a fluid motion to your movements in the kitchen.

“You know you don't have to take them to the arcade just because they took the medicine, right?”

You pause slightly from chopping vegetables to look up at her, “I probably should’ve asked if it was okay with you first, but I don’t mind taking them. They seem like good kids, which isn’t a surprise at all considering they’re your kids.”

She beams at your words, “They’re a little more docile in this state, but they can be a handful at times. We haven’t really had a big outing like that since the divorce, I’m sure they’d appreciate it.”

“Then consider it done, as soon as they’re better let me know. We can all go out and have some fun.”

Wanda can’t help the feeling she gets hearing you talk so nonchalantly about going out with her kids. It’s something like a spark, that she hasn’t felt in a long time. She takes this time to really look at you, you’re stunning. Truth be told Wanda had always found you a little attractive, but she wrote it off as you just being conventionally good looking. However now, with you standing in her kitchen cooking for her and her kids. She’s starting to think it’s more than that.

“Do you like children, Y/n?”

“I have a soft spot for kids, it’s partially why I chose to work at the library. I had kind of a rough upbringing as a kid. It was just me and my mom, and money wasn’t all that great, but I remember her taking me to almost all the community events they hosted at the library. We spent a lot of time there. When I was old enough to go on my own, it was rare that I didn’t go. The library is such a haven for kids it’s one of my favorite things about it.”

Wanda felt herself melting under the sincerity of your words, “That’s really sweet.”

You start cooking down the vegetables before you answer, “Yeah, if I wasn’t so crazy about the library, I would’ve been a chef. I actually applied to a few culinary schools in high school, pretty ambitious but I had won a few competitions. I had offers and full ride scholarships to some of the best schools out there, but I chose to become a librarian instead.”

Wanda tilts her head to the side playfully, “So you weren’t just talking shit when you said you’re going to make a soup 1 million times better than mine.”

You laugh, “Technically I’m using the ingredients that you told me to get, so it’s more like our soup. I’m just tweaking a few measurements and cooking it a little different. It’s like a group project, if you will.”

Wanda laughs even harder, “You’re so full of shit.”

“Language, there are children present.”

Wanda rolls her eyes, “They’re upstairs."

“Children have super good hearing Wanda, trust me, I’m a librarian.”

She shakes her head with a small chuckle. She watches as the soup comes together a lovely aroma fills the kitchen, her mouth waters at just the smell.

“It smells delicious.”

You motion her over to the stove next to you. She scurries over, which makes you smile. She looks utterly adorable and ethereal at the same time. You began to notice it over the last few times you had hung out. Wanda was simultaneously the cutest and the most beautiful woman, you think you’d ever met in your life

“Taste,” you hold a spoon full of soup up for her.

She hesitates a little, but decides to just eat from the spoon while you hold it. Her eyes close as the flavors dance on her tongue. She lets out an involuntary moan, that has her blushing as soon as it leaves her mouth.

“Oh my god, that’s the best soup I’ve ever had in my life,” Wanda stares at you in awe.

“I hope the boys think so too.”

Wanda helps you fill the bowls for them, “They’re going to love it.”

True to her words the boys devour the soup going as far as to ask for seconds. Neither of you can deny them another bowl. Once they eat, you can see the food working in tandem with the medicine to tucker them out. Before they’re completely out of it you and Wanda get them ready for bed.

It feels more normal than either of you expected. By the time you’re done, both twins are now in bed. The tv plays something at a low volume, but you and Wanda are both aware that the kids will likely be asleep as soon as you leave the room.

When you leave you head back to the kitchen fixing 2 more bowls of soup for Wanda and yourself. You eat amongst each other with small chatter, but it’s comfortable. When you’re done, you almost have to fight Wanda to allow you to do the dishes.

She pouts, once again sitting at the barstool watching you clean.

“You haven’t let me help this whole time,” she whines.

“I’m here to help you, not the other way around,” you remind her.

Wanda places her hands on her hips, “But if you’re doing everything, what am I supposed to do?”

“Just sit there and look pretty,” you say without thinking.

Wanda feels her face heating up, losing track of how many times it has happened today alone, “Look pretty, huh?”

You can feel your ears heating with embarrassment, “oh I- well.”

“Oh my god are your ears turning red, that’s literally adorable. Are you flustered, Y/n?” Wanda teases.

You glare at her with faux-anger, “My ears? Your cheeks are just as red.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about?”

You wash your hands, quickly drying them before approaching her. You keep walking until there is virtually no space between the two of you. You look down at her, you don’t stop your eyes from dropping to her lips.

“Oh really?”

She looks up at you, her cheeks indeed, red like you had mentioned.

“And if they were?”

“Maybe I’d say that it’s adorable,” you use her words against her. “Or maybe…”

“Maybe what?” Her eyes dart to your lips.

You look back into her eyes, “Maybe, I’d kiss you.”

“I’d like that.”

That was all you needed to hear. She met you halfway and, in an instant, you were kissing. Your hand rested on the small of her back, while her hands locked around your neck. It was cliché but it was cute. The kiss itself was respectable, but still filled with a feeling of longing.

Wanda’s hands drop from your neck to lightly push you back, “I’m divorced with two kids Y/n-"

You stop her before she can even rant, “I know, Wanda. I’ve been here, maybe not the whole time, but most of it. I don’t care that you’re divorced and I’d love to get to know your kids. I’d love to get to know you better.”

“I feel like you already know me, Y/n. We’ve been friends for over a year now. We’ve spent so much time together, I’m just surprised you’re not tired of me yet.”

You take her hands in yours, “I could never get tired of you. I’m quite literally asking for more. Let me take you out some time.”

“Are you sure?”

It’s bold, but you place a quick kiss on her lips, “Positive."

From there things just seem to fall into place. You kept your promise to the boys, taking them out when they recovered from their sickness. Wanda was impressed by how well you mingled with them considering her ex always seemed to struggle to relate. However you, had no problem tapping into that childlike like amazement that the kids felt.

Soon after that outing, you and Wanda went on your first real date. You took her out to a nice restaurant. It was an upscale establishment, the prices weren’t even on the menu. Wanda tried to fret about how she didn’t know if she deserved this kind of treatment, but you always reassured her.

You believe she deserved the best and as long as you could give it to her you would.

It only took 4 dates before you asked her to be you girlfriends, not being the best at waiting. Luckily for you she agreed and truth be told if you would’ve asked her on the first date she probably would’ve said yes then.

At this point you’ve been dating for a little over a year. The twins are with their father for the weekend, and Wanda is staying over at your apartment.

The two of you are on the couch. She’s resting in your arms as you watch tv, “Wanda.”

She looks up, “Yes, detka.”

“How attached are you to your house?”

Her eyebrows furrow, “Why?”

You hold her gaze, “Is it crazy if I say that I want us to live together?”

Wanda plays with your fingers, “No, I don't think so.”

You kiss her forehead, “It’s just a thought.”

“You want to buy a house?”

You nod curtly, “We don't have to leave the area, I know the boys have school and I wouldn't want to pull them away or make them start fresh or anything, but I’ve been looking at some homes in the area. Something a little bigger, Billy and Tommy could both have their own room and a huge backyard. Maybe a dog, in the future.”

Wanda cups your face gently, pulling you down to kiss her, “I would love to buy a home with you Y/n.”

“Really?”

Wanda kisses you again, “Really.”

“I love you,” your eyes softening as the words fall from your lips.

“I love you too.”

Your lips are connected again, this time neither of you break the kiss. Instead Wanda shifts in your lap to straddle your waist. Her hands playing with the tiny hairs on the back of your neck. Your hands start at her thigh but end up sliding up to her hips, and soon your fingers are in contact with the cool skin of her stomach.

You aren’t able to stop yourself from kissing down her jaw. She moves her hair and cranes her neck to give you more access. Your teeth sink into her neck only for your tongue to soothe the skin. You suck the spot tenderly, causing little whines to emanate from Wanda.

“Y/n,” your name is breathless on her lips.

She doesn't have to say anything else for you to stand up with her still in your arms. You carry her to the bedroom. Once you’re in there and her feet are on the floor, you pull her shirt off. Yours follows after.

Wanda feels herself getting wet under your gaze. The way you take in her bare chest, eyes blown with want. While you stare she gets rid of the rest of her clothes. You eagerly do the same.

You pull her flush against your body. Skin heating upon contact.

“You’re perfect,” your thumb toys with one of her nipples.

Your head dips to take it into your mouth. You suck lightly, ever so often slowly fanning your tongue over the nipple. You do the same to the other nipple, while your hand cups her warmth. You moan at her wetness.

“ I need you,” she whispers.

You kiss her tenderly, backing her onto the bed. You’re gentle as you ease two fingers into her. She arches her back slightly, and her kiss becomes sloppier.

You’re in no rush as you slowly build pace. Her finger nails dig into your back.

“More please,” she buries her head in your neck.

You begin pumping at a faster pace, using your thumb to stimulate her clit. Her ragged breaths in your ear only turn you on even more.

You jolt as you feel her hand in-between your legs. Her fingers play through your folds and you hear her gasp in your ear.

“All for me baby?”

You nod, “All for you, Wands. Can I taste you, baby?”

“Fuck,” Wanda murmurs.

She pulls her fingers from you, signaling for you to suck them. You take them in your mouth, swirling you tongue around the digits, high off of your own taste.

Once her fingers exit your mouth, you maneuver down her body. You momentarily take your fingers out of her. She doesn’t have time to complain before you’re sucking on her clit.

“Holy shit,” she entangles her hands through your hair.

You keep eye contact with her as you lick, suck, and slurp her pussy. She throws her head back, taking her lip between her teeth. You can see sweat illuminating her body.

Soon you add your fingers back and you can feel her approaching her edge.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” she keeps repeating the mantra as she reach her peak.

You don’t stop when she cums on your tongue, only slowing your motions, to help her come back down.

“You did so good for me baby,” you say kissing up to her lips.

She shifts so her thigh is against your dripping cunt, “Your turn, my love. Use me.”

You see her flex her thigh, which causes you to moan, “Fuck, Wanda.”

Your hands rest on her shoulder as you begin to grind down on her. Her hands are on you, but the movements are all yours. Wanda watches with blown eyes as you fuck yourself on her thigh. Her hands climb up your sides to massage your breasts. You bite your lip as her fingers play with your nipples.

Wanda sits up slightly, just enough to get her mouth on your body. She sucks on near the top of your breasts, trailing hickeys across.

“I love it when you make a mess on my thigh, cum for me, moya lyubov.”

You cum all over her thigh. Her arms wrap around your midsection holding you steady as you shake. Her head rests against your chest, listening to your wild heart beat return to normal. She places a delicate kiss on your shoulder.

“I love you.”

You kiss the top of her head, “I love you too.”

Once you’re both cleaned up, you settle in bed for the night. You’re start out as the big spoon but soon Wanda turns to face you.

“I was so scared before you came into my life,« she admits.

“Wanda-"

She shakes her head, “Let me finish. I was so lost, I didn't know what to do, if there was anything I could do to feel like myself again. There were so many days I went through thinking I was unlovable. Then you show up, and all of those feelings and thoughts just leave. I’ve never felt so cared for. You make me remember all of the things I love about myself. You make love seem so easy, it feels obvious when you’re with me. I’ve never experienced a love like you’ve given me and I need you to know I love you too. I’ve never felt what I feel for you with anyone else.”

Wanda starts out loud and sure, but by the end her voice is quiet. She doesn’t break eye contact, fighting against her insecurities.

There are no more words shared between the two of you. Wanda kisses you with everything she is feeling and you return her fervor. She pecks you again before burying her head in your chest. You hold her tightly in your arms wondering how you ended up being so lucky.

Her words make emotion swell inside of you. Your voice cracks when you speak, “You are the love of my life. I was doing alright before, but you and the boys are truly everything I’ve been missing in my life. Getting to be with you, a part of your family, it means everything to me Wanda. Thank you, for letting me love you.”

[cherryxbooo]

I’ll do anything to make you happy

Summary: You were excited for winter break to start because it meant one thing: spending more time with Lando. But little did you know, that was the one thing you wouldn't be getting.

Reader x Lando Norris

Genre: fluff/angst

Winter always held a special kind of charm for me.

The frosty mornings, cozy blankets, and steaming cups of cocoa had always made this season my favorite.

But this year, it held a different promise: Lando finally had a break from racing.

After months of hectic schedules, jet-setting across the globe, and stolen moments in between races, I was looking forward to having him all to myself.

At first, it was everything I’d imagined and more.

We spent lazy mornings tangled in bed, with me teasing him about his messy hair while he pulled me closer, claiming I was his personal heater.

Breakfasts turned into brunches because we couldn’t stop talking or joking around.

We watched movies, baked cookies that turned out terrible, and played endless rounds of Mario Kart, which I always managed to win.

“You’re only winning because I’m letting you,” Lando said one evening, his grin teasing as he tossed the controller onto the couch.

“Sure you are,” I replied, laughing as I grabbed my victory snack from the table.

Those first few days felt like we were in our own little world, where nothing else mattered but us.

But soon, reality began creeping in.

It started innocently enough.

“Babe, Max just called,” Lando said one morning, leaning against the counter with his coffee mug in hand.

“He’s organizing a karting session. Shouldn’t take long.”

I smiled, my heart swelling with pride.

Racing was his passion, and I loved seeing him happy. “Go have fun. Just don’t let him beat you.”

“Never,” he said with a wink, kissing my temple quickly before heading out.

That day, I didn’t mind the quiet. I worked on some projects, caught up with friends, and even took a long bath.

By the time he got home, his cheeks were flushed with cold, and he couldn’t stop talking about how much fun he’d had.

But karting soon turned into golf.

Golf turned into poker nights. And poker nights turned into outings that stretched late into the night.

“I’ll be back soon,” he’d text, always with a heart emoji. But “soon” became later and later each time.

I told myself it was fine. He deserved this break.

He’d worked so hard all year, and if spending time with his friends helped him unwind, who was I to complain?

But as the days wore on, the house began to feel emptier, and so did I.

One evening, I decided to surprise him with his favorite dinner.

I spent hours in the kitchen, setting the table with candles and dimming the lights for a cozy atmosphere.

When Lando walked through the door, his expression softened as he took in the setup.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” he said, wrapping his arms around me.

“I wanted to,” I replied, smiling up at him.

“You’ve been so busy, and I thought it’d be nice to have a quiet night together.”

“That’s so sweet,” he said, leaning down to kiss me.

“But the guys are waiting for me. I promised I’d meet them for drinks tonight. Let’s rain check this?”

My smile faltered, but I nodded. “Of course.”

He kissed me again and was out the door before I could say anything more.

I sat down at the table, staring at the empty chair across from me.

The candles flickered, their light reflecting off the untouched plates. I took a deep breath, telling myself it was okay.

But deep down, a tiny crack had formed in my heart.

Days turned into weeks, and the cracks only deepened.

Lando’s absence became more noticeable, and I began to feel like a ghost in our own home.

One evening, after scrolling through endless photos of him with his friends on Instagram, I called Mia, my best friend.

“What’s wrong?” she asked the moment she picked up.

I sighed, the weight of my emotions pressing down on me.

“It’s Lando. He’s been spending so much time with his friends lately, and I feel like I’m… invisible.”

Mia was quiet for a moment before saying, “Y/N, you’re not invisible. But you need to talk to him. He’s not a mind reader.”

“I don’t want to seem clingy,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

“You’re not clingy. You’re his girlfriend. He should want to spend time with you. Talk to him.”

Her words gave me the push I needed. That night, when Lando came home, I gathered my courage.

“Can we talk?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

“Of course,” he said, sitting down next to me.

I took a deep breath.

“I’ve been feeling… neglected lately. I know you’re enjoying your break, and I want you to have fun, but I miss us. I miss you.”

He frowned, reaching for my hand.

“Babe, I’m sorry if it feels that way. But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

I nodded, but his words didn’t ease the ache in my chest. Before I could say more, he kissed me and stood up.

“Max needs help with something,” he said, grabbing his keys. “Love you!”

And just like that, he was gone. Again.

I tried my best to push away all negative thoughts until I thought about the positive ones.

Our second anniversary was just days away, and I held onto the hope that he’d make it special.

I told myself the late nights didn’t matter. He was probably planning something incredible for our anniversary.

The next day,

The morning light filtered through the curtains, painting the room in soft golden hues.

I stretched lazily, a content smile curling my lips as I reached across the bed.

My fingers met cold sheets. The space beside me was empty.

I frowned, the giddy excitement I had woken up with faltering.

Today was our second anniversary.

I had imagined waking up wrapped in Lando’s arms, whispering sleepy “Happy anniversary” wishes before sharing breakfast together.

Instead, he was gone.

I also realized that I hadn't heard him come back last night.

He told me he was just helping Max out with something, but he probably went out partying with his friends afterward, again.

I tried to shake off the disappointment as I climbed out of bed, brushing my hair out of my face.

Maybe he had planned a surprise and needed to step out early.

A flutter of hope lifted my spirits as I grabbed my robe and headed toward the kitchen.

The scent of coffee greeted me, but there was no sign of Lando.

Instead, on the counter, I found a note written in his familiar scrawl:

“Gone golfing with the guys. Be back later. Love you.”

My heart sank. Golfing? On our anniversary?

I swallowed the lump rising in my throat, trying to focus on the fact that he had said he’d be back later.

He wouldn’t forget our dinner, right?

We’d planned this evening together weeks ago, and I’d been looking forward to it ever since.

I folded the note and placed it aside, telling myself not to overthink it. He would be back in time.

He promised.

After a quick breakfast, I set to work preparing for the evening.

My heart thudded with a mix of excitement and nervousness as I laid out my plans.

Lando had been so busy lately, and this was my chance to remind him how much I loved him, despite everything.

I spent hours in the kitchen, cooking all his favorite dishes: his go-to pasta, a roasted chicken dish he always requested, and even the dessert I’d failed at three times before finally perfecting.

The smells of herbs, garlic, and chocolate filled the apartment, making it feel warm and inviting.

Between stirring pots and chopping vegetables, I took breaks to set up the dining table.

I draped it with a soft cream tablecloth, adding candles and a scattering of rose petals for a romantic touch.

Fairy lights hung along the walls, casting a cozy glow that made the space feel magical.

On the counter, I carefully placed his gift, a sleek watch he had admired months ago but never bought for himself.

Not forgetting to attach a handwritten note to the box.

With everything ready, I checked the clock.

It was almost evening. So I had to hurry up to get ready.

I slipped into the dress I had chosen weeks ago, a soft, fitted number I knew he loved on me.

My makeup was simple yet elegant, and I added the finishing touch, a spritz of the perfume Lando had gifted me for my last birthday.

I felt beautiful, excited, and nervous all at once as I sat on the couch, watching the clock.

Five minutes passed. Then ten.

By the time twenty minutes had gone by, I grabbed my phone, texting him a quick, “Hey, are you on your way?”

No response.

An hour later, I texted again. Then called. Still nothing.

My excitement turned into a gnawing worry that sat heavy in my chest.

Where was he? Had he forgotten?

Two hours passed.

The candles on the table had burned down halfway, their flickering flames reflecting off the now-cold plates of food.

The fairy lights, once magical, now felt like mockery.

Finally, three hours later, I gave up.

Tears stung my eyes as I blew out the candles, packed away the food, and removed my dress, exchanging it for soft pajamas.

My makeup was smeared with tears by the time I climbed into bed.

I grabbed my phone one last time, and my heart shattered when I saw the Instagram story.

It was one of Lando’s friends, showing a clip of him laughing, drink in hand, surrounded by his friends.

He looked happy. Carefree.

And completely oblivious that tonight was our anniversary.

The tears came faster, hot and uncontrollable. I buried my face in the pillow, the ache in my chest overwhelming.

I had been so sure he’d come back, that he’d remember. But I was wrong.

Later that night,

The apartment was cloaked in silence when Lando opened the front door, the click of the lock echoing faintly in the stillness.

He stumbled inside the weight of exhaustion and faint traces of guilt tugging at his chest.

The soft glow of the streetlights outside illuminated the darkened space just enough for him to make out his surroundings.

Something felt… off.

He reached for the light switch, and as the room was bathed in warm light, his eyes landed on the dining table across from him.

He froze.

The table was beautifully decorated, candles placed strategically, now melted into small stubs, surrounded by rose petals that had been artfully scattered.

Plates of food were neatly covered with lids to keep them from going bad, but even from a distance, Lando could tell they were his favorites.

He took a tentative step forward, his stomach sinking further with each movement.

Resting near the center of the table was a small, wrapped box with a note attached to it.

The sight made his chest tighten, a creeping realization clawing at the edges of his mind.

His fingers trembled as he picked up the note. Unfolding it carefully, he read the words in her familiar handwriting:

"To my Lando, the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for being my partner, my love, my everything. Happy anniversary, baby. Love, Y/N."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut. His heart sank as the full weight of the evening’s significance crashed over him.

Anniversary. He’d forgotten their second anniversary.

Lando stood there, the note still clutched in his hand, his throat tightening as shame washed over him.

He thought back to the past few weeks, to the times he’d brushed you off or come home late without so much as an explanation.

He couldn’t even recall the last time you two spent real, quality time together.

You had tried to talk to him about it, about how you felt neglected, and he had dismissed your concerns every single time.

Now, standing there amidst the evidence of your effort and love, he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world.

Lando exhaled shakily, running a hand through his hair as regret threatened to overwhelm him.

He couldn’t blame anyone but himself.

He glanced around the room, noticing how quiet it was. He knew you were asleep.

His eyes landed on his phone, dead from the night’s events.

With a heavy sigh, he plugged it into the charger, pacing nervously as he waited for it to turn back on.

When it finally lit up, the screen was flooded with notifications, missed calls and unread messages from Y/N.

The time stamps told the story of your evening:

“Hey, are you on your way?” - 8 p.m. “I’m waiting for you… everything’s ready.” -8:30 p.m. “Lando, please call me.” -9 p.m. “Are you okay? I’m starting to worry.” -10 p.m.

The last message was hours old, her tone shifting from hopeful to concerned.

Each notification felt like another jab to his heart, the guilt almost unbearable.

He dropped his phone onto the counter and made his way toward their shared bedroom.

Pushing the door open quietly, he stepped into the dimly lit room.

His gaze immediately found her curled up under the covers, her face half-buried in the pillow.

His breath hitched when he noticed the faint streaks on her cheeks, traces of tears she hadn’t been able to hide.

The sight made his heart clench painfully. She’d cried herself to sleep, and it was his fault.

Lando approached the bed slowly, kneeling beside her as he took in her tear-streaked face.

She looked so peaceful yet so vulnerable, her chest rising and falling softly with each breath.

Guilt swirled in his chest as he reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered, his voice barely audible, thick with regret.

Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her temple, lingering for a moment as if hoping it could somehow convey all the apologies he couldn’t say while she was awake.

His thumb grazed her cheek, and he sighed deeply.

“You didn’t deserve this,” he murmured, his voice breaking.

“I’ve been such an ass… the worst boyfriend. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. I love you so much.”

She stirred slightly at his touch but didn’t wake.

Lando watched her for a moment longer before standing, his mind racing with plans to fix what he’d broken.

Tomorrow, he vowed, would be all about her.

The next morning, I woke up with a dull ache in my chest, my body heavy from the night before.

My eyes were sore and puffy from crying myself to sleep.

I glanced at the empty side of the bed, already prepared for the familiar sting of disappointment.

Figured he’d leave again before I woke up, I thought bitterly.

Dragging myself out of bed, I moved to the bathroom to freshen up.

The cold water on my face didn’t do much to wash away the exhaustion or the emotional weight from the previous night.

With a sigh, I tied my hair back and made my way downstairs, expecting another day of hurt to unfold.

Halfway down the stairs, though, something unusual stopped me in my tracks.

The smell of coffee, rich and inviting, wafted through the air.

There was another scent too, pancakes? My brow furrowed in confusion.

"That can’t be right. Lando doesn’t cook... does he? Who am i kidding he can't even boil eggs."

I cautiously descended the rest of the stairs, each step filling me with equal parts curiosity and hesitation.

As I rounded the corner into the kitchen, I froze at the sight before me.

There he was, standing by the stove, flipping a pancake with a focused but slightly clumsy determination.

Plates of food lined the table, croissants, fresh fruit, juice, and what looked like store-bought pastries.

It didn’t take long to figure out most of the spread wasn’t homemade, but the effort was unmistakably his.

“Morning, love,” Lando greeted me, his tone soft and tentative, his lips curling into a nervous smile.

I raised an eyebrow, my arms crossing instinctively. “What’s all this?”

He put the spatula down and stepped closer, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel.

“It’s breakfast... and an apology,” he said, his voice earnest.

My eyes flickered between him and the spread on the table.

I could see he was trying, but the hurt from last night still lingered like a heavy cloud over my chest.

“Come sit,” he said gently, pulling a chair out for me.

I hesitated for a moment before sitting down, my arms still crossed defensively.

Lando grabbed a plate, placing a pancake in front of me before adding a small pile of fruit and a croissant on the side.

I eyed him suspiciously as he poured me a cup of coffee, then sat across from me.

“What are you doing, Lando?” I asked, my voice tinged with a mix of confusion and frustration.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table as he met my gaze.

“I messed up, Y/N. Big time. And I need you to know how sorry I am.” His voice was steady but filled with regret.

I stayed silent, waiting for him to continue.

“Last night,” he began, his brows furrowing,

“I forgot our anniversary. I forgot the one day I should’ve been making you feel like the most important person in the world. And it’s not just last night, I’ve been neglecting you for weeks. You told me how you felt, and I brushed it off like an idiot.”

His voice cracked slightly as he spoke, and I could see the weight of his guilt etched into every line on his face.

“I’ve been selfish, caught up in my own world, and I didn’t see how much I was hurting you. You deserve so much better than that, Y/N. Better than me.”

I felt my throat tighten as his words sank in. The sincerity in his tone chipped away at the walls I’d put up.

“I was so hurt, Lando,” I said, my voice trembling.

“I waited for you all night. I planned everything because I thought… I thought you’d come home and we’d celebrate together. I stayed up, hoping you’d walk through that door with a smile, ready to tell me how much you love me. But you didn’t.”

Tears pricked my eyes as I continued.

“I saw that video of you and your friends. You were laughing and having fun while I sat here, alone, on what was supposed to be our night.”

Lando’s face fell, his hands gripping the edge of the table as if grounding himself from the weight of my words.

“I know,” he whispered.

“And I hate myself for it. Seeing what you did for me last night, the decorations, the food, the note. I realized just how much I’ve been taking you for granted. I never want you to feel that way again, Y/N. You’re the most important thing in my life. I need you to believe that.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, sliding it across the table to me.

“What’s this?” I asked, my voice softer now, though my heart still carried the sting of last night.

“Open it,” he urged.

I carefully lifted the lid, revealing a delicate necklace with a sparkling pendant.

The intricate design caught the morning light, making it shimmer.

“Lando…” I trailed off, overwhelmed.

“It’s not enough to make up for what I’ve done,” he said quickly,

“but it’s a start. And today, it’s all about you. Whatever you want to do, wherever you want to go, we’ll do it.”

I stared at the necklace for a moment before meeting his eyes.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, my voice thick with emotion. “Thank you.”

“But,” I added, my tone firm, “this doesn’t mean I’ve fully forgiven you yet.”

“I know,” he said, nodding.

“And I don’t expect you to. But I’ll spend every day proving to you how much I care, how much I love you. I won’t stop until you believe me again.”

The determination in his voice made my chest tighten.

I wanted to hold onto my anger, to make him feel the depth of my hurt, but seeing him now, vulnerable, regretful, and desperate to make things right.

I couldn’t help but feel the smallest crack in my resolve.

As the morning unfolded, Lando’s sincerity shone through.

He insisted on clearing the table and cleaning up, stealing small glances at me as if trying to gauge my mood.

I wasn’t ready to let go of all the hurt just yet, but for the first time in weeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

Maybe, just maybe, we could find our way back to each other.

The morning's heartfelt apology set the tone for what became one of the most memorable days Lando and I had spent together in weeks.

While I was still guarded, I couldn’t deny that he was trying, really trying, to make things right.

As I got ready to leave the house, he was already by my side, holding my hand, his other arm slung casually around my shoulder.

“I promised today would be all about you,” he said, giving me that signature soft smile.

“So, where to first?”

We started with a trip to the mall. At first, I felt a little awkward, hesitant to fully enjoy the experience.

But Lando was like a lovesick puppy, following me from store to store, holding my bags, and insisting I buy anything that caught my eye.

“Do you like this dress?” I asked, holding up a flowy sundress against myself.

“I love it,” he said without hesitation. “But I’d probably love anything on you.”

I rolled my eyes at his smooth comment but couldn’t help the blush creeping up my cheeks. “You’re just saying that.”

“Nope,” he replied, grabbing the dress and adding it to the pile of things he’d insisted on buying.

From clothes to accessories, he didn’t say no to anything.

When I protested, saying he was spending too much, he brushed it off.

“I’d spend everything on you, Y/N,” he said with such sincerity it made my heart ache.

Afterward, he took me to my favorite café for lunch.

The cozy little place was one we often went to in the early days of our relationship, and the nostalgia hit me hard as we sat down.

“I missed this,” I admitted as I sipped my coffee.

“Me too,” Lando said, reaching across the table to hold my hand.

“And I’m going to make sure we never lose this again.”

Next, he surprised me with a visit to a local pottery studio.

I couldn’t help but laugh when Lando struggled to shape a vase, the clay slipping through his fingers.

“Okay, you’re supposed to keep your hands steady,” I teased, leaning over to guide him.

“Oh, so now you’re an expert?” he joked, though his grin softened as I showed him how to shape the clay.

It was messy, chaotic, and perfect.

By the end, we both had clay smudged on our faces, and we were laughing like we hadn’t in weeks.

From there, we stopped at a flower shop.

Lando picked out the biggest bouquet of my favorite flowers, holding it out to me with a boyish grin.

“For you,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really pulling out all the stops today, aren’t you?” I teased, though my heart swelled as I buried my nose in the fragrant blooms.

“Only the best for my girl,” he replied, his tone playful but his eyes serious.

For the rest of the day, he didn’t leave my side.

He held my hand as we walked through the streets, his arm draped protectively around me whenever we stopped to rest.

He peppered me with kisses at every opportunity; on my cheek, my forehead, my temple.

“You’re being extra clingy today,” I said with a small laugh as he pulled me into another hug.

“Making up for lost time,” he murmured, his chin resting on the top of my head.

Bit by bit, the walls I’d built around my heart began to crumble.

His efforts felt genuine, and I found myself smiling more easily, the hurt from the night before slowly fading into the background.

By the time we got home, the sun was setting, painting the sky in soft shades of pink and orange.

We were both tired but happy as we curled up on the couch together.

Lando tucked me under his arm, his fingers gently tracing patterns on my shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said after a long moment of silence.

His tone was serious, and I looked up at him curiously.

“Yeah?”

“I need to say this again because you deserve to hear it,” he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’m so sorry for everything, for neglecting you, for forgetting our anniversary, for making you feel like you weren’t my priority. You are my priority, Y/N. You’re the best thing in my life, and I hate that I made you feel otherwise.”

His words hit me straight in the chest, and I felt tears pricking at the corners of my eyes.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his hand cupping my cheek as he looked into my eyes.

“But I swear, I’ll spend every day proving how much I love you. I’ll never let you feel like that again.”

My heart felt full as I reached up to hold his hand.

“You’ve done a lot for me today, Lando,” I said softly.

“And it’s helped. I can see how much you mean it.”

“So... does that mean you forgive me?” he asked, his tone hopeful but cautious.

I smiled, leaning up to kiss him. “Yeah, I forgive you.”

The relief on his face was almost comical, and he immediately began peppering my face with kisses, my cheeks, my forehead, my nose, even the corners of my lips.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he murmured between kisses, his joy infectious.

Just when I thought the day was over, Lando suddenly sat up.

“Wait, I have one last thing,” he said, standing and disappearing into the other room.

I frowned, confused, as he returned with a small envelope in hand.

“What is this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“Open it,” he urged, a playful but nervous glint in his eyes.

I carefully tore open the envelope, and my breath caught as I pulled out two plane tickets.

My eyes widened as I read the destination: Maldives.

“Lando… are you serious?” I asked, my voice trembling with disbelief.

He grinned. “You’ve always said you wanted to go. So, I booked us a two-week stay. Just you and me. No distractions.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I looked at him, overwhelmed.

“You didn’t have to do this…”

“Yes, I did,” he said firmly, pulling me into his arms.

“I’ll do anything to make you happy, Y/N. Anything.”

I hugged him tightly, burying my face in his chest.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

“I love you too,” I replied, my voice muffled but sincere.

We settled back into the couch, cuddled up together, the weight of the past few weeks finally lifting.

After a long silence, I broke it with a playful smile.

“If you ever neglect me like that again, I’m breaking up with your ass,” I teased.

Lando laughed, his arms tightening around me. “Fair enough. But don’t worry, I won’t. Not ever again.”

And for the first time in weeks, I believed him.

The end

[screamingatanemptyroom]

“Happy Birthday, my dearest sister!”

Iris walked into her home, the rotting door’s hinges squealing in protest against the movement, only to be greeted by the sight of a brightly decorated room, with a prince holding a cake in the center of it.

Iris let out a quiet sigh, closing the door behind her. She set down her basket of unsold flowers and carefully removed her shoes, cleaning the muddy snow off of them before setting them down in their proper place. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she looked around again.  Her clean but rundown room was all but unrecognizable, with cheerful banners and streamers hung in every available space. The few magical lamps she kept and used sparingly due to the high cost of fuel, were all on at the highest setting, making her frown at the waste.

“…” Iris stared silently at the prince and his advisor behind him, who both stared equally silently back.

"Are you sure this is the one?" He broke first, whispering to the man on his right.

“We are sure, Your Highness. It has been triple confirmed by the court sorcerer. She also bears a star shaped birthmark below her right ear, which was noted at your sister’s birth. This is your long-lost sister, Theodora.” His advisor whispered back.

“…Then why doesn’t she seem excited to see me?”

“Perhaps she’s just overly surprised?”

Iris sighed again.

“Why don’t you have a seat, and we can talk about this over tea.” It had been a long cold day selling flowers on the street, her fingers and toes were numb. She was tired, cold and cranky. This may be a pivotal moment that would change the course of her entire life…

But that was not going to stop her from getting her tea.

The prince shook his head, seeming to break from his shock. “Ah, yes… tea… Gareld…can you…”

“I’ll do it.” Iris interrupted. “He doesn’t know where anything is.” And she didn’t want him snooping around her home, either.

“I can help…” Gareld stepped closer, an uncertain look on his face.

“Both of you. Sit.” Her tone did not allow for argument, and both men sat down, staring silently as she moved around making tea. Iris checked her stock. She still had some dried fairy flowers, which made for a cool refreshing tea when brewed correctly. She hesitated briefly, not really wanting to waste her best tea on these visitors.

I guess Royalty should get your best tea. She tried not to sigh again and failed.

The tea was made quickly. The prince watched appreciatively at her calm, practiced movements, her neatly tied red curls swaying behind her.

“You look just like our mother did, you know.” His voice was wistful, remembering.

“I wouldn’t know.” Her voice was cold.

“…I suppose that is true.” The Prince took the tea she handed him, taking a sip to cover up his embarrassment. He was clearly not expecting much, given their surroundings, but his eyes widened in shock and appreciation. “This is good tea!”

“Thank you.” Iris accepted the complement calmly, drinking from her own cup. “Now can you please explain your purpose here today?”

“Yes. Well.” He was clearly thrown by her calm demeanor but seemed to collect himself. “I am Prince Anthony, the second born prince of the Royal family. I am here because you… you are actually my sister Theodora. You are a princess.”

“…” A silence fell over the table. After drinking more tea and warming herself up, Iris finally picked up the conversation once more.

“I see.”

She stirred her tea, staring down at the dried petals floating on the surface. “If I am your sister, why has that only been discovered now? I have grown up on the streets for as long as I can remember. I have been making a living selling flowers, since the old woman who looked after me died several years ago.”

“…” Anthony seemed embarrassed. “You were switched at birth.”

“By who? And with who?”

He didn’t seem to want to meet her eyes in the face of her calm questions. “I don’t know who switched you two… but you were switched with another girl, who we raised believing to be you. I only know her as Theodora. I don’t know what her name was before the switch she was a newborn, like you.”

“I suppose that makes sense.” He still wasn’t meeting her gaze. Guilty conscience? She wondered.

He seemed to read something in her tone, getting slightly worked up. “Theodora is innocent in this! She was horrified to find out that she wasn’t who she said she was! She cried for days, wishing she could trade places with you, return everything she had taken from you!” He shook his head. “Silly girl, she blames herself for the sins of others. Of course you wouldn’t blame her!”

Iris raised an eyebrow at his confident tone. “Of course.” She smiled, the expression polite but cold. “So, are you here to bring me back to the palace?”

“Yes! When the court mages finally located you, the whole family was anxious to bring you back!” He pointed to the decorations and cake he had brought. “It’s actually your eighteenth birthday! You probably didn’t know.”

“…” Iris studied the cake and decorations. “So why just you?”

“What?” Anthony’s smile faded slowly.

“If the whole family is anxious to get me back, why only send you?” She thought it over. “The Queen died giving birth, but I have another brother besides you, correct? The crown prince, Dominic? And my father is still alive and well?”

There was a long pause, as if he hadn’t expected her to ask that.

“…They are at your sister’s party.” He finally answered.

Iris chuckled. “I have a sister? I was not aware of another princess in the family.”

“It’s Theodora.” He shook his head. “The OTHER Theodora, I mean. We had been planning this celebration for months. We couldn’t move it. In fact, we should probably be leaving soon, or we’ll be late for the party.”

Iris rubbed her forehead tiredly. “Are you planning to bring me to this party?”

“Of course!” Anthony seemed shocked she would even ask. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re my sister!”

“And how are you planning on explaining my identity… and more importantly HER identity, when I show up? Are you making the announcement that she’s a fake princess at her birthday party?” She leaned back, taking another sip of her tea. “That seems unkind.”

“WHAT?” His hand slapped down on the table, rattling the cups and teapot sitting on top. “Theodora is not a fake! She…” Anthony hesitated. “She’s just… a victim, like you.”

“I see.” Iris sat her cup down firmly and smiled again. “Then let’s plan for me to return to the palace tomorrow then. You can go enjoy the birthday party with Theodora, without my presence complicating public perception of her.”  She stood up, not subtly indicating to her guests that they were expected to leave.

Anthony’s expression was complicated. “But… I’m here to bring you back.” He stood up dazedly, his advisor standing up as well, having stayed thoughtfully silent the entire conversation. Iris became guiding them towards the door.

“I know, and thank you. I’ll take tonight to pack my things. Just send a carriage to pick me up in the morning.”

“But… Theodora…” He was obviously calling her, and Iris interrupted him, frowning.

“Just call me Iris. I grew up with the name, and it will be too confusing with two Theodoras running around the castle.”

Anthony grabbed her hand. “But it’s your name. Our mother gave it to you.”

“And someone stole it from me, gave it to someone else and dropped me in the slums to die.” Her tone was dry, but Anthony winced as if she had struck him, letting go of her. “Just call me Iris. It’s easier.”

“Okay… Iris.”

“Good, now goodbye for now. Enjoy the party.”

With that she pushed them out of the door, closing and locking it behind them. She put her back against the wooden panels, ignoring the rough grain digging into her skin, and froze for an unknown amount of time. Slowly, she made her way back to her table, turning down the magical lamps to save fuel, cleaning up the used cups and tea pot, before sitting down and putting her head in her hands.

She was a princess.

Perhaps if anyone else had heard the news, especially someone who had been living in the slums, they would be ecstatic. It was a path forward full of opportunities, a chance to completely change her difficult, cold and lonely life.

But Iris was not excited.

Not that she didn’t want change. She hated her current life, the dangers, the struggle to get by, the constant wariness to protect herself. She was not indifferent to finding her family, either. She had longed for family affection her entire life. The old woman who raised her did so mostly to have someone to run errands for her. There was very little affection between them. To have a father and brothers who would care about her… it was a dream come true…

And unfortunately for her, it was a dream come true.

Every year since she was ten years old, she had had recurring dreams. Odd strange, vibrant dreams. Visions that sometimes seemed more real than the world around her, vividly remembered when she woke up in the morning. At least once a month, sometimes with more frequency, but always in a similar theme.

In her dreams, she lived in another world. A different life, filled with technology and science rather than magic. Of elections and leaders rather than royalty. And in this world she was still called Iris, but was an actress. She participated in many television shows and movies, had a moderate amount of fame, and many fans to cheer her on. But the project she was embroiled in, was a complex plot about a magical realm. Her character was a young woman, a princess who had been separated from birth from her family. She grew up on the streets until her eighteenth birthday at which time she was found and returned home.

An interesting, dramatic story. There was just one problem:

Her character wasn’t the heroine.

She was the villain.

Or one of the villains. Not even the main threat to the hero and heroine. She returned to the palace, only to find a replacement her family loved dearly in her spot. Filled with jealousy and spite, she spent most of her time trying to set traps for the woman who took her place, only to have each and every plot go wrong. The woman she hated escaped time and time again, and slowly, her father the king and her brothers grew weary of her trouble, sending her overseas to be married to an old and perverted foreign king. They had thought she would be married to one of his sons, but didn’t spend enough time or effort to show her importance to the royal family. Coveting her beauty, the old king took her into his harem.

She jumped off the roof of the palace on the night of her wedding. None of her family knew of or mourned her loss.

The heroine, the girl who had grown up as the princess she was meant to be, thrived under the love and care of the king and princes. She ended up marrying a neighboring prince, the fiancé that had been promised since birth, a man who Iris’ character had also fallen in love with, but failed at all attempts to get close.

Most of her dreams centered around the filming of this project.

Iris had always been confused by these dreams, convinced it just a strange experience that meant nothing, until one year ago, when she heard a story teller in a tavern talking about the royal family:

The crown prince Dominic. The second born prince Anthony. The princess Theodora.

All names she knew very well.

The characters in the story her dream-self acted in.

And the more she pondered this, the clearer it became. Her age, her features, the distinctive birthmark… Iris remembered having the make up artist draw it on below her ear in her dream, but she didn’t need make up in the waking world. She had the birth mark, a clear small star, since she was a child. A mark that meant something horrible:

She was the lost princess.

She was the villainess, doomed to be hated, to be sent away and kill herself in despair.

Over the last year she paid close attention to her dreams, writing down what she remembered, trying to understand the story of her possible future. Even as she prepared, she hoped, deep in her heart, that her dreams were wrong. That they were a strange delusion, a mix of stories of the royal family and facts about herself, combined in her sleeping brain. Maybe it was just what she had thought it was before: a peculiar dream.

Until her eighteenth birthday arrived.

And Prince Anthony arrived with it, right on schedule.

She stared down at her clenched fists, as the multicolored streamers hung around her, a cake sitting coldly in front of her, the icing starting to melt, and sighed.

She was unsure why she had been given these dreams, this warning of her future.

But she did understand one thing:

She would not suffer the same fate as the character Iris had played in her dreams.

_____________________________________________

Prince Anthony sat in his carriage, traveling back to the palace. He leaned back against the cushions, his eyes closed, his brow furrowed. As they drew closer to home, he finally spoke up, breaking the tense silence.

“Gareld… did I do something wrong?”

“Your Highness?”

Anthony opened his eyes, a confused light in the dark pupils. “I thought she would be excited to learn she had family. All the information about her… her struggles to survive by selling flowers… with no one to help her… I thought she would leap at the chance to go home.”

“She didn’t seem UNHAPPY, sir.”

“But she wasn’t happy, either.” He sighed, twisting a ring on his right hand. “Should I not have brought up Theodora?”

Gareld shook his head. “It’s not like you could have avoided it. Better she know now then find out at the palace.”

“I know it’s not her fault… she’s a victim too. So, she shouldn’t blame Theodora, right? But why do I feel so guilty?”

“Princess Theodora and Princess Iris were both the subject of this malicious swap… but Princess Theodora grew up loved and cherished, a princess where she may not have enjoyed such luxury before, but Princess Iris… She has suffered more.” Gereld hesitated. “Besides, your father and Prince Dominic have not determined how to settle Princess Theodora’s identity. If they fully restore Princess Iris to her place, that will cause many issues for Theodora, not excluding her marriage arrangement to Prince Greyson. If you had brought Princess Iris to the party tonight… they may have made a rash decision to protect Princess Theodora, even at the cost of your new sister.”

“I almost caused her harm, didn’t I?”

“Not intentionally, Your Highness.”

“I just wanted to bring her home.” Anthony whispered, feeling pain in his heart and her bland, cold expression when facing him. “Why is it so complicated?”

“You father and brother will figure things out. I would just focus on making your sister feel welcome. It will be a difficult transition, no matter what.”

Anthony seemed to come to a determination, an excited light in his eye. “All right then! I’ll make sure she’s taken care of! Let’s go make sure Iris’s room and servants are arranged properly!”

Gareld looked confused. “What about Princess Theodora’s party?”

“I already gave her my gift, she’ll understand. There are hundreds of people there. But my sister… she doesn’t have anyone. I need to make sure she’s welcomed!”

_____________________________________________

Iris ate a piece of the cake her brother had left, enjoying the high-quality treat. It reminded her of the cakes in her dream. There had a been a special bakery she had gone to, usually on her birthday. She had to sneak there, her agent and personal trainer strictly forbid sweets. She had not had the chance to taste such delicious things in this world, though, her money was better spent on things for survival.

After she finished, she made her way to her room, opening a secret panel behind her bed. Her home was small, and even smaller after she built a secret compartment in the back. But it had been worth it, to keep her secrets safe. As she entered the room, she was surrounded by flowers. Hundreds of colorful bright flowers, each in the state of perfect bloom. On the wall, small pots of herbs grew heartily, their grassy scent combining with the sweet smell of the flowers.

Her first advantage was knowing her story, and with that came certain benefits.

Like knowing she had magical abilities solely available to royal blood. In the story, one of the reasons the king brought Iris back was that he needed to use her gifts, which included the ability to grow plants in any environment. She had agreed readily in the story, hoping to earn her father’s affection by aiding him. Unfortunately for her, her usefulness did not outweigh her shortcomings, as she targeted Theodora again and again. And the king chose to abandon her with little hesitation.

Iris frowned, feeling a stabbing pain in her heart. She thought she had come to peace with her knowledge of the future. However, at the thought of the father she had never met, a strong desire for family affection and love still rose within her. She firmly pushed it down, focusing on the room around her.

Once she suspected the reality of the dream, she had used the knowledge of the story to tap into her royal magic. There was still strict limits on her abilities, mostly by the seeds she had access too and the space she had to grow, but it allowed her to sell fresh, beautiful flowers, even in the midst of winter.  

The herbs had proved useful as well.

She carefully packed a few small choice plants and seeds, only carrying a tiny fraction of the room within. She wasn’t ready to reveal her knowledge of her abilities just yet. The more she knew, and the less they knew, the better.

Iris packed the remainder of her belongings, fitting everything into two small bags. She then laid down, and prepared to rest.

Tomorrow she would see her family, and the heroine of this story, Theodora.

She was ready.

_____________________________________________

As promised by Anthony, a royal carriage arrived in the morning to pick her up. She handed her bags to the footman and prepared to step in, only to pause at the sight of a hand reaching out to help her in to the carriage.

Surprised, she saw Anthony’s grinning face and took his hand, letting him help her to the seat across from him. “Why are you here?”

“I can’t let my little sister come home alone, can I?”

He spent the ride to the palace chattering in a cheerful tone about the arrangements he had done to set up her living space. Iris listened in somewhat of a daze, feeling unsure.

Iris had not been arranged living quarters in the story. In fact, that was the source of one of the early conflicts between the heroine and the villainess. Iris had been mentally preparing for that confrontation… only to find out the story had already changed.

Did delaying my arrival to the next morning already change things so much? It both relieved Iris to know she COULD change things, and terrified her about whether she SHOULD. Her advantage was based mainly in her knowledge of the story, but if that changed… she would be on her own.

“Are you okay?” Anthony noticed her distraction, pausing in his descriptions to check in with her.

Iris smiled at him, the first genuine smile she had given him since his arrival on her birthday. “I’ll be okay.” And I will. My goal is to get a different ending for myself. A better ending. And the only way to do that is to change things. She took a deep breath, steadying herself. This is a good start.

She looked out the window, unaware that her brother had frozen in shock at the sight of her bright smile. When she smiled like that, her eyes lit up, and she looked just liked their mother. He cheered himself on, glad he had chosen to spend time arranging for her arrival.

As the carriage came to a stop, Anthony helped her down from the carriage, leading her in excitedly towards the royal quarters. As he entered a central sitting room, he called out:

“Father! Dominic! I brought her!”

Two men in the room stood up at his words, turning to look at Iris.

And iris studied them as well.

Tall, handsome, with light hair and grey eyes, they looked very different from her, who resembled their mother with her red hair and more delicate features. Anthony pointed at them, and grinned to Iris.

“This is your father, and your oldest brother!”

The older of the two stepped forward, a solemn look on his lined face.

“Theodora, you’ve returned.”

At his words, a beautiful young woman who was sitting on a nearby couch stood up, her lightly curled blond locks swaying behind her. She reached forward, grabbing the King’s hand with a brave smile.

“Silly me, I almost thought you were talking to me, Father! But of course you are talking to your real daughter.” She turned to Iris with a tearful expression. “Sister, I must beg for your forgiveness! Even though I am a victim of this switch as well, and have lost my blood relatives, I have grown up with father and brothers, who have treated me well. You deserve to take everything, it should have been yours from the start!” She began to cry, while Iris watched on.

Good tears, nice volume, angles her face well to take advantage of the shape and appear more remorseful.  

As someone who had lived years inside her dreams as a professional actress, however, it was too fake.

Iris recognized this scene, although the setting was different. It was the meeting between Theodora the heroine and Iris the villainess.

_____________________________________________

“Scene 4, Take 2. ACTION!”

CLACK!

Theodora stepped closer, tears still running down her face. “Sister, I can never repay what you have lost, but first, I will give you back your name. I have held it for too long!” She sobbed prettily into her hands. “I don’t know what I’ll go by… but you can be Theodora… the real Theodora from now on!”

“Wait!” The King spoke up, patting Theodora gently on the head. “Let’s not be too hasty. We have been calling Theodora by this name for eighteen years. It would be silly to change things now.”

Theodora smiled at him, but then cast a worried glance at Iris, as if afraid of her anger. “But what should we call sister then?”

“My name is…”

“Let’s call her Dora.” Dominic spoke up, interrupting his sister’s words. “We shorten Theodora’s name to Theo sometimes, so Dora would be the most appropriate.”

She stared at her family with growing rage. “Theodora is MY name! Why can’t I be called by MY NAME? Why does this… this… FAKE… get to keep MY NAME!”

Theodora broke down. “I knew sister hates me! I should leave the palace! I’ll just make her sadder if I stay!”

Anthony stepped in. “Of course you’re not leaving! You’re our sister no matter what!” He turned to his sister. “Apologize to Theodora… Dora!”

“CUT!”

_____________________________________________

Iris looked up, just in time to see Theodora step closer, right on cue. “Sister, I can never repay what you have lost, but first, I will give you back your name…”

“No, that’s okay, you keep it. I’ll just go by Iris.” Iris interrupted her, bringing up a gentle, kind smile. Using her memories of acting, she looked at Theodora as if looking a loved family member. “I know you must be uncomfortable, with me showing up out of nowhere. You have been with my father and brothers all these years, taking care of them when I couldn’t. I must thank you, dear Theodora. I couldn’t possibly take your name!”

“…What?” Theodora forgot to keep pretending to cry, staring at Iris with consternation.

“It’s nice to see you are a sensible girl.” The King spoke up, smiling approvingly at them both. “We will refer to you as Iris. Welcome home!”

“We’ll need to settle their identities.” Dominic looked at Iris cautiously, his eyes calculating. “After all, Theodora has publicly been the princess for the last eighteen years.”

Iris smiled. “I will follow whatever you and father think is best.”

Before Dominic could speak again, Anthony jumped in. “Let’s discuss it later. Iris has to see her new rooms!” Ignoring any awkwardness, he grabbed Iris’ hand and pulled her further into the palace.

Iris turned and smiled at the three as she was led away. She especially enjoyed Theodora’s annoyed face, before she quickly gained control of her expression.

Alright, first confrontation is a point for me. Only a few hundred more to go. She turned back to her brother who led her away, feeling warm. I don’t know why he’s different… but I’m glad he is.

As she was about to speak up to thank him, however, Anthony came to a sudden halt, causing her to crash into his back.

“Ouch!” She grabbed her nose which had been the main point of impact, her eyes tearing from the blow, and looked past her brother at the point of obstruction.

“Mage Vicente! What brings you to the palace?” Anthony seemed confused, but not nervous.

The man who blocked them looked at them both with a calm smile. He was a young man, good looking enough to make even Iris who had memories of working with multiple top-level actors take notice. His hair was covered under a hood, a large cloak covering most of his tall form, but his eyes, a bright green color, were filled with a knowledge that made whoever looked in them nervous.

Iris stared at him, confused.

There was no mention of a Mage Vincente in the story in her dreams.

Who is this? A very minor character?  Iris felt she would have remembered him.

“I was just here to confirm something.” Vincente studied Iris carefully, then nodded. “Welcome back, Your Highness.”

Iris felt like his words had a deeper meaning, but was unsure of what it could be.

“It was Vincente whose magic confirmed that you were the true princess, Iris!” Anthony spoke up.

“I see.” Iris was more confused than ever, made worse by the fact that he seemed very familiar… but she couldn’t remember from where. “Thank you, sir.”

“My pleasure, Iris.” He bowed solemnly, but his eyes seemed… amused… more than anything. Without another word, he walked away, his robe swaying with his wide steps.

“Don’t mind him, Iris. All mages are a bit odd.”

“Odd…” Iris watched the man’s leaving back. “That seems to be the right word for it.”

They arrived at her rooms, which were carefully decorated and filled with beautiful furniture, jewelry, makeup and clothes. Anthony showed her around the room, pointing with glee at the different choices he had made.

“I don’t know if the gowns will fit, so I’ll have the dressmaker stop by later today to help fit you! Hopefully these will be a good start!” He grinned at her, and Iris smiled back.

“Thank you… Brother.” She stepped forward, giving him a cautious hug. Anthony hugged her tightly back, blinking back tears.

“Welcome home!” After a few more words he left, and Iris was alone.

She looked around the rooms, overwhelmed.

The story is already so different. My brother, these rooms, the meeting… the mage.”

She remembered vividly the scene of her character jumping to her death in a foreign land.

“Not different enough.” She muttered.

She would change the story completely.

This… was just the start.

You are a poor girl selling flowers. Today is your birthday but no one knows. When you return home you find the prince of the kingdom waiting for you with a birthday cake. "Are you sure this is the one?" He whispers to his advisor.

[summervb]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐭 | thanos (player 230) × fem!reader

summary | Thanos constantly harasses you until you stand up to him

warnings | strong language, drug use, physical confrontation, kissing

word count | 1.6 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me thanks ᡣ𐭩

It all started with a look—one of those glances people give you when they underestimate you. Of course, you were used to it. Here, no one expected much from a girl like you: small, quick, and quiet. And Player 230, whom everyone called Thanos, was no exception.

From day one, that jerk had decided you were his personal entertainment. He provoked you whenever he could, shoving you as he passed, making sarcastic remarks about how "weak" you looked, and making it clear that if he ever had the chance, he wouldn’t hesitate to crush you.

You put up with it because there wasn’t much choice. In this place, showing weakness was a death sentence, and an open confrontation with someone like him could be just as dangerous. But today, something inside you snapped.

It was the fifth game, a test of endurance and precision. Everyone was tense, including the guards patrolling the room. You focused on your strategy, ignoring the murmurs and stares. Then, as always, he showed up.

“Look who’s here, our little rat. Ready to run away when things get tough?”

His voice echoed behind you, and you could hear the smug grin in his tone. You didn’t bother turning around.

“Don’t you have anything better to do, 230?” you replied, trying to stay calm.

He let out a laugh. “No, not really. Watching you fail is the only entertaining thing here.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, a gesture that was anything but friendly. You swatted it away, turning to face him.

“You know what? That’s enough. I’m sick of your crap.”

His eyes widened slightly in surprise, but he quickly recovered his mocking expression. “Well, well. The little rat has claws.”

Your heart was pounding, but you weren’t going to back down. Not this time.

“And what about you? What do you have? Besides a big mouth and a small brain?”

A murmur rippled through the room. The other players were watching the scene unfold with interest, some even smirking. It was rare for anyone to stand up to Thanos, let alone in public.

For a moment, you thought he was going to hit you. He stepped closer, and you could feel his heavy breath, mixed with the unmistakable stench of something chemical. Drugs. You’d noticed it before—his dilated pupils, his slightly clumsy movements.

“You know what’s funny?” he said, leaning toward you. His voice, usually loud and commanding, sounded almost… confused. Like he couldn’t decide whether to laugh at you or with you.

“What?” you snapped, not breaking eye contact.

“I like your attitude.” The grin on his face widened, but this time it didn’t seem mocking. It was different, disoriented.

What happened next took you completely by surprise. Before you could react, his hands grabbed your arms—not forcefully. He looked at you as if he were seeing something new, something he didn’t fully understand, and then… he kissed you.

It was quick, clumsy, and so unexpected that for a moment, you didn’t know how to react. Your brain took a few seconds to process what was happening, but when it did, you shoved him away with all the strength you had.

“What the hell are you doing?” you yelled, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

He stumbled back, a satisfied smile plastered across his face.

“You’re sexy when you’re angry, you know?”

Your blood boiled. The air in the room seemed to freeze. The other players stared at you—some horrified, others trying to stifle their laughter. The guards, as always, did nothing, letting the chaos unfold on its own.

“You’re insane,” you said, not bothering to lower your voice.

He took a step toward you, but this time, you stepped forward first.

“No. I’m warning you—don’t come any closer.”

Something in your tone must have reached him because he stopped. He blinked a couple of times, as if trying to process your words, and then let out a low, almost raspy laugh.

“You know, I think I like you more than I thought.”

You couldn’t believe it. This idiot was definitely high and didn’t seem to have any idea how inappropriate his behavior was. But instead of feeling intimidated, a wave of fury surged through you.

“If you ever touch me again,” you said, pointing a finger at him, “I swear you won’t walk out of the next game.”

For a moment, he just stared at you. And then, to your surprise, he nodded.

“Fine, little rat. But don’t be surprised if you change your mind someday.”

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters breaking up with you x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: gosh i loovee drama i'ts so spicy and fun! btw i cried a lot with ekko's... anyways request are open, darlings ;)

reconciliation link:

Viktor

The laboratory was shrouded in a deep silence, the kind of silence that feels heavy, as if the air itself was dense, pressing down on your chest. The light from the screens flickered in the darkness, casting shadows that moved with the rhythm of the science Viktor had created. He was there, motionless in front of the table covered in blueprints, his head lowered, as if struggling with something he couldn’t share.

You stood there for a moment, watching him in silence, waiting for him to break the silence, but something in his posture told you he wouldn’t. The distance between you felt greater than you could bear, and the knot in your stomach grew heavier with each passing second. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Viktor…” Your voice trembled, but you forced it to sound strong. Every word felt like a challenge to your own fear. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t look at you, but his shoulders tensed. The sigh that escaped his lips was full of something you couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t frustration, nor exhaustion. It was something worse, something you already feared.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he finally said, his voice low but clear. “I can’t stop now. This is bigger than us. I can’t lose what I’ve been building. The machine… the transformation… It’s the only way to save myself, to save us.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine. It couldn’t be. You were sure you must have misheard, but the words kept echoing in your head like a drumbeat. It wasn’t just about science. It wasn’t just his obsession. Viktor was pushing you away. And the pain, the pain was unbearable.

You stepped forward, your heart pounding in your throat. How could he do this to you?

“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice was a whisper, but the venom of desperation was there, cutting through your words. “An obstacle? Something you have to leave behind? All this time, everything I’ve done for you… And this is what I get?”

Finally, Viktor looked at you. But it wasn’t the look you expected. His eyes, so cold, so distant, weren’t the eyes of the person you had known. It wasn’t the Viktor you had protected, the one you had loved. It was someone else, someone who no longer saw in you what they once did.

“I do love you, you know?” he said, his voice broken, as if the words were becoming harder and harder to say. “I love you more than you can imagine, but this… this is bigger than us. This is the future, and I can’t risk losing it because… because of something as small as my own feelings.”

The words came out of his mouth as though they were the only thing left inside him. And you, standing there in front of him, felt the ground crumbling beneath your feet. The pain, the betrayal, cut through you like blades.

“And what about us, Viktor?” you said, unable to stop the mix of anger and sadness in your voice. “What about everything we’ve shared? Everything we’ve been through together? Doesn’t that mean anything? Nothing to you?”

He took a step back, each word he spoke a wall being built between you two. With each word, you felt smaller, more invisible. As if he had already made his choice.

“I can’t go on. I can’t be the person you need. If I stay… if I stay with you, all of this… everything I’ve built, everything I am, will crumble. I can’t be that person anymore.”

The pain overwhelmed you in an instant. A silent sob began to rise, but you didn’t let it escape. The knot in your throat tightened, but the words couldn’t come out anymore. You felt empty, as if the air you were breathing was the same air that had killed everything that once meant something to you.

“Then, goodbye, Viktor.” Your words were a broken whisper. “I can’t wait for you to choose between me and your obsessions. I won’t stay here, watching you lose yourself in something you don’t even know what it is.”

Viktor didn’t say anything more. There was no attempt to stop you, no plea, not even a look of regret. Just the sound of his breathing, shallow, as if something inside him was breaking too, but it was too late.

The door slammed shut behind you, the sound of the wood ringing in your ears. And Viktor, inside, remained alone with his experiments, his machines, and the man who had decided that everything else had to go.

Jinx

You approached her softly, as you always did, trying to calm her, trying to make her focus on you again. But you knew this wasn’t the same Jinx who used to laugh and be unpredictable. Something in her gaze told you she had gotten lost, that her thoughts were no longer hers, that the chaos in her mind had taken control.

Suddenly, Jinx stopped moving. She stood still, staring into the void, and everything around her grew quieter. Then, she began to murmur, as if speaking to herself, but her words weren’t clear. You grew concerned, stepping closer, but that was when her body reacted violently, out of control.

You didn’t understand what was happening until you felt the sting of a blow. You hadn’t seen it coming, but the pain hit you instantly. In that moment, fear took over, and your body trembled as you tried to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened. Jinx looked at you, but her eyes weren’t focused on you. She was trapped, lost in a hallucination.

The voices started. “Kill her! She’s going to betray you, Jinx! Kill her before she leaves you!” The voice was cruel, disdainful, so cold. And then, another voice, softer but equally terrifying: “She hates you. She doesn’t want you, Jinx. Let her go before you do it again!”

You froze, watching the confusion in her eyes, the terror on her face. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the Jinx you knew. She was caught in an internal struggle, a battle that you couldn’t fight for her.

You stepped closer to her, despite the blood dripping from your nose and your trembling hands. Jinx was crouched down, her eyes lost in an empty space, her hands covering her face as if she could hide the pain and chaos she had just caused. But you knew you couldn’t run from this. You couldn’t leave her now. Not after everything you’d been through together. And not after the promise you made to her.

“Sweets,” you whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure she could hear you. “Please, look at me.”

Tears kept falling from her eyes, but she didn’t see you. Jinx didn’t see you. And the blow she had struck you moments ago seemed like a distant memory compared to what was happening now: the emptiness she was feeling. The war in her head.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice broken, shattered. “I didn’t want… I didn’t want to hurt you. I can’t… I can’t do it again. I… I hurt you.”

You knelt in front of her, searching for her eyes, feeling the knot in your throat. But she wouldn’t look at you. She was trapped. And you knew what that meant.

“Wake up, babe,” you said firmly, taking her hands. “I promised you. I won’t leave you. Not now, not ever.”

The voices in her mind began to rumble, like an overwhelming wave, growing louder, rougher. “She’s going to kill you! Kill her before it’s too late! It’s best for her! Do it now!”

“No… no,” Jinx said, covering her ears as if she could silence them. “No… I’ll hurt you… I don’t want to lose you! I swear I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m a monster!”

You stood up, forcing Jinx to look at you, taking her by the shoulders. “You’re not a monster. You’re not, Jinx. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. I promised!”

But Jinx started sobbing, with a desperation so deep it hurt to see her like this. “You… you don’t understand. I’m the cause of all this. I’m the worst for you… It’s going to hurt so much if I stay close. You’re going to die! I’m the reason why you…”

“No!” you interrupted, gripping her hands tightly. “Don’t say that. I’m not leaving. I need you. You’re the only one who… who has understood me. Don’t leave me. I promised I’d be by your side.”

Jinx pulled away from you with a sigh, her face filled with guilt and desperation. “You deserve something better, something… more. You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to put up with my madness, you don’t have to stay for me.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!” you shouted, desperate. “You’re what I want. You’re what I’ve always wanted. Don’t leave me!”

But Jinx walked away, her steps wavering but firm. “I can’t… I don’t want to be the cause of your death, the cause of… the worst. You’ve given me everything, you’ve given me more than I deserve, but… you could be happy without me. I’m a burden, a curse. And… and I don’t want to lose you more. I don’t want to kill you.”

The voices in her mind grew more intense, more cruel: “Do it! Let her go, Jinx! She’s better off without you.”

“Wait!” you screamed, your eyes filled with tears. “You’re not a burden! I love you, Jinx, I love you! I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone, and I won’t leave you now!”

But Jinx’s words were clear, heartbreaking. “You… you’d be happy without me. I’m the reason for all the pain, for everything that’s made you suffer. And if I stay… I’ll hurt you, I’ll always do it.”

Jinx took a step back, her heart breaking inside, while you kept holding on to her. “I’m leaving. Because… because if I stay close, I’ll do the same thing as always. And you… don’t deserve that.”

“No,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined. “I need you. I need you, Jinx.”

But she was already so lost in her own mind that she couldn’t hear you.

She looked at you for a long moment, her eyes filled with guilt and sadness, and with a painful sigh, she turned away. “I’m sorry… I swear. I’m so sorry.” And in that instant, she left you behind.

Vi

When you enter the house, the sound of Vi limping towards you makes you take a step forward. You stay still, observing her wounds: a black eye, swollen lips, blood still dripping from a cut on her arm.

"Vi," you begin, anger taking over you, "You can't keep doing this! I can't see you like this! For a few damn coins? I can pay for everything you need, whatever you want, you don't have to do this!"

Vi shoots you a glaring look, her breath heavy from the effort, but her pride intact. "What do you know, huh? What the hell do you know about sacrifice? About fighting to survive, about having no other option but to fuck yourself over to get more than scraps?"

"You don't have to fight, Vi. You don't have to risk your life like this, for a few damn coins. I can give you whatever you want!" you shout, tears threatening to spill, the helplessness making your voice tremble. "I don't want you to hurt yourself for pride! I want you, and you're killing me seeing you like this!"

Vi takes a step back, her look as hard as stone. "I don't need anything from you! No money, no help! I can take care of myself, do you hear me? I'm not your damn fragile doll, I'm not your entertainment! I'm not your fucking fun."

"It's not that! It's not fun, I care about you, Vi! I can't stand seeing you destroy yourself over something so stupid!" Your breathing grows more ragged, your heart pounding hard in your chest. "I don't want you to keep destroying yourself for pride!"

Vi laughs bitterly, her tone cruel. "You think you're the only one who knows what it is to suffer? You think just because you're some princess from Piltover you can judge me for what I do, for what I am? You've never had to fight for anything in your life! You were born in a fucking silk bed, surrounded by luxuries, and you don't know what it's like to live in the shit, in the mud of Zaun."

The poison in her words hits you like a slap. "Why do you judge me like that when you know it's not true? I've told you, I want to help you, get you out of this shitty life that's consuming you."

Vi takes another step back, her eyes full of disdain. "And what, now you want to make me your project? Your experiment? A poor girl from Zaun who can throw her whole world away just so you can feel better about yourself? Is that what you want? To have a 'girl from the slums' story? I bet you'd get bored of me! Of me and what I am!"

Your words choke in your throat, the truth of her accusations ripping through the air between you. Vi keeps staring harshly, stepping back again. "I'm not what you need, and that's it. I don't want you to be my savior, I don't want to be your fucking project. I'm not going to stay here, waiting for you to cure me, to turn me into something I'm not."

"Vi..." you whisper, tears now falling uncontrollably from your face. "Why... why are you doing this to me?"

"Because we don't have to be together. If I stay with you, I'll just kill you too." Vi takes one last step back, and her voice softens, but not enough to stop the damage. "I don't want to be your fun anymore, I don't want to be your damn experiment. I want you to be happy, to live your life. Far from me."

The silence says it all. Vi turns around, and before you can say anything else, she leaves, leaving you alone in the cold space, with only your tears and her broken words remaining.

Caitlyn

The light in the cell is dim, the coldness of the place surrounds you as you stand there, completely in shock. The shackles on your wrists are a brutal reminder of what just happened. You can't believe it. Caitlyn, the woman who showed you love, the one you thought would never hurt you, has left you here, between these cold and dark walls.

The door creaks open, and there she is, Caitlyn. Her face, usually full of compassion and determination, is now empty, almost indifferent. You watch her approach, and for a moment, you hope she'll come to free you, that she'll tell you it was all a misunderstanding. But no.

"Why?" you manage to say, your voice broken with pain. "Cait... do you really think I could betray you?"

She doesn't answer immediately. She just looks at you with eyes full of conflict, her face serious, even cold. The tension in the air is palpable, and you can see the internal struggle in her. Finally, she sighs, and her words come out of her mouth like a sentence.

"I don't know," she replies coldly. "You're under suspicion now. I can't let you escape."

The weight of her words falls on you like a stone. Your heart stops for a moment, and a lump in your throat prevents you from speaking. You can't believe what you've just heard. The woman who swore to protect you, the one who shared your bed and your laughter, now accuses you of being a traitor.

"But... I just wanted to bring peace, Caitlyn," you whisper, feeling how despair is consuming you. "How can you think I would do something like that? I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted..." The words break in your throat, and the anguish in your chest is unbearable. "Do you really think I'll be capable of lying to you and cause a revolution?"

Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if she’s searching for answers she can’t find. "I can't risk it, I can't let what you did go unanswered," she says, her voice harder now. "My duty is to Piltover, to justice. I can't be weak."

You step closer to her, hands outstretched, tears overflowing from your eyes. "Caitlyn, please, don't do this to me... I'm not the traitor you think I am. I love you. We promised we'll always have each other's back. Don't you remember that?"

She takes a step back, and her expression hardens even more. "I'm sorry," she says with a broken voice, but her eyes show no regret. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't let you remain free, not after everything you've put into doubt."

And before you can say anything else, Caitlyn turns her back to you, her footsteps moving away. "I'll keep you in the cell until everything is resolved," she says without turning. "But I can't trust you now."

The door slams shut with a metallic noise, and the sound of the locks clicking into place is all you hear. You fall to your knees, the anguish overtaking you. All you wanted was to be with her, to do the right thing, but now you're here, a prisoner of a justice you don't understand. The betrayal hurts, not because it was done to you, but because the person you love most has now turned their back on you.

Jayce

The conversation had started calmly, like all the others. But something had changed. The tension in the air grew as the words left your lips, and you could see the discomfort on Jayce's face.

"Jayce, enough," you say, your words full of frustration. "I know you want to do great things, but not at the cost of everything else. You can't keep sacrificing everything for your ambition."

He looks at you, surprise and annoyance mixing in his eyes. "I don't understand what you mean," he replies, his tone tense. "Do you think I'm doing this just for myself? I'm fighting for a better future for everyone."

"You don't see it, Jayce!" you shout, unable to contain the emotion choking you. "You've forgotten about the people who really matter to you. Everything you do is for power, for control, for your image. There's no place for me in your life, no space for what we are."

Jayce crosses his arms, his gaze harder than ever. "Is that what you think? That everything I do makes no sense? I'm trying to save Piltover, build something bigger than us. And what do you want? For me to give you more time to be by your side? For everything to revolve around you?"

The pain pierces your chest like a dagger. "It was never about that, Jayce," you say with a broken voice. "I always wanted to be by your side, support you in what you do. But I feel like a shadow. Like you can never see me, like my life, my dreams, everything I am, isn't enough."

He takes a step back, and the distance between the two of you seems to grow with every word that leaves his mouth. "You don't understand," he says coldly, his eyes now so distant. "What I do is bigger than anything I could offer you. If you can't understand that, if you can't meet me at my level, then maybe we're not what we thought we were."

"What are you saying?" you ask, feeling your heart flip. "Are you telling me that everything we've been doesn't matter? That I'm not enough for you?"

Jayce takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own thoughts before speaking. "It's not that. But I'm tired of you asking me to put you above everything I'm trying to build. If that means losing you, then..." his voice cracks for a second, but he recovers quickly. "Then it's what I have to do."

An emptiness opens in your stomach, and the world seems to crumble around you. "So you're leaving me. Just like that, as if I never meant anything to you." You look at him with disappointment.

Jayce lowers his gaze, avoiding your eyes, and his words hit like a blow. "I don't want you dragging me backward. You have to understand, I can't do this anymore."

Tears well up in your eyes, but you don't let them fall. "If that's what you want, Jayce, if that's what you really think is best for you, then goodbye. I hope you don't lose yourself on your way to perfection."

And in that moment, the words between you become empty. Jayce turns around, without even looking at you one more time, and walks away without saying another word. You stand there, in the middle of the place you once considered your refuge, while the echo of his indifference lingers in your ears.

Ekko

The house is silent, but the air is thick with tension. Ekko's gaze, which usually radiated passion and energy, now seems empty, lost in thoughts that don't include you. You watch him from the door, the knot in your throat preventing you from speaking.

"Ekko," you manage to say, your voice almost breaking, "I can't take it anymore."

He looks at you, seeming surprised, but he doesn't approach. The silence stretches between you two, as if you both know what's coming but neither of you wants to say it.

"What can't you take anymore?" his voice is low, as if he's too exhausted to argue. "What do you want me to do, huh? I'm doing what I have to do for Zaun, for everyone here. I can't just stop. I can't anymore."

"Can't stop? Are you really saying that?" Anger begins to take control, and helplessness mixes with pain. "Ekko, I've been watching you disappear more and more into your missions, your plans, everything that keeps you busy in Zaun. And I... what am I to you? A nuisance? A distraction?"

Ekko takes a step back, the exhaustion on his face becoming more evident. "It's not that, but..." He falls silent for a moment, as if words aren't enough to explain how he feels. "I can't keep living in two worlds, in two realities, and you know it. Zaun needs all of me, and you... you don't understand what that means. I can't be the Zaun guy and be your boyfriend at the same time."

"So, all of this was a mistake?" you ask, desperation about to drown you. "Everything we shared? Everything we built? Doesn't that matter? Does Zaun matter more?"

"Yes, sometimes it matters more," Ekko replies, his voice cold, but his gaze betrays him. "You... you're part of my life, I know. But I have to be objective and realistic, and no matter how much I love you, right now, you can't be a priority in my life. I can't be who you want me to be anymore. I can't be the guy who fights for you and for Zaun at the same time. I need to be one or the other, and Zaun needs me now."

"And I need you too," you say, the pain in your words, "but you don't see it anymore, do you? I'm not enough, I'm not what you need. I feel used and stupid," you said angrily, kicking a chair.

Ekko looks at you, his gaze wavering, as if there's an internal struggle he can't win. "Believe me, no one wants this to work more than I do, baby, but I... I'm not capable of giving you what you want, and neither are you to me."

The silence stretches into what feels like an eternity. You approach him, desperation overtaking you. "Ekko, please. Think about it one more time, we can't leave things like this. You've taught me to fight. Isn't it worth fighting for this?"

"Sometimes there are battles that aren't worth fighting because you know you'll never win them," he said, his words burning like acid in his throat. He kissed your forehead and stepped away from your personal space. "I'm sorry..." he murmured, and for a moment, he seemed tempted to hug you, but he didn't. "I'm sorry. But this is what's best for both of us."

The words destroy both of you.

Reality hits you like a bucket of cold water in the middle of winter. Everything you'd feared, everything you'd known deep in your heart, is happening. Ekko is pulling away, and even though you understand, you can't accept that the love you shared is no longer enough to keep him.

"Is this for real?" you ask, tears falling uncontrollably. "Is this what you're giving me? A cold goodbye because Zaun is more important than me?"

"Zaun needs a leader," Ekko replies, his voice broken but resolute. "And I need to be that leader. I can't be what you need, not now."

You stand there, feeling how the void between you grows larger, as Ekko turns and walks away, taking with him the last hope of what once was.

Silco

The rain hit the windows of Silco's office with force, the sound almost deafening as you leaned against the wall, breathing irregularly. You had been rescued again, once more on the brink of death, another attempt on your life, and once again, Silco was there to save you. But something in his gaze, cold, distant, made you fear the worst. You didn’t understand what was happening, but something had changed. Something in him.

“This is over,” he said after a long pause.

“What do you mean by that?” Your voice trembled.

Silco looked at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t read, something darker than the usual shadow he carried. He took a step toward you, but his presence was no longer comforting. His gaze remained fixed, as if he was deliberately pushing you away from him.

“It’s for the best,” his tone was low, almost hesitant, but the coldness in his words made you freeze. “I can't keep exposing you to this. You don't belong in this world. I can’t risk you anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Your words barely came out, drowned by the pain of his cold resolve. “Silco… you don’t have the right to decide for me. I choose to stay, I choose to remain here by your side.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he took another step back. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice deeper than ever. “I don’t want to protect you anymore. You’re a burden, a burden I can’t carry any longer. I’m tired of you.”

The blow was like a stab to the chest. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. “What? You’re tired of me?” Your words came out choked, unable to grasp the cruelty he had just expressed.

“The rumors are true,” he said with a harshness that froze the air between you both. “I’ve only seen you as a little distraction. A good pet. A weakness. Nothing more. I had fun, yes, but that’s over. I’ve found something better.”

“No… that can’t be…” you said, but when you saw the coldness in his eyes, something inside you shattered.

Silco didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on you, and for a moment, everything felt like a lie. Then, with a cruel indifference, he said, “You were never my equal. You were just a pastime, something I could have for myself. Something no one else could have. But you're replaceable. We all are.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, struggling against the knot in your throat. “How can you say that?”

“I’m getting tired of repeating myself. I don’t want you in my life anymore. You’re no longer useful to me, you only bring me problems,” his voice was now firm, unyielding. “So go. I don’t need any more weaknesses in my life.”

The words were like a sentence. Everything you had ever felt for him, everything you had believed you shared, crumbled in that moment. There was nothing left. With your heart shattered, you took a deep breath and, without another word, turned away.

As you walked toward the door, the echo of your footsteps filled the empty office. Silco watched you, but did nothing to stop you. There was nothing left to say.

When the door closed behind you, silence filled the room. Silco stood there, in the darkness, his fists clenched, the pain in his chest stronger than any wound he had ever suffered before. For the first time in years, a single tear ran down his face. But no one saw it. He was alone, and that was all he deserved.

Mel

Mel's bedroom was silent, illuminated only by the faint light of the early morning hours. The bed, still messy, bore witness to a night of passion, but also to something much deeper that had been growing between the two of you. The sheets, tangled together, seemed to reflect the tension that now filled the space. The room, which had once been a warm refuge, was now soaked in a thick, suffocating atmosphere.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching how Mel lay with her back to you, her face hidden in the pillow, breathing irregularly, as if she were still searching for something she couldn’t find. It wasn’t physical exhaustion that was affecting her, but something much deeper.

"Mel..." you said, your voice low but filled with an anguish you couldn’t control. “What’s happening between us?”

She didn’t move at first, as if she hadn’t heard you, but the weight of your words finally reached her. She turned over, and when her eyes met yours, something in her gaze made you fear the worst. It wasn’t the look of the woman you loved. It was something much more distant, something you couldn’t understand.

"I'm sorry... I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice, though soft, tinged with a hardness you couldn’t ignore. "I can't keep dragging you into this."

"What do you mean?" you asked, unable to comprehend what she had just said. "I won’t let you push me away. I won’t allow it."

Mel sighed and sat up, her eyes reflecting an exhaustion that seemed to surpass the physical. "It’s not about that... I don’t want to keep exposing you to all of this," she said, pressing her lips together with a determination that hurt. "I’m putting you in danger. It’s not fair to you."

"I don’t care," you replied, moving closer to her, your words heavy with desperation. "I don’t care what happens. All I want is to be with you."

But Mel didn’t give in, and instead of softening, her expression hardened even more. "You don’t understand, do you? I... I’m not enough for you. I can’t be what you need. I can’t keep being this, being... who I am."

"And what are you, Mel?" you asked, pain clear in your voice. "Ambessa’s daughter? The woman who lives under her shadow, trying to be someone she’ll never be? You’re not just that. You’re not. You’re... you’re the woman I want, the woman I love. But you keep running from it."

Mel, hearing your words, took a step back, as if an invisible force had pushed her away. The look in her eyes was painful, as if your words had struck her to the core. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to be Ambessa’s daughter," she said, her voice cracked with frustration. "You don’t know what it’s like to do everything for her, for her approval."

"No I don't," you replied, unable to hold back the heat of your own truth. "But what I know is what it’s like to try to be what others want. To try to please someone who’ll never see you for what you truly are. And still, you stay there, looking for something you can’t even define."

Mel fell silent, her face paling with each of your words, but you wouldn’t stop. Not after everything you’d tried. "I’m telling you, I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you have to live under her shadow forever. I just want to be with you. But you... you can’t see that you’re losing what matters most. What you have left. What we could be."

"It’s just that I can’t... I can’t give it all up for you," she whispered, her gaze lost, almost disoriented. "I’m not enough for you. I can’t be."

"Why do you keep saying that?" you said, your voice breaking. "Why do you keep seeking her approval? You don’t have to be her perfect daughter, Mel. You have to be you. But you keep seeking her love, and you’ll never find it. It will never be enough for her. And as long as you stay there, you keep losing yourself."

She closed her eyes, as if your words pierced her, but she didn’t say anything more. The silence between you two became unbearable, and finally, Mel looked down, tears welling up in her eyes. "I’m telling you, I can’t keep going with you," she murmured, and this time it wasn’t a doubt, it was a statement.

You stayed there, frozen, unable to move a muscle. "What?" you whispered, unable to believe what she had just said.

"What I’m saying is that... I can’t keep being what you need. I can’t be happy like this. I can’t keep fighting for something I don’t have."

You couldn’t believe it, the words slipped from your mouth, but they didn’t find the right form to come out. "But, Mel, you don’t have to be what they want. You don’t have to live under her shadow. Why don’t you see it? I don’t want you for what you are to others, I want you for what you are to me."

Mel looked at you then, and for a moment, you thought everything could be resolved. But the look in her eyes wasn’t the same anymore. It was empty, sad, as if she had given up everything she once was. "I can’t stay here, I can’t keep doing this," she murmured, and with those words, she turned away, walking away from you.

Your heart shattered, but it wasn’t the pain that stopped you. It was the anguish of knowing that, despite everything you shared, she would never be able to leave that shadow, that need to please her mother.

And as she walked away, the words echoed in your mind over and over again: "I’ll never be enough. I’m not enough for her. I’m not enough for you."

Sevika

You find yourself with Sevika in her usual spot, where the world seems to stand still, surrounded by ruins and rubble. The atmosphere is thick with silence, but there's something in her eyes you can't ignore. There's tension in the air, as if a conflict is about to erupt.

"Sevika," you call, your heart racing. "We need to talk."

She turns toward you slowly, and her eyes seem colder than you've ever seen them. "I know," she replies, her voice deep and cutting. "I've been waiting for you."

You approach, but Sevika's gaze feels so distant, so detached from you. Something is wrong, and you know it. You can't stop the doubts from forming in your mind.

"Why have you been pulling away from me?" you ask, the knot in your throat growing tighter. "What's happening between us?"

Sevika crosses her arms, her posture more defiant than ever. "Don't you know? I told you, remember? I'm no good for you. I'm not what you need."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What are you talking about? I've never asked you to be anything else. I accept you as you are. I love you, Sevika."

She takes a step back, distancing herself from you, as if your closeness burns her. "That's what you don't understand. You think this is love, but what you're seeing isn't it. What you see in me is just an illusion. I'm just using you to get what I need: a little comfort, a distraction from the damn chaos of this city. But I don't want you to keep deceiving yourself. I'm not someone you can save, and I don't want you wasting your time with me."

Your words catch in your throat. "No... don't say that. I'm not deceiving myself, Sevika. I want to be by your side, through thick and thin. Why are you saying all of this?"

Sevika laughs, but it's not a laugh that gives you peace. It's cold, bitter, as if she's laughing at a cruel joke. "Because you're weak. And I don't want to drag you into this shitty world anymore. I don't want you to be another victim of what I am. And the worst part is, you don't even get it. You're a dreamer, an idealist, but there's no room for that here. There's no room for love in Zaun, there's only pain. And you won't be able to handle it."

"I don't want to leave you. I can't leave you," you respond, moving closer, but Sevika takes another step back, her face hardened by an internal battle. "I can't live with the thought of you pushing me away."

"Well, that's what's going to happen," she says, her voice so cold it echoes through the emptiness of the factory. "I'm leaving you because I can never be what you expect. I'll drag you into the darkness, I'll sink you even deeper than you already are. And that, that would ruin you. I have nothing left to offer you."

You're frozen, the pain piercing through your chest. "No... don't do this, Sevika. Please. Don't leave me alone."

"I left you the moment I accepted this damn world," Sevika says, and you can see a single tear silently roll down her face. "The only thing I offer you is more suffering, and that's the last thing I want for you. Forget me. And go, before I end up destroying you."

"No! I won't leave you!" you shout, but the desperation in your voice is futile. Sevika looks at you, but there's no warmth in her eyes anymore, only emptiness. "You're going to be happy without me. I'm not the person you need."

Before you can say anything else, Sevika turns around, walking toward the exit of the factory, leaving you alone in that dark, cold corner. The last image of her, her figure fading into the darkness, breaks you completely. You know that what she just told you isn't a lie, and that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

But what destroys you more is that you love her so much, and you can't bear the thought of losing her forever.

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, Sukuna fks reader with both his cocks in both holes ahem, (yayyy) lots of use of all his tongues and mouths OF COURSE, public sex, cockwarming, Sukuna calls you little bunny and slutty etc, soft Sukuna, he's falling in LOVE but is stubborn lol true form Sukuna, smacking (pussy, titties, ass, face- all of it lmao) THIS CHAP IS ALMOST ALL SMUT and fluff w/a little angst at the beginning

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, Four Parts (this is the final one) you're not gonna get much plot, I really wanted them being cute!? don't ask.- also I suck at writing powers, so sorry if I fk anything up that's canon lol! - WC this chap- 7.9k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated if you like this silly stuff, ty for all the love on these little parts they make me so happy❤️

<<<part three

Part Four- Final Part

Two weeks later

Why have you fallen in love with such an ass?

You had asked this question to yourself many times, finally Sukuna was back home, but you refused to go see him, hiding in your room instead. Sukuna had summoned you to dine with him, but you simply locked yourself in, fiddling with the brilliant necklace, the only thing he’d left aside from his infuriating note, watching how the candlelights reflect the facets of the gems.

Knock knock knock.

“I’m not coming, Uraume.” You say, knowing their knock now.

“The King is demanding you come, you must obey.”

“Then he can drag me out.” You hear their footsteps softly padding along the corridors, echoing in the halls.

You wanted to see him, you were dying to see him, but you were far, far too angry, too hurt right now to face him. The past couple of weeks of loneliness, of curling up in his throne and inhaling the scent he left, of being just pathetic over him, over everything he had said. He acted as if he could make you not love him, but that was completely impossible.

You fell for him, for the King of curses, who you have been promised to, the one that your powers are the antithesis of. The being so intimidating to all, but you knew what it was to have his arms around you, what it was to sit on his lap in the throne room like his Queen, which you were. You know what it was to be kissed so thoroughly, the little intimate moments he tries to brush off.

You’re in love with him, and you can’t face him.

Suddenly your door is being banged on, you tense just a bit, jumping now, breath coming in small pants when you hear his booming voice. “I’ll blast this door off the fucking hinges if you don’t come out, wife.”

You huff, scowling as your slippered feet gently pad across the cold marble floor below you, hand shaking as you touch the brass knob, you’re terrified you’ll fold once you face him. You have no willpower, he could just look at you and you’ll open for him, so pathetically, but you’re so angry with him too, you’re conflicted as you pause, knowing he’s right on the side of the door.

“I don’t want to see you.” You choke out then, hiding a sob and failing, Sukuna smacks the door again, making it vibrate.

“Open now, brat. I swear I’ll destroy your entire wing right now.”

“Why? You don’t even like me.”

“Psh, you insolent-”

“Go away, your Majesty.” You can practically hear him seething, feeling his energy so strongly then.

“You open this door now and eat. I command you as your fucking King and husband.”

“Ugh! Fine.” You open the door then, tears glimmering unshed in your eyes, Sukuna sees it then, the hurt on your face, the face he couldn’t get out of his head for weeks. Eyes that haunted him as much as they annoy the shit out of him.

“Do not dare cry.” He orders, you stand straight up then, fists clenched at your sides.

“Your audacity knows no bounds, you cannot constantly command me not to do things, to feel things. If it is so terrible just leave me be, you’ve more than had your chances to make an heir I’m sure. We’ll see if it takes.” Sukuna slams the door open when you try to shut it, walking in now, step by step.

“When were your monthlies?” He asks, you blink then, shaking your head as you try to think.

“I am due this week, so we will know soon if you must lay with me again.”

All four of his ruby eyes glare now. “If I must!?”

“Indeed. I’ll inform you, now… if you please-”

“Fuck that.” Sukuna shuts your door, turning and pressing you against it now, intimidating as his arms bar you, two on either side of your head, two cupping your face. “As if you don’t desire me.”

“I do, but I will not be hurt and dismissed like I’m some stupid child.”

“You basically are to me.”

“Then go. Concubines must miss you- ah!” Sukuna’s slammed his lips on yours now, melting you completely, you’re clinging to him so desperate as he lifts you like you are nothing, you’re just fucking dangling as he holds you so high, lips already swelling from his kisses.

“I am here, I want you, got it brat?” Sukuna speaks through his teeth, two hands gripping your ass rough over your robes. “I need you.”

“Need me?” Your brain short circuits, he’s kissing you desperate, it is needy how he’s all over you, you’re trembling, thighs shaking around his thick waist, tasting the sweet wine on his tongue as it devours your mouth.

“Need to be inside you, fuck I’ve missed it.” You gasp as he parts your robes with two hands while the other two press you against the door, his tongue on his bare abdomen lapping at your bare pussy, you’re whimpering at it, clit throbbing. “Missed your taste, gods.”

“Kuna… you’re…” His thick, long tongue is lapping at you, his lips back on yours again, you’re clinging to his bare shoulders, long nails are pressing against his skin, you’re shaking when he’s lapping at you, over and over, eyes rolling back.

“Need my cocks inside you, bunny. Waited too long.” He huffs, carrying you to the bed now, undoing his robes, you stop him, shaking your head and closing your thighs, earning his glare. “Excuse me, brat?” He shoves them open, only for you to close them once more, glaring right back.

“You left me with a stupid note and some necklace, as if that’ll make anything better! Don’t, I can’t think straight when you touch me.” You whimper those words, he’s cupping your face, red eyes dilated, lips hungry as he lays naked over you.

“I’ll buy you more things, anything, have you dripping with every gem in the fucking country, hmm?”

“No, Kuna. No. You didn’t have to love me back, but to leave me like that? To write your stupid note!? No!” You shove at him, tears falling from your eyes, your body and soul ache for him, but your heart is hurting, as you look at his face in the night, the lights casting shadows on all the hard planes of his face.

“You are stupid to think you do, have you not come to your goddamn senses? Why can’t you just enjoy it… enjoy this.” He’s slathering kisses down your ribcage, your tummy, nipping at your flesh with sharp teeth, his long black nails pressing into your skin, making you soaking wet with every stroke of his hand, of his tongues darting out from all his damn hands.

“If you’re… so… mmm… horny then go… to them- ah!” Sukuna slaps your cheek then, you slap him right back, then you’re devouring each other again, it’s insanity, you’re biting the King of Curses lip so hard you draw blood.

“I don’t want anyone but you, annoying pest.” He grips your chin then, kissing you with the blood all over his mouth, you whine into his lips now, hips arching.

“Why?” You whisper, he sighs, shaking his head. “Why? If you do not answer you will not lay with me.”

“You’re commanding me!?” He leans up on his arms, looming over you, and you’re nodding, watching his ruby eyes narrow. “I cannot explain why I only want a stupid bunny like you, but I do.”

“Is it because you care? At all?” He leans off you then, groaning and running a big hand through his pastel hair.

“I cannot fathom how I’ve come to have such an annoying, insolent girl. Perhaps I should lay with them, if you say so.”

“Go then!” You stand, shoving at the big luk of a damn man, he’s like steel under your palms, his jaw set.

“You want me to?”

“No!” You’re sobbing then, and he’s shaking his head, studying you, hating that you drive him to insanity, hating that all he wants is this brat who smacks him, who bites at him, how can he handle this? You’re making him so fucking crazy, he just wants you screaming in pleasure, not this. “But you should, if you don’t care.”

“I do care, foolish brat.” You shake your head even as he cups your face once more, thumbs brushing under your jaw line, feeling your fluttering pulse point. “Fragile little human, I’ve let you go on too much.”

“You keep trying to scare me away, it won’t work, all you’re doing is hurting me instead, hurting us.” You let him wrap his enormous fingers around your throat, he does it gently, hand shaking, losing his composure.

“What can I do to make you smile again?” He whispers, releasing your throat, thumb brushing your lower lip.

“Let me express myself without doubting me, without making fun of me for it. I know my own heart, you cannot tell me what to feel.” He curses then, looking up at the ceiling, despising the way he wants to make you happy, please you.

You’ve become everything he can think of and he despises that too.

“Must you say the nonsense?” He murmurs, and you smile just a bit, stepping closer, how insane are you, to have the King of Curses hand around your throat and not even flinch? No, you smile instead.

“I won’t constantly say it, but you needed to know how I felt. What if I never saw you again?” The guilt eats at him now, picturing you, the staff has said you’ve barely left the room, that you’ve barely eaten, he even sees your cheeks more hollow, your waist smaller under his touch, infuriating him further.

“I hear you’re refusing food, how are you to make an heir if you waste away?” He says terself, grabbing you tightly now by the waist.

“I was depressed, I cannot eat when I’m depressed.” You whisper.

“So you’ll eat now, even if I have to force food down your throat, got it?” Come to dinner with me.”

“What, you’ll feed me like some baby?”

“You are a dumb little baby. Now.” You stomp after him, tying your robes as he does, you sit far away from him, across the giant table, further infuriating him as you chew your meal.

“Happy, King?” You ask, sipping your water now, Sukuna scoffs, standing up and walking to you.

“Am I happy that my bride is the most petulant brat? No.” You smack at his hands when he starts trying to shove fork fulls in your mouth. “Stop it this instant.”

“I don’t need you to feed me, I need you… I need…” You shake your head, standing and turning, earning him yanking your back against his chest, two arms wrapping you now. “S-stop…”

“You’re aching for me, bet your cunt is soaked. Why fight this, you stubborn girl?” You gasp in pleasure as he cups you between your thighs, feeling your heat against his fingers. “You know you want me inside your slutty cunt.”

“I want you to not be an ass. Ngh!” Sukuna has you bent over the table now, one hand pinning your wrists as the other lifts your robes, your thighs tremble when he sinks two long fingers, curling them just so, you’re weakly whining out and dripping down his hand and wrist, head pressing against the tablecloth. “Mmm…”

“You want me to fill you, don’t you?”

“W-want you… not so fucking… mean.”

He laughs, leaning over you now, but his eyes catch yours, and something takes his breath away, making him gulp now. “Fine, say your stupid sentence if it makes you stop those tears. I only want you moaning.”

“You won’t g-get mad again?” You whisper, he shakes his head, continuing to move his fingers up and down inside your slick little hole, aching for his huge cocks so badly you can’t think.

“Just get it over with, bunny.”

“Love you.” He moans now, kissing you deeply, your words hit him so hard his usually steady hands tremble, he hates those stupid words, from your perfect lips, but he hates you sad much more. You exhale, sniffling, when he stands, turning you and picking you up, holding you tightly.

“Annoying.” Is all he manages, gulping then, you sigh, clinging around his neck now, kissing him softer, so soft he feels too much. “I need to be inside you, do not make your King beg.”

“Would it be so bad, you begging for once?” You whisper, he exhales, sitting you on the table, between your spread thighs, two hands shoving them apart while two fondle your breasts over your robes.

“You think I’ll beg? I’m a King.” You hum softly, trailing your hands down his hard body, finding one of his cocks under his robe, stroking then, catching his eyes as you feel his hard length, you watch his lip part, lashes lowering.

“Maybe you will beg for me. Beg to be inside me again?” You bring his tip against your soppy cunt, he grips you tightly, but you shove him back, smiling.

“You’ll not tease me.” He pulls you against him, but you shake your head, back to stroking him instead, he moans out, resting his head against yours. “You want me just as bad as I do, stop pretending.”

“You alright, Kuna?” You whisper now, teasing your clit with one of his leaky tips, he tries to pull you again but your free hand stops him. “What do we say when we want something?”

“I am so not fucking begging.”

“Hmm. Good night then.��� You let go of him, hopping off the table, he scoffs, yanking you by your wrist now, yanking you back, leaning over you, he is intimidating.

“Your pretty pussy is aching, isn’t it?”

“Pretty?” You whisper.

“All of you is. Pretty and irritating.” He kisses you deeper, you feel it then, how much of himself he’s putting to you, and you want to cave so badly.

“Then why don’t you beg to come to my bed?” 

“Tch, no… you beg for me to fill you.” You’re whining out as his tongue slips against your clit again, your eyes roll back. “So stubborn, clit is twitching, pussy is drooling.”

“Sh-shut up.” Sukuna smirks though, carrying you up the stairs now, so quickly he has you there before you can blink, you get dizzy when he’s got you back laid on his bed, moaning when he parts your robes and gazes.

“This is where you belong, in my bed naked, constantly.” He huffs, watching as your hair splays out, your purple robes under you, you look so fucking pretty he can’t stand you, how bad his cocks hurt, the precum oozing out of his tips, decorating your inner thighs with white droplets,be spreads them across your skin.

“You need to apologize.”

“What!? Absolutely not.”

“Then we will just lay here.” Sukuna is infuriated now, shoving up off the bed to stare at you, as if you've grown four arms yourself.

“What do you want from me, woman?”

“To apologize for being a dick, leaving without saying goodbye.” He sighs and clenches his teeth.

“Cease that eye watering nonsense. Will you smile if I say it then?” You nod. “Fine, I'm sorry that I did not say farewell, and for… for finding your words foolish.” You stroke his face then, thumbs brushing over the sharp jut of a cheekbone.

“Thank you, Kuna. I missed you.” You whisper softly, you feel the warmth spread through your body, find yourself falling deeper and deeper.

“Your body missed me too, didn't it?”

“Did yours?” Your hand goes to his bare chest, where his heart thuds faster under your touch. He gulps, nodding just a bit, an imperceptible movement that anyone else might miss, but it emboldens you then. “Then lay on your back, my King.”

“Me on my back?” You can tell then, he hasn't done it, let someone have control. You stroke down his chest, his abdomen, trailing his tattoos.

“I'll make you feel very good, husband.” He does as you command, laying on his back, two hands behind his head as the other two find purchase in your hair while you're kissing down his throat, his chest, tasting the salt of his sweat when your tongue darts across a flat nipple.

“You’re an annoying pest.” He grumbles, you smile against him as your lips trail even lower, kissing along the black lines that slide across him, while your fingers set to tug and expose his cocks fully, earning his groan. “Stop teasing me.”

“Why can’t I? You certainly do enough, hmm?” You’re kissing the tips of him now, tongue flicking across the little slits that keep pumping white, inhaling his musky scent as you go.

“M’gonna shove them both in your insolent mouth at once.” He grumbles, but he doesn’t, he watches you with four dilated eyes, the lower ones so lidded they’re just slits that are glimmering in the soft candlelight of his room, which casts shadows across the wall so lewd, your head bobbing on one of his cocks now. “F-fuck…”

You enjoy sucking him, you’ve had much practice in a short time, enjoy the way his lips part, the way his muscles tense, how his hips buck up and jerk. You brace yourself with one hand on the bed, the other stroking his lower cock, his huge, muscled frame trembling under your caresses, his moans urging you.

“Take it deeper, brat, hmm? Can you?” He’s taunting you, but his voice is breathy, you feel him losing his control when his hands yank on your hair, and you take his cock deep in your throat, swallowing and moaning around it, making it vibrate. “Fuck! Need to be inside you, now.”

You pull back, cheeks hollowing, lips smacking and leaving trails of saliva like little glittery strings when you kitten lick his tip again. “Not yet, Kuna-ah!”

Sukuna uses his lower arms to drag you up now, holding you damn near suspended in the fucking air, you’re panicking as he’s chuckling. “Oh you little brat, you really think I can’t do anything I want to you?”

“Put me d-down this instant!” He’s chuckling at you, ass of a man, before he starts dragging your hips to slide across his cocks, between your soppy slit, you’re coating every inch of him, tears falling at how good it feels.

“You’re gonna get filled all night, bunny.” He slams you down on one of his cocks then, you’re screaming at the stretch, cunt throbbing around him, he hisses. “Loosen up, now.”

“C-can’t, m’gonna…” You’re getting eased off his cock again, then yanked back on the other, as his tongue from his stomach slathers your clit, you’re nearly sent over the edge, head falling back, hair falling like a curtain down it. “Ngh!”

“Wanna fill both your slutty holes.” He huffs, one of his tips pressing against your little puckered hole now, he chuckles at your expression. “Not yet, you’re too much of a frightened little prey.”

“M’not, ah- close, close… please…” You whine now, he’s just teasing you with his tips again, one slipping in your other hole, it feels so good you can’t take it, especially when his tongue is lapping at you again, two hands squishing your breasts.

“That’s it, cum all over me, now bunny.” He huffs, looking at you as you fall apart over him, you’re shattering while your cum is pouring all over, making a slick mess, body twitching when he sinks you back fully on one again. “There she goes, she loves being filled by her king, huh?”

“Yes, yes!” You’re over pretending to have control, just clinging to him as he fucks up into you, faster and harder, thrusts jostling you so much your damn teeth click, your pussy is pulsating all around him, your arousal pooling at the base of one cock, while he pummels into you.

“Perfect pussy, s’mine, hmm? Made f’me, made to take me.” You’re whimpering your answer, pathetically, and Sukuna’s thrusts falter, he leans up, kissing your lips, making you fall even deeper, as you struggle to stay on this plane of existence whatsoever, it’s like you’re floating and falling into the abyss that’s him.

“Mhm.” You manage, but it’s enough to urge him, to make his cock pulse for you, leaking against your cervix.

 “Gonna take this seed, fill your womb with my heir.”

“Please, please Kuna. Want it, w-want it.” He moans then, sloppy kisses between you both, as your cunt milks his cock for every spurt of cum that starts shooting up inside you.

“Feel m-me?” He’s exhaling, his voice a whisper, he can barely handle how good your cunt feels around him, how she’s gripping him, your eyes roll back in your skull, your mouth open, breasts arched against him when he stuffs you so full. He feels your cervix as he keeps pumping more and more cum. “Asked you a question, brat.”

His gentle smack on your face only makes you cum harder, he groans then, smacking your ass, your tits, little gentle thwacks that prolong you, while his cock stays buried. You’re a trembling goddamn mess, blinking blackness out of your vision as you struggle to focus on your King, sprawled under you, his eyes locked on every movement of your body and face.

“Kuna…” You whisper, blinking rapidly then, he eases out of you, moaning when he watches the mess pouring out of your hole.

“You’re wasting it again, tch.” You barely register how you are on your back, Sukuna’s long fingers stuffing the cum trickling all over into your sore cunt.

“Too much, mmh!” He laughs then, booming laughter that fills his chambers, easing his fingers out and shoving your thighs up, folding you in half. “Wh-what are you doing, I’m sore… ass of a man- ah!”

Sukuna’s thwap on your cunt stings, as he glares down at you. “I’ve had enough of your mouth running, you missed me filling you, didn’t you? Answer.”

“Y-yes.” You’re shaking when his face is between your thighs, despite all of his tongues, the one on his face was the sexiest when it laps you up, something about your little hands in his hair, his broad shoulders spreading you wide, just did more to you. Like he was worshipping you. “I’m sorry I was so… mad at you… my feelings…”

“Your feelings this and that, tch, you’re so needy aren’t you?” You scowl right back, but his tongue is swiping up your slit now, before he leans up, and your mouth eagerly opens, you swallow both of your tastes, earning his satisfied smirk. “Since you’re so needy, I’ll clean you, get you ready for more, yes?”

“Please, my King.” He is between your thighs again, lapping you up, shoving his tongue inside every bit of you, your cunt is pushing out all of his white ropes, which he greedily drinks. “Kuna!”

“Stupid name.” He huffs, tongue flicking your sensitive clit, he spreads your puffy lips wide, watching the little thing twitch with an amused smirk. “We taste so fucking perfect together, you know that?”

“We do… ah! Sensitive!” He’s grinning, sharp teeth against you as he exposes your clit, flicking his tongue over and over, while two of hands grip your hips, dragging you on his mouth. Your hips try to back off but he doesn’t let them, until you’re cumming all over his face again, which he has buried against you, orgasm wrecking your mind and any resolve you ever had.

“How many loads can you take in this tummy, hmm?” He looks up, face coated in your arousal, one hand pressing on your tummy now.

“As many as you want to give me.” Your words destroy him, to hear them from you? It’s like the dreams he’s been cursed with for weeks.

“Good bunny.” You eat it up, the praise, the way he looks at you when he is back to fucking your now sore pussy, his other cock stroking your clit, making you feel so much, too much, wh. “Good, good bunny. Take it all, greedy f’me aren’t you?”

You do, you take all of him somehow, you can’t figure it out, how she stretches to accommodate his length, his thickness, but she does. Your body is begging for more, your eyes glazed with pleasure, as his cock slams into your womb, filling you so deep you swear he’s fucking up your insides, and your cunt keeps greedily milking him, taking everything he’s got.

Sukuna flips you so suddenly you’re breathless again, climbing on top of you, two slick fingers slipping in your little untouched hole again, while he fucks you with one cock, his other arms wrapping your waist. His breath is against your ear while you’re crying out at the stretch, still pushing out remnants of his cum from earlier, dripping with your cum down his red blankets.

“Ready for me to cum in both your holes?” He murmurs, one hand cupping your face, turning you towards him you nod weakly, craving him, he moans into your mouth, tongues sloppy as they play, and he slips his other cock into that hole now.

“Kuna, too much… too big…” You’re crying out when he enters you, both cocks now, just their tips then a little further.

“Relax, bunny. You’re all mine, aren’t you?” You nod weakly, and it starts feeling so good, when he puts you on your knees, your ass arches for him, which he’s gripping brutally, spreading you wider. “Look at you, both your slutty holes begging for me.”

You can’t speak anymore, already weak from the orgasms, now he’s never even softened you don’t think, his cocks full of blood, when he sinks them further, you’re gripping the blankets, head buried, muffling your cries. He’s fucking both of your holes steadily, not going fully in, he’s maybe a few inches, but it’s so good, you’re so full of Sukuna.

“Feel me everywhere, you’re mine, all of you.” One of his hands entangles in your hair, messy already, as he feels both of your holes clenching him, your cunt is soaking wet, your ass so tight it’s strangling his cock, all while his balls are smacking your clit. “Hear it?”

“Y-yes…” You do hear it, the smacking of skin, the wetness of your cunt, making your ass arching up for more.

“Perfect f’me, fuck I missed you.” You tremble under him now, trying to turn your weak neck to look up at him, and he’s bending over you, big body taking you completely over, sinking deeper and deeper. “Yes, brat, I d-did.”

“Love you, Kuna.” You whisper, instead of yelling at you, he moans, kissing your mouth, a hand choking your throat, taking your oxygen while he takes you over, cocks moving easier and easier.

“Cum all over me, lemme feel it, you can do it hmm, my Queen?” At those words you’re ended, to hear how he professes them, you begin climaxing, ass clenching one cock while your pussy drools over his other, he has to pause, you feel so fucking good all around him.

“Kuna!” Your stupid nickname ruins him, as does how tight you’re gripping him, when he sees your pretty face all fucked out.

“Ready for me to fill you so full you can’t walk or run that mouth?” He huffs, you nod eagerly, and he’s pouring his seed in both your holes, the sensations just prolonging your orgasm. Sukuna’s grip tightens as he cums so hard, his teeth sinking into your shoulder, leaving a bruise, you love it, love the sting, love the way he marks you, the way he feels.

The two of you stay like that for a moment, his cocks still buried deep, your pussy and ass spasming around them, catching your breath now, as is your King. His eyes are closed, his breathing ragged, but his grip on you doesn’t loosen, not one bit, keeping you pinned, keeping you full.

“You’re mine, stupid little bunny.” He whispers, his voice hoarse, his teeth sinking into the back of your shoulder now.

“Yours.” You whisper back, your voice trembling with satisfaction, your heart fluttering at the possessiveness in his tone.

He pulls out slowly, a gush of cum following him, painting your thighs, your holes, all over until it’s a dripping mess, the wet spot under you growing, mixing with your sweat soaked bodies. He turns you, cupping your face and hovering over you, watching your breasts rise and fall, spreading your thighs and smirking at all the cum oozing from your holes.

“You called me… your Queen.” You whisper, and he rolls his eyes.

“Tch, that is what you are? Foolish brat.”

“I enjoyed that.” He smirks now, leaning down to hover over you, studying a face that’s become far too important too fast.

“Did you now?”

“I did. Thank you for… not telling me to stop saying it.” You manage, emotions in your throat, you don’t expect him to ever say it back, and that hurts, but you feel so connected then, in the quiet night under him.

“It’s foolish but I tire of your frown, that upsets me. With annoyance.” He covers up the truth, that your sad face breaks him.

You smile almost knowingly, as if you can read him so well. “My King, may I start the training finally, tomorrow?”

“You’re still set on that, huh?” You nod. “Fine, I’ll do whatever you wish, as long as you…”

“Smile?”

“That.” You do so then, brightening your face, making his stomach flip, he hates that you control him this way, still wondering just what powers or spells you’ve put on him. “Better.”

Soon you’re snuggled up to him after being cleaned up, bare against his naked frame under the heavy covers, Sukuna loves even your little cold hands and cold feet, but he sure wouldn’t be letting you know. “Warm them up, now you pest.”

“We’ve been through this, I need you to do that.” He scoffs, pulling you against his chest, one hand brushing your hair back soothingly, as you yawn. “I missed this, you holding me.”

“Shut it, brat.” You smile as you nuzzle him, and soon you fall asleep, while Sukuna stares up at the ceiling, the one painted with ancient wars, wars he’s participated in, and he doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to live without you.

How annoying you are.

*****

“Sore, bunny?” Sukuna teases the next day, as you begin training, you glare at him now. “What?”

“You know I am.” You hiss, considering he’d fucked you twice last night, you’re sore in places also you can’t even explain, in ways that make your cheeks heat up while you walk.

“Weak little human.” He taunts, you hold your hands up then, focusing as he’s been showing you for hours. “Gonna do something, bunny?”

You glare when he taunts you, and then gasp as he begins to cleave several trees in half. “Holy…”

“This is why we needed to be outside.” He’s smirking sadistically, so very proud of his powers, you roll your eyes. “Try to stop me, bunny, close your eyes, don’t get distracted.”

You concentrate, feeling your own energy fill you, shutting your eyes, and positioning your hands just so, until you hear a grunt. You open them, realizing you’ve completely locked Sukuna’s arm up, he’s grinning though, nodding at you, and you use the energy to slam him into the ground.

“Fuck…” He’s huffing, you gasp now, running to him, letting your energy fall, only for him to drag you on him, laughing. “You are a witch.”

“A witch?”

“Yes, a witch. Dropping me to my fucking knees, making me stupid for you, haunting my dreams.”

“Your dreams?” You whisper, hair falling to the side, brushing his broad shoulders over his bare chest as he holds you on him, his head on the grass below. Trees are decaying, grass is withering, all from him, but you think it’s beautiful, the destruction he’s brought.

“All of you, endlessly irritating.” You smile then, realizing he cares just as much as you do, though he surely wouldn’t say that.

In his own way, this was it.

“Maybe I am bewitching you, one day you’ll fall in love with me.” He snorts, rolling all four eyes, shocking you when he has you flipped on your back, breathless.

“You wish, brat. Keep dreaming.”

*****

“Sukuna, you cannot leave me again. Please.” You’re pleading two weeks later, as he tells you he must leave for a few days again. “Take me with you, or send your damn armies.”

“A King must stand with them, you have me be a stupid bunny like you?”

“Stupid bunny!?” You use your energy then, crashing everything off the giant table with a clatter, earning his grin.

“You’re sexy when you’re using your flimsy little fucking powers.”

“Oh fuck you!” You stomp off then, but he’s got you in his arms before you can leave, holding you tightly. “Stop it. I’m angry.”

“You’re always angry, bunny really thinks she’s not just prey.” You shove at him now, knocking him back, only making him grin wider.

“Take me with you, please. I can help.” You see it then, the emotions in his gaze, he shakes his head at you. “You think I'm incapable?”

“Not at all, fuck you’re more capable than most of the dumb boys that fight for me.”

“Then why not?”

“Because I need you safe.” His roaring voice echoes in the dining hall now, he cups your face with rough hands. “I have to make sure you’re here, where I know no one can touch you.”

“I don’t want to be without you.” You feel tears streaming down your cheeks now, he swipes at them, the gnawing in his heart and soul growing with every moment he spends with you, with every look you give him. He can’t take it, all that he feels for you, building and building. “I feel sick.”

You rush out then, and he sighs, watching your retreating form when Uraume walks up. “Could you check on her? She’s angry again, little brat.”

Uraume nods, smiling just a bit, and soon finds you, throwing up. They blink in concern, coming up to you then, holding your hair, as you whimper miserably. “Has something upset your stomach, my Queen?”

“I didn’t even eat or drink, he’s got me s-so angry, Uraume. He doesn’t think I can help…” You’re sick again, and Sukuna is standing by your door, watching in concern as Uraume rubs your back.

“Something is wrong, when was your last monthly?” You blink then, rapidly, leaning on your knees, eyes catching Sukuna’s at the door.

“I haven’t had one since I’ve been here.” You touch your tummy then, smiling, and you see it, not a smirk or sadistic grin, it’s a beautiful smile from Ryomen Sukuna. “I am with child?”

“I’ll have the royal doctor examine you tomorrow. My King, perhaps we can put off the journey for a few days?” They ask, as they’re helping you clean up, you’re cleaning your teeth, even the water you drink after making your tummy hurt.

“For a few days then. Leave us for a moment, please.” Soon Sukuna picks you up carefully, in his arms, cradling you to his chest. Your arms wrap his neck, as you caress his face, so much unspoken between you both, you just study each other, breathless. “You’re carrying my heir?”

“I hope so, Kuna.” You admit, while he sits on the bed, still holding you across his massive lap with two arms, the others, brushing back your hair. “I want to have many heirs for you, I promise I will be a good mother, and a good queen.”

“I already know that, foolish girl. God help me if they’re stubborn like you.” Your eyes narrow, earning his laughter.

“I hope it will be a son for you.”

Sukuna hopes it’s a girl, one just like you, but he doesn’t say that, he shouldn’t say that, he’s a King after all, he needs male heirs. But as one hand rests on your still flat tummy, he pictures it, many children with you, emotions making his heart race faster and faster.

“You cannot come if you are, you know this, don’t be so stubborn.” You sigh, looking up at him.

“I know that. I can’t risk something happening.”

“Finally you see reason, pregnancy becomes you. Don’t glare at me, brat, come on now.” He pulls you against him you rest your head on his chest, nausea easing then as his energy consumes you both, surrounding you. “This baby, with both of our powers, will be a menace.”

“He will be sweet like me, thank you.” Sukuna smirks.

“We’ll see.”

*****

After confirming you were indeed pregnant, Sukuna put his journey off a few days, and he surprises you even when he’s gone, he has an entire nursery made by his servants, it makes no sense to this early but he’s so sure about it. All of his concubines also have disappeared, you’re not really sure where they went, and the servants pamper you.

But you miss him. When he does return weeks later, you’re curled up in his throne asleep, breaking his heart, he’s covered in grime and sweat from his trek, you look so fragile and tiny to him. He’s been consumed again by dreams of you, of fears of something happening to you, to the baby, so to see you so peaceful allows him to breathe for just a moment.

Sukuna gets down on one knee, kneeling for his sleeping queen, so beautiful in front of him, caressing your face carefully, brushing your hair off it where it’s fallen. You snuggle against his big hand, brows together, he notices your hand is on your tummy over your robes, he places his other hand there as you’re mumbling then.

“Kuna… miss you… love you…” You’re babbling, head shifting, your brows knitting together, and he exhales, leaning close, the words that have been stirring since he met you ready to spill.

“I love you, bunny. Infuriating, annoying, silly, stubborn brat.” His whisper is so quiet, and you’re still asleep, he exhales in relief that you don’t hear him yet, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so foolish.”

You come to then, seeing him and your eyes widening, before they glimmer in tears and you smile so big at him. “You’re home!”

Home, the castle never really felt like a home until you, did it?

“I’m here, why are you sleeping on my throne?” He demands, you blush then in the night, shifting to sit up, looking into his glinting ruby eyes.

“I feel so close to you here.” You admit softly.

“I need to bathe, you’ll wash me hmm?”

“Yes, Kuna.”

You’re both in the onsen, it reminds you of the first time you were taken by him, memories in every bit of the steamy room, as you start cleaning him, sitting on the edge, your legs draped in the water. You frown as you find new scars have formed, although he heals quickly, these must have been deep. You tense as you trail your washcloth across his shoulders.

“They’re just scratches, bunny. Calm down.” He says, feeling it, your worry behind him. He can feel every bit of you, even when he’s gone, he turns then, seeing your beautiful body, smiling as he sees a little roundness of your tummy. “Look at you… this body, fuck…”

“It’s showing a little.” You smile, touching it now, Sukuna leans down, pressing a kiss against it, your hands stroking his hair, feeling it slick under your fingers.

“I need you, bunny. Now.” He tugs you in the water now, you gasp as he pulls you against him, tongue on his stomach thick and wet as it laps at you between your thighs. Your head falls back for his brutal kisses, his rough bites. “Your marks have faded, need new ones huh?”

“Need them everywhere, Kuna.” Sukuna realizes you didn’t hear him earlier, because you would have been boasting about his confession if you did, but you still seem to just know, infuriating in your ability to assess him completely. “What is it, my King?”

He’s looking at you this certain way, opening and closing his lips, you wonder then what he wants to say, but holds back. Your heart is racing as you cling to him, but he kisses you instead, muffling your cries while his tongue works your cunt over and over, sliding inside you, preparing you for him.

“Miss your taste.” He huffs, lips parted, little droplets falling from his lashes. “Missed your annoyance.”

“You missed me, hmm?” You’re grinning, he’s scowling, it’s what you both seem to do, but you love it, love when you’re stretched by his cock and pressed against the wall of the bath, water undulating around you.

“Do you ever shut up?” Your giggles turn into cries soon of pleasure, as his cock drags on your walls, and she’s tightening around him.

“Kiss me.” He does as you demand, desperate and hungry, four arms taking over every bit of your body as he destroys your mind, biting your lips until they’re swollen, sinking deeper into your welcoming cavern, so warm and wet for him.

“I love you, brat.” You gasp now, blinking rapidly as you stare at him. “I won’t say this nonsense again, got it?”

“You love me!? Ah!” Sukuna shoves his cock hard in you now, you’re trying to register his words, as he fucks all sense out of your mind.

“I’ll not repeat it. You know it, yes brat?” He cups your face, gripping your chin, as your heart races, you’re trying to form a coherent word, wondering if you’re dreaming. “Your King asked you a question.”

“You l-love me?”

“Tch.” He pulls out of you, making you whine. “You’re too cock drunk to focus, aren’t you? I said I’ll not repeat myself.”

“You love me too?” You’re laid down on the towels once more, he’s hovering over you with two arms, the others gripping your face.

“Yes, you’ve cast whatever spell, evil bunny. Do you know now?” You’re sobbing, but you’re smiling, confusing the shit out of him. “Are you sad or happy, fuck!?”

“So happy, so happy. I love you and our baby so much, my King.” He rolls his eyes, scoffing, but your words melt him.

“Enough of that. Now.” He sinks back inside your cunt, moaning as he feels your wet heat after weeks of not having it. “Need to feel you cumming for me.”

*****

Your arranged marriage with Ryomen Sukuna, King of Curses, was by far and away the best thing that happened to you. You’ve already had your first child now, a son named after his father, but Sukuna is determined to have more and more of them. When you feel insecure, he scoffs and demands you stop, before his tongues and hands worship your body.

He doesn’t profess his feelings too often, but sometimes when he thinks you’re sleeping, he’ll caress your cheek and whisper ‘I love you, bunny’ thinking you don’t hear him. And every so often when he cums, he cries out in your ear just so, you hear some jumbled ‘fucking love you’ before he catches himself.

He was still a force to be entranced by anyone, but he is soft with his wife, you, his Queen, he’s soft with his son, when he thinks no one sees. Sukuna is a conundrum, and you don’t know if you’ll ever get used to his duality, brutally dominating the world one moment, and the next he’s sweetly kissing your baby’s forehead, or caressing your face softly.

Now, having recovered from having the baby, Sukuna has you on his lap during his meetings with the council often, however this time, your devious husband has his cock inside of you, under your robes. Your cunt is gushing all around him as you try to maintain your composure, and he’s delighting in it, laugh soft in your ear, tickling you as you throb.

“Stay still now bunny, they’ll know what a slut their Queen is for her King’s cocks, hmm?” He taunts, you glare at him, only serving to make him jerk his hips up just so, your eyes roll back in your skull, being stretched like this on him.

“Y-you’re the worst, K-Kuna.” You whisper back, he chuckles again, two of those huge tattooed hands pressing your hips down, stuffing his full length inside you, his tip drooling against your cervix.

“I’ll put two babies in your womb this time. Need twins.” His words end you, the council are speaking now, and you’re trying so hard not to scream out, his other cock his pressing against your clit, you’re gushing down his muscled thighs, his veiny length, feeling so fucking good you can’t take it.

“Your Majesty, we-”

“No, I’m busy.” Sukuna fucking flings his subjects, you’d normally get on him about his antics, but you can’t speak when his cock is buried so deep. He rests his chin on one hand lazily, as the other people speak, and he keeps you still, warming his cock as the other drizzles precum on your belly.

“Kuna, please…” You whisper now, and he feels you tightening, scowling up as you make him sensitive.

“You brat, you mean to tease me?” You bat your lashes innocently.

“No, my King.”

“Keep going and they’ll have their next heir right here.” He hisses, serving to make your heart race, your cunt dripping all over, he sinks a hand under your robes, his tongue from his hand lapping it up, as you bite your lip, stifling your cries. “Want them to watch me fuck another in you?”

“N-no, sadistic ass.” He glares right back, someone is saying something, but the two of you are too consumed in each other to notice.

“Stay still, brat, and I’ll let you ride me right here when we’re done, if you don’t I won’t wait, you’ll have a royal audience.”

You make it through the meeting, just barely, and soon he’s got your robes parted, and you’re straddling him on his throne, taking both of his cocks, riding him, your hands braced on his strong shoulders. He’s sucking on your nipples as your breasts bounce in his face, letting you control the pace, letting you ride him, he won’t tell you but he loves it when you do.

“Going to keep you pregnant, brat.” He huffs, wrecking you with his words, you swear you hear an I love you when he’s cumming so deep, but you let him think you don’t.

“Love you, Kuna.” You murmur, it makes him melt, but he just glares.

“You can still talk, huh bunny? Need to fix that.”If Sukuna is a little softer these days, he has only his very bratty bride to blame, you.

A/N- aww this was so fun, I loved writing this fun little mini series here. It was fluffy and filthy and I enjoyed making Sukuna soft, idk idk lol!. Ty for the love on this little thing!? Ya'll I'm hooked on Sukuna fr lol (already wrote modern Sukuna nowww) so plenty more to come.

Taglist (Rest will go in repost!) - @mistygrovesarchive @mima0127 @janrcrosssing @thejujvtsupost @clp-84 @makingtimemine @silvarys @after-laughter-come-tears @yenayaps @vantedaes @liivzen @just-lilita @jdevilmadness @lixern @spaceeyhem @thisisew @bozos-r-us @slootbear @pamemoonlight @xxyaoi-nationxx @jschlattsgff @alessdramawouldbenice @sukunasfavgroupie @1emma1 @nanamjai @1-800-blues-clues   @watashiwasohidesu @vynwan-cbq  @mouseyboo @imbacklovie @cyberket @chuuminn @diannana @hanham10 @arilxup88 @suna-is-my-one-and-only @yv-ania @urgirlraven @sillymortalblob @nana-thee-galaxy-g1rl @jiahu

[geneviveleocardius]

some husband material headcanons with simon riley

late-night garage dances are his quiet way of loving you. when the house is quiet and you’re both waiting for your daughter to get home from a party, he’ll pull you into a slow dance. he doesn’t say much, just rests his chin on your head as the two of you sway to soft music in the dim light.

if you’re too tired to shower, he’ll gently coax you into letting him wash your hair. his hands are rough but so careful, massaging your scalp in a way that makes your shoulders relax instantly.

when you’re at the beach, you trace your name on his back with sunscreen, leaving the rest bare. later, when the tan sets in and your name is etched on his skin, he looks at it in the mirror and smirks. he loves the quiet claim you have on him, even if he pretends to roll his eyes when you point it out.

simon takes his time applying sunscreen to you at the beach, even though he could be quick about it. he’s meticulous, rubbing it in gently over your shoulders and back, making sure you don’t miss a spot. “can’t have you burning, love,” he says softly. he always uses it as an excuse to trail his fingers along your skin, a subtle moment of affection.

he’s big on touch, even if he doesn’t always initiate it. his favorite moments are when you lay your head on his chest at night and trace the scars on his arms. he doesn’t always talk about them, but he likes the way you don’t shy away from them either.

he’s the kind of dad who stays up until he hears the door click after a late night out. he’ll mutter about the time under his breath, but he softens immediately when your daughter leans in to give him a quick hug before heading to bed.

if he hears you sigh in frustration while cooking or doing something around the house, he’ll quietly walk over, take whatever you’re holding, and finish the job without a word.

he doesn’t say it often, but he loves being domestic with you. folding laundry, fixing things around the house, or even grocery shopping together is calming for him.

simon keeps a picture of the two of you tucked in his wallet—a candid photo of you laughing. when he’s away, he takes it out to remind himself what’s waiting for him back home.

he’ll let you put ridiculous face masks on him during a lazy evening, even though he grumbles about it. “this better not make me smell like a bloody fruit salad,” he mutters, but he stays still for you.

he’s terrible at hiding his smile when he hears you laugh. even in the most mundane moments, your happiness is his favorite sound.

sometimes, he’ll sneak up behind you, wrap his arms around your waist, and sway you gently to a song only he can hear.

if your child ever talks back to you or says something disrespectful, simon doesn’t let it slide for a second. his voice is calm but firm as he says, “that’s your mum you’re speaking to. apologize—now.” he rarely raises his voice, but the weight behind his words is enough to make them realize they’ve crossed a line. later, he’ll sit down with them, explaining why respect is non-negotiable. “she does everything for us. you don’t ever treat her like that, understood?”

when you have surgery, simon steps into full caregiver mode, even though it’s not something he’s entirely used to. he carefully helps you into the bath, always making sure you’re comfortable and secure. his touch is gentle as he washes you, murmuring, “tell me if anything hurts.”

he dries your hair after the bath, combing it slowly so it doesn’t tangle. “you’re still as gorgeous as ever,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

he insists on carrying you to bed, even if you tell him you can walk. “don’t argue with me, love. you’re meant to rest.” he tucks you in, makes sure you have everything you need, and stays close by in case you need him during the night.

simon takes every opportunity to teach your child the importance of kindness, especially toward you. he models this by being gentle with you, always showing them how love and respect are expressed.

he’s a firm dad, but never unfair. when he has to scold your child, he always makes sure they understand why their behavior was wrong, but he’s quick to reassure them that he loves them no matter what.

during your recovery from surgery, simon takes over all the household duties. he’s not a great cook, but he’ll follow recipes to the letter to make sure you’re well-fed. when something doesn’t turn out quite right, he mutters, “bloody hell,” but doesn’t stop trying.

[hiraethwrote]

contents : no pronouns but written with f!reader in mind, eating, established relationship, very self indulgent/selfship coded, insecure reader, a little hurt to comfort ig, sprinkle of angst, fluff, no use of y/n wc < 1k

you didn’t like how the question had just slipped out, your insecurities getting the best of you. it wasn’t a side of yourself you liked to give attention to, but once the spiral started it was hard to stop it.

and it caused your boyfriend to sit with the smuggest smirk of mockery smeared across his face, and an eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“don’t look at me like that,” you retaliate against his look, earning you a low mixture of a scoff and a chuckle. it causes you to shrink in your seat, simply picking at your food with your fork.

“it’s a dumb question,” he states simply, the sly curve of his lips never losing an ounce of smugness.

“it’s not,” you mumble mostly to yourself as you avert your gaze to ogle mindlessly at the meal in front of you. you know there isn’t any ill intent in satoru's witty comments — there rarely is — you just aren’t in a state of mind where his silly jokes do you any good, your insecurities quickly deafening any sense of reason.

there’s a moment of silence, where it seems like the conversation has come to an end as quickly as it sprouted, leaving you to wallow even more in your own self deprecating mind before satoru quickly resurrects it.

“of course we would find each other in every universe.”

without hesitation, you tilt your head back up to direct all your attention at him again, staring big eyed at him with your lips parted in delightful surprise.

“what?” he asks, pausing mid bite. you try to read his face, see if there’s any bit of that classic satoru joking tone snuck into his confession — you find none.

“you’re saying it as if it’s so obvious.”

“because it is?” he shrugs nonchalantly before letting his teeth sink into the food for another bite.

the insecurity has slowly turned into interrogation, narrowing your eyebrows and leaning back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest. with a deep exhale, he drops his fork, folds his arms and leans forward on the table, the subtlest smirk stamped at the corner of his lips again.

“i just feel it.”

“you just feel it?”

“uh huh.”

“how exactly do you feel it.”

“you’re so deeply ingrained in me, so i know our connections travels dimensions.”

with his beautiful blue eyes staring into the deepest parts of your soul, the parts only he has been able to reach, he takes your breath away.

and as easy as that, he sends your insecurities astray — just like he always does.

then you see it, all over him, the love he has for you that he always carries so proudly on his sleeve.

it’s in the softness in his eyes when they have the privilege of looking at you. it’s in the crinkles by his eyes from falling asleep with a smile on his face when you’re in his arms. it’s on his lips when they curve, no matter how wide or slanted, always caused by the thought of you. and it’s in his shoulders, when your presence allows him to relax, finding no sound more peaceful then the sound of your voice.

because what you deem to be your flaws, satoru views as gifts.

he has never thought that your laugh grows too loud or obnoxious. to him it’s a reminder of life, and a clear sign that happiness is running through you. never has it crossed his mind that you might talk too much, knowing he could simply sit until the end of time and listen to you ramble.

satoru's smile quickly falters when he sees a shy pool well up along your waterline. “no, hey-“ he stutters, a little confused as he rises from his chair. before you even have the chance to comprehend his actions, he’s already stood behind you in your chair, wrapping his strong arms around you, his face pressed up against the side of yours. “if i said anything wrong…” he trails off, and you feel his embrace tighten.

a sad, little chuckle escapes you. “you didn’t,” it comes out weak but you know he hears you. you let your hands grab ahold of his forearms and squeeze, the only thing you feel like you can physically do to show him you’re okay as the tears slowly roll down your cheeks. “quite the opposite, really,” you sniffle.

“oh,” then he’s quiet for a moment, before you feel that smile return to his face. “you’re quite dramatic, aren’t you?”

he manages to draw a brighter laugh from your lips. “learned from you.”

“aah, that’s why you’re so good at it.”

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning into his comfort, feeling so small as he continues to hold you. his embrace is so secure it feels like he’ll never let go — and he knows he wouldn’t, if that’s what you needed.

“what are you sorry for?” he asks softly, his words of worry only able to be heard by you.

your shoulders rise in a restricted shrug. “being dramatic, as you said.” as the words travel past your tongue, you feel his arms flex tighter around you — if that’s even possible.

“stop that.” you feel his thumb slowly stroke you. “it’s okay. and i’ll always be here to calm you down.”

for a second you just take in his promise of devotion, and nod in agreement. “okay.”

“besides,” he breathes. “you’ll never be more dramatic than me, so i think we’ll be good.”

once again he manages to make you laugh, and his heart flutters.

©hiraethwrote 2025 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[yassbishimvintage]

Ain't Got Shit On Me

MDNI!!!

A/N: @avoidthings be clocking me on all of my shit :). Thanks you bookie.

Warnings: Little fluff if you squint, but smutty smut

It was a quiet night. Terry is busy organizing their room. Something to help with the noise in his head. Terry looked up from the dresser, his brows raised slightly in curiosity. "What’s on your mind, sweetheart?" he asked, leaning back against the counter, giving her his full attention. Imani hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shirt before she took a breath. "Do you ever think about what life would’ve been like if we hadn’t met? If... things didn’t happen the way they did?"

Terry’s expression softened as he set the monitor down and crossed the space between them. He gently cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing lightly against her cheeks. "I don’t like to think about that, Imani," he admitted. "Because if we hadn’t met, I wouldn’t have the life I have now. No you. No us. None of this."

His voice dropped, filled with quiet intensity. "You changed everything for me. You gave me purpose, love, and a family. So, no, I don’t let myself imagine a life without you because it’s not a life I’d want to live."

Imani’s eyes shimmered with emotion as she leaned into his touch, her heart swelling at his words. "You always know what to say to make me feel like the luckiest woman in the world," she said softly.

Terry smiled, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "That’s because you are," he teased lightly, before adding with sincerity, "and so am I."

He smiles. “Now. My real question is. I still don’t know all of you're sex kinks.” She says.

Terry raised an eyebrow, a sly smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he crossed his arms. "Oh, is that so?" he said, his voice low and teasing. "You mean to tell me you still haven’t figured me out after all this time?"

Imani shrugged, feigning innocence, but the sparkle in her eyes betrayed her playful intent. "Well, you’re full of surprises, Mr. Richmond. I’m just making sure I’m not missing anything... important," she said, her tone light but laced with curiosity.

Terry stepped closer, his hands finding her waist, pulling her gently against him. "Alright, Mrs. Richmond," he murmured, leaning in close, his lips brushing her ear. "How about this? I tell you one of my kinks... but you have to tell me one of yours right after. Deal?"

Imani bit her lip, her cheeks warming under his gaze, but she nodded. "Deal," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Terry grinned, leaning back just enough to meet her eyes. "Okay, here’s one: I love it when you’re completely in charge," he confessed, his tone both honest and flirtatious. "Something about seeing you take control drives me crazy."

Imani blinked in surprise before a slow, mischievous smile spread across her face. "Really?" she asked, her confidence growing as she processed his words. "Good to know... because I happen to like it when you let me take the lead."

Terry chuckled, his hands slipping down to her hips. "Looks like we’re on the same page then," he said, his voice deep with amusement. "Your turn, though. What’s something I don’t know about you?"

Imani hesitated for a moment, her eyes flickering to the side before she met his gaze again. "Alright," she said, a hint of shyness in her tone. "I love it when you whisper in my ear during... well, you know."

Terry’s grin widened as he leaned in, his lips grazing her ear once more. "You mean like this?" he whispered, his voice a seductive rumble that sent a shiver down her spine.

Imani laughed softly, her hands pressing against his chest. "You’re impossible," she said, shaking her head, though her smile never faded.

"And you love it," Terry replied confidently, pulling her closer for a lingering kiss. "Guess we’ll just have to keep discovering more about each other, huh?"

"Guess so," Imani murmured against his lips, her heart fluttering at the thought.

“And I know you’re a panty sniffer.” She says as she walks away from him with a smile. Terry froze mid-step, blinking in surprise at Imani's bold statement. A slow, mischievous grin crept across his face as he watched her saunter away, her hips swaying just enough to taunt him.

"Excuse me?" he called out, his tone a mix of amusement and mock indignation.

Imani glanced over her shoulder, her smile playful and teasing. "You heard me, Mr. Richmond," she said, her voice lilting with humor. "Don’t think I haven’t noticed."

Terry shook his head, chuckling as he crossed his arms. "Alright, Ms. Carter, you got jokes today," he said, his gaze fixed on her with a smirk. "But you’re not exactly innocent yourself, are you?"

Imani turned fully to face him, her arms crossed and her expression feigning innocence. "Oh? And what exactly are you accusing me of?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

Terry took a step closer, his eyes narrowing slightly as he leaned in. "Let’s not forget the time I caught you ‘borrowing’ one of my shirts because it smelled like me," he teased. "Or the fact that you still wear it to bed sometimes."

Imani rolled her eyes, though her cheeks flushed slightly. "That’s completely different," she argued, waving him off.

"Different? How?" Terry pressed, clearly enjoying the exchange.

"Because it’s cute when I do it," Imani quipped, her grin widening as she turned to walk away again.

Terry laughed, shaking his head as he followed her. "Alright, you win this round," he conceded. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with calling me out like that."

"Oh, I’m counting on it," Imani called back, her voice full of playful confidence as she disappeared into the next room.

“So what’s the reason for it?” She asks.

Terry followed her into the next room, his smirk still in place as he leaned casually against the doorframe. He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her.

"The reason for what?" he asked, though the knowing glint in his eyes betrayed him.

Imani turned to face him fully, arms crossed and a playful smile tugging at her lips. "You know what I mean," she said. "What’s the reason for the whole…panty-sniffing thing?"

Terry laughed, the sound low and rich as he pushed off the doorframe and walked toward her. "You really want to know?" he asked, his voice dropping just enough to make her heart skip.

She nodded, her curiosity genuine despite the teasing nature of the conversation. "Yes, I want to know."

He stopped in front of her, his hands settling on her hips as he looked down into her eyes. "It’s simple," he said softly. "It’s you."

"Me?" she repeated, her voice quieter now.

"Yeah," he replied, his gaze steady. "It’s the way everything about you—your scent, your touch, your presence—drives me crazy. It’s like…a reminder of how close we are, how much I love every part of you."

Imani felt her cheeks flush, her teasing demeanor giving way to a softer expression. "Oh," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Terry leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead before pulling back to meet her eyes again. "So, there’s your answer," he said with a small smile. "It’s not just a kink. It’s…you."

Imani smiled back, her arms winding around his neck as she leaned into him. "You’re lucky I love you," she teased, though her voice was warm.

"I’m the luckiest man in the world," Terry replied, his tone sincere as he held her close.

She smirks as she steps out of her shorts. She slides down her lace panties. 

Terry’s gaze followed her every movement, his breath hitching slightly as she let the lace fabric fall to the floor. She stood there, her smirk unwavering, her confidence radiating through the room.

"Now, Mr. Richmond," she teased, stepping closer to him, "since you’re so fascinated, why don’t you show me just how much you love me?"

Terry swallowed hard, his smirk turning into a full grin. "You’re playing a dangerous game, Mrs. Richmond," he said, his voice low and gravelly as his hands reached out to grip her hips.

"Am I?" she challenged, tilting her head as her fingers lightly trailed along his jawline.

Without another word, Terry scooped her up effortlessly, carrying her over to the bed. He set her down gently, his body hovering over hers as he locked eyes with her. "You have no idea what you just started," he murmured, his lips brushing against hers.

Imani's laughter filled the room, light and teasing. "Oh, I think I do," she whispered, pulling him down to meet her in a kiss that left no doubt about where the rest of their evening was heading

He picks up the lace panties. Terry leaned down and picked up the delicate lace panties from the floor, twirling them around his finger as he shot Imani a playful, yet devilish, grin.

"You know," he began, his voice smooth and teasing, "these might just be my favorite pair yet. Not because of how they look—but because of what they just witnessed."

Imani raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms as she lounged on the bed, clearly amused. "You’re ridiculous, Terry," she said with a smirk, through her eyes sparkled with affection.

He stepped closer, dangling the lace in front of her. "Oh, come on now, Mrs. Richmond. Admit it—you left them on purpose. You knew I wouldn’t be able to resist."

She laughed softly, pulling him down by his shirt. "Maybe I did. Or maybe I just know my boyfriend too well."

Terry leaned in, his lips grazing her ear as he whispered, "Either way, you know what this does to me."

Before she could respond, he kissed her neck, trailing his hands over her waist as he tossed the lace aside. His voice dropped to a husky tone. "Now, let me show you exactly how much I appreciate your little game."

He slowly laid her down on the bed and lowered his head. “Tell me to stop.” his voice dangerously low. She smiles and tosses her head back. “Just shut up and eat me out already.” she responds.

Tags 🏷️

@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayaesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmyextragum

[rafesangelita]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | FIVE

a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©

SUMMARY: finding you when he thought all hope was lost, rafe decides that this is the last time you two will ever be separated.. til’ death do you part.

WARNINGS: lots of emotions lol, crying, angst, description of unprotected sex, fluff

LINKS: series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

“how did you find me?” you’re pulling rafe inside by his shirt, his hands finding your hips as he stared at you incredulously. he couldn’t believe you were in front of him. he didn’t answer, instead he took your face in his hands, tears brimming his eyes as he rested his forehead on yours. “please never do that again.” you felt your heart break when his voice came out shaky, your own tears already rolling down your cheeks. “i’m so sorry—” rafe shut the door, clicking the lock shut before sitting you down on the motel bed.

“i got your note,” rafe made sure to keep your hand in his as he spoke, “i know that you left because you felt like you were doing the right thing.” he laughed bitterly, flashbacks of the look on his dad’s face when he saw that you didn’t take the money ran through his mind. “but i need you to know something else..” your heart was beating out of your chest, a million words sitting on the tip of your tongue. there was so many things you wanted to say, but you didn’t know where to start.

“doing the ‘right thing’ would never result in us being away from each other. you sacrificed everything and left behind everything you’ve ever known for me, so i made my own sacrifices too.” just as you were going to question what he meant, he held up his hand, the gold ring that he once wore with the utmost pride was now gone. your eyes widened, your lips parting as you shook your head. “oh, rafe..” inspecting his fingers, you couldn’t help but run your digits over his palm, “what did you do? what did i do?”

regret pooled in your stomach. the one thing you didn’t want to happen, happened. “hey, look at me— you didn’t do a damn thing, alright? my dad didn’t take anything from me, i left it. the same way you walked away from everything, so did i.” your head shot up at his words. “you left it? the business, your family ring, everything?” rafe watched as the corner of your eyes became wet with tears, your chin wobbling slightly. “y/n,” he stroked the side of your face, “everything means absolutely nothing if i don’t have you by my side.” you swore you could’ve died right there.

rafe embraced you as you let out a sob, your hands clinging onto him as if he’d disappear from your grasp. “i’m so sorry i left!” you cried out into his chest, “i’ll never leave you again, i swear it!” your arms moved to wrap around his neck, your heart finally feeling full again. rafe shushed you, rubbing your back soothingly as you two cried in each other’s embrace. rafe knew it was now or never. everything that you two have been through— all the tears, all the scrutiny and pain, trials and tribulations, all the laughs, the sweet moments, the whispering of words in the dark, all of it was meant to lead up to this very moment.

rafe pulled away, taking both of your hands in his as he moved down to the floor— on one knee. sniffling, you watched with a confused gaze as rafe reached into his pocket. “i bought this ring the morning i first left your camper,” your eyes widened as he pulled out a small box, “you left one of your rings on the bathroom sink and i took it with me to get an accurate size on this one,” he laughed, “i thought i was crazy when i was there buying it from the jeweler, but it all makes sense now.” a small gasp left your lips when he opened the box, revealing a dainty diamond ring. “rafe..” your voice was barely above a whisper.

“marry me.”

his words cut through the air, your breath catching in your throat. “what?” a hint of a smile played on your lips as his eyes got lost in your own. “marry me,” he repeated, “you fulfilled wedding vows since the very beginning. ‘for better, for worse.’ you and me made decisions, we let go of things despite how painful it was, we did it for each other,” rafe swallowed thickly. ‘for richer, for poorer.’ you never cared about how much money i had, you welcomed me into your camper and we made the best of it,” he rose his eyebrows suggestively, making a giggle fall from your lips at the memories of you two getting tangled in your bed.

tightening your grip on his hand, your smile faded when he broke down, his shoulders shaking slightly as his head hung in complete surrender. “you didn’t give up on me when you had every reason to. ‘in sickness and in health.’ you stuck by me when i was at the height of my addiction, and i could never thank you enough for never losing faith in me. i yelled at you, i talked to you harshly— fuck, i hate myself for that. i was in the worst shape i had ever been in, and you still looked at me as if i hung the stars up for you. you loved me at my worst, and brought me back up to be my best.” now you were crying too, small hiccups emitting from your throat.

“y/n, will you please do me the honor of giving me your hand in marriage?” rafe glanced up at you, the expression on your face unreadable. “of course i will.” that was all rafe needed before he slid the beautiful ring on your finger, both of you pulling each other into a searing kiss. with his lips still connected to yours, rafe took a seat on the bed, pulling you on top of his lap effortlessly. you two stayed like this until the tears on your cheeks dried, both of you growing needy for something more than just rushed kisses and lingering touches.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered against his lips, “i never want to be away from you ever again.” rafe’s eyes were now clouded with something else other than tears— lust. “stop saying sorry. nothing else matters right now.” rafe’s fingers slipped underneath your top, your eyes fluttering shut as he licked a stripe up the column of your throat. groaning at the taste of your skin, you gasped when he cupped you through the lacey material of your bra. being apart from one another was one thing, but not being able to hold, love, or touch each other was completely different.

“i’ve been staying at your camper for this past week, you wanna know why?” you moaned softly as he took your top off, humming a small ‘why?’ before you tugged at his shirt. “because it smells like you. the sheets, your pillows, everything, it all smelled like you and i needed to feel you close somehow.” you pulled away at the revelation, your hands coming up to cup cheeks. “please let me make it up to you..” your voice was so sweet, but the indication of your words was even sweeter. “oh, you will.” rafe nodded to himself, his hand coming up to unclasp your bra.

rafe laid you down and worshipped your body as if it was your first time together all over’s again. not a single inch of your body went untouched, the man above you whispering praises again your skin. you two laughed, cried, kissed, and hugged all while he rocked inside of you, his fingers intertwined with yours as he continuously placed kisses to your knuckles. he was gentle, yet so precise with his movements, you were easily gasping his name in no time. never looking away from each other once, you held eye contact while he spilled into you, his lips molding to yours as if they were made just for you.

“i love you.” you smiled softly as his breath fanned against your cheek. pulling him flush against your chest, you wrapped your legs around his waist in order to keep him between your thighs. “i love you, too.” rafe rested his forehead in the curve of your neck, his large palms rubbing soft circles into your skin. you two stayed like this until he pecked the corner of your lips, rolling to your side before taking you in his arms. with your back to him, both of you admired your ring as if you couldn’t believe this was actually happening. “rafe?” you whispered, a smile gracing your lips when he hummed.

“i can’t believe it..” rafe trailed kisses along the back of your shoulder, his hand holding up your own. “i can,” he started, “i knew this day was going to come, i just wish i did it sooner.” you turned around in his embrace, running your index finger along his jaw. “you never answered my question earlier.” rafe’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. “what? how i found you?” nodding, you let your eyes trail over his features as he explained himself. “well i searched the whole island, and when people told me they hadn’t see you anywhere i figured that meant you left it altogether.”

your eyes widened at his words. “you looked for me all this time?” you already felt bad for leaving in the first place, but now you felt even worse. “of course i did. i went to the icecream parlor and asked around for you there, and then i went to the country club, but everyone just kept saying the same thing.” you closed your eyes, a defeated sigh falling from your lips. “i looked up the closest motel and this place showed up, so now i’m here.” rafe was unbelievable. “i need to get you a wedding band!” you gasped, the realization dawning on you once you stroked his empty fingers.

“i already got one. it’s at the camper.” you stared at him blankly. “rafe cameron.” he smiled when you said his full name, finding amusement in the way your voice sounded serious all of a sudden. “i mean it when i say i thought everything through already,” he kissed you, “i never really understood what people said, but now i get it.” smiling against his lips, you looked up at him through your lashes. “what do you mean? what did they say?” rafe cradled your head, those blue eyes of his dripping pure adoration for you as he spoke.

“when you know, you know.”

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @lacydollette @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine @maybankslover @ilovefiction4lmen @rafesfavouritegirl @katekells @winnie1emon @sexysadie23 @hewwokitti @avvwritesstufff @purplerose291 @avengersgirllorianna @rafegf-real @impossibleturkeydiplomatghost @dearestjune @finnickodairslut @starkeysprincess @stoned-writer @just-here-for-ff @snowtargaryen @sarahsangelicdoll @imjustagirl713 @hypnotizedstarkey

[rosemariiaa]

02 sᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀɴᴄᴇs, ғɪʀsᴛ ᴄʀᴜsʜᴇs

𐙚—pairing: Paige x Azzi

𐙚—rosie’s note:i have nothing to say but enjoy this long and sad ass flashback and yeah..pls don’t humor me! live reacts are very much wanted and needed!! also wanted to say tysmmm for 700+ followers, i love evb soo much and ty for being here! happy reading lovelies 💌

𐙚—links: rosie’s bookshelf, series masterlist , prologue

𐙚—themes: au (time travel), angst, fluff (if you squint), hurt/comfort, mentions of depression

𐙚—taglist: @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @makethemhoesmad @imaginespazzi @sierrale8ne @bueckersbitch @xxloveralways14 @kmoneymartini @lupinqs @pboogerswbb @pbaz7 @guesswhoitsn @patri-ots87 @ashortyluvsports @absolutelydreadful @pazzilover101

enjoy!!!

Storrs, Connecticut 2021

It started a few weeks after Azzi and Paige made their “agreement”. That’s what Azzi called it in her head—a way to convince herself it was something mutual, something they both wanted. In reality, it was her idea. She was the one who said, “We can’t keep doing this,” and Paige had gone along with it, like she always did.

Azzi thought it would be better this way, safer. If they stayed just friends, they couldn’t hurt each other. But watching Paige move on, watching her live out this version of their lives that Azzi thought she wanted—God, it was killing her.

The first time Paige mentioned Leana, Azzi didn’t think much of it. Paige always had a way of making friends quickly, effortlessly. But then Leana started showing up, a lot. At the end of practice. At team dinners. At their apartment.

Paige introduced her to the team a few days after their conversation, her arm slung around Leana’s shoulders like it was nothing. Like it wasn’t the same way she used to hold Azzi. And Leana? She was perfect. Nice. Pretty. Confident in a way that made Azzi’s stomach churn with jealousy? No, Azzi never really got jealous when Paige would be with other girls. Especially because they would only last a day or a few hours, but Leana would not stop showing up.

So, it was definitely not jealousy. Hatred.

Azzi hated her. She hated how she laughed at Paige’s jokes, how she touched Paige’s arm all the time like it was it was gonna grow legs and run away if she didn’t, how Paige seemed to shine a little brighter whenever Leana was around.

She hated how much she wanted Leana to be awful. Selfish. Mean. Anything that would give Paige a reason to leave her, to come back to Azzi. So Azzi could hold her and comfort her, the way she always used to. But that wasn’t going to happen. Leana wasn’t a bad person, and Paige didn’t need Azzi anymore.

Fuck. What did I do?

Azzi tried to convince herself she was fine. That she didn’t care. That this was what she wanted. Right?

But then, tonight, she saw them in the dining hall. Paige was leaning against the table, laughing at something Leana had said, her head tilted back, blonde waves brushing her back. She looked happy. Free.

And then Paige’s hand went to the small of Leana’s back.

Azzi froze.

Her breath caught in her chest, her heart pounding in her ears. That was her spot. Paige used to do that to her all the time—those small, familiar touches that felt like secrets only they shared. And now Paige was doing it to someone else.

She would never do that to Azzi again.

The realization hit her like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she thought she might be sick. She thought her heart had already broken, but somehow, it found a new way to break.

Because even though Azzi was the one who asked for this—even though she was the one who insisted they be just friends—watching Paige with someone else made her realize just how wrong she’d been.

She turned away before they could see her, her fists clenched at her sides as she hurried out of the dining hall. Her vision blurred, hot tears slipping down her cheeks before she could stop them.

This was what she wanted.

This was what she’d asked for.

So why did it feel like this?

Azzi wiped at her face, angry at herself for crying. She couldn’t help but think about the agreement again, how it all started.

She could still see Paige’s expression that night, the way her brows furrowed, her lips pulling into a small frown as she listened to Azzi stumble through her words.

few weeks earlier..

Paige sat down beside her, resting her elbows on her knees. “We need to talk.”

Azzi’s shoulders tensed, but she closed her laptop and turned to face Paige. “About what?”

“About why you’ve been avoiding me,” Paige said bluntly.

Azzi’s lips parted, but she hesitated. “I haven’t been avoiding you.”

“Az,” Paige said softly, giving her a pointed look.

Azzi sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I just… I needed space. To figure things out.”

“Figure what out?” Paige asked, her voice steady but laced with concern.

Azzi stared at her hands, fidgeting with the hem of her sweatshirt. “Paige, I can’t keep doing this. We said we’d be friends, and then I end up in your room, in your bed… It’s confusing.”

Paige leaned closer, her brows furrowed. “You just wanted to sleep and it’s not confusing to me. I know how I feel about you, Az.”

Azzi shook her head quickly, cutting her off. “That’s the problem. I don’t think I know how to stop letting this happen. And I don’t trust myself not to hurt you or get hurt again.”

Paige’s jaw tightened, her voice dropping. “So, what? You’re scared, so you’re just gonna shut me out? We’ve been through too much for that.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” Azzi said, her voice rising slightly. “I’m trying to protect us. You and me. If we keep crossing these lines, it’s only gonna end the same way it did before.”

Paige exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down her face. “You’re making this harder than it has to be. I get it, Az. I do. But I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I don’t want more.”

Azzi’s eyes softened, but she looked away. “And what happens when it gets messy again, Paige? What happens when we mess this up? I can’t lose you completely.”

Paige’s voice was quiet but firm. “You’re not gonna lose me.”

Azzi didn’t respond, her silence weighing heavy in the room.

Paige hesitated before speaking again. “So, what does this mean? Do I still get my goodnight kiss, or is that part of the deal over too?”

Azzi’s eyes shot to Paige, her cheeks flushing. “Paige…”

“What?” Paige said, trying to keep her tone light despite the tension. “I’m just asking.”

Azzi sighed, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. “Yes, you still get your goodnight kiss. But just… don’t make it a thing, okay?”

Paige grinned. “No promises.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, but her smile lingered as she stood up. “I’m going to bed.”

“Hold up,” Paige said, standing too. She leaned down slightly, her voice soft. “Goodnight, Az.”

Azzi hesitated, then stepped closer, pressing a quick kiss to both of Paige’s cheeks. “Goodnight, Paige.”

As she walked away, Paige watched her go, her heart heavy but hopeful. This wasn’t what she wanted, not entirely. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.

present day

Azzi knew she was fucked the moment she made the decision. She knew she was fucked when Paige agreed. She knew she was fucked when she realized Paige could talk to, kiss, and hold any girl she wanted now.

Because they were just friends.

And Azzi was completely, utterly fucked.

—

The past weeks have been hell. It was like she was going through the stages of “grief” or whatever. That’s how Azzi thought of it, at least. How else could she explain the sinking pit in her chest every time Paige and Leana walked into a room together? Or the way her throat tightened when she saw Paige’s hand on Leana’s ass or her arm thrown over Leana’s shoulder, her smile too wide, her laugh too loud? Seems fake to me. She thought.

The team noticed it, of course. How could they not?

Azzi’s energy had shifted. She was way quieter, more withdrawn during practice. When Leana was around, her answers became clipped, her eyes glued to the floor like she couldn’t bear to look at anyone. It didn’t help that Leana fit in so well. The team adored her.

KK had asked her once, “Az, you good?” when they were running laps.

“I’m fine,” she’d lied, her voice sharp enough to end the conversation. But KK’s look lingered, filled with concern Azzi refused to acknowledge.

She wasn’t fine. Not even close.

First stage: Denial

Azzi told herself this was temporary. It had to be.

Paige didn’t really like Leana, not like that. It was just something new, something casual to pass the time. Paige didn’t do relationships, not seriously, and this one wouldn’t last either.

Azzi clung to that thought like a lifeline.

But then Paige started bringing Leana to team dinners. She started showing up with her at practice, standing too close, laughing too hard. And when Azzi saw them together, her chest tightened like someone was physically squeezing the air out of her lungs.

One night, she sat on the couch in Caroline’s apartment, her hands gripping a throw pillow as if she could crush the ache out of her chest.

“I keep telling myself it’s nothing,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “That she’ll get bored and come back. But what if she doesn’t, Carol? What if—” Her voice cracked, and the words wouldn’t come.

Caroline pulled her into a hug, her voice soft and steady. “I’m sorry, Az. I know this sucks. But you can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Azzi didn’t reply. Because what was she supposed to say? That she didn’t know how to stop?

Second stage: Anger

The denial didn’t last. It couldn’t—not when Paige started bringing Leana to their apartment.

Azzi walked in one day after practice to find Leana sitting on the couch, Paige sprawled next to her, both of them laughing at something on Leana’s phone. Paige looked up, her face lighting up when she saw Azzi.

“Oh hey, Az. You hungry? We’re ordering sushi.”

We. Azzi hated the word.

She dropped her bag by the door, her jaw tight as she muttered, “I’m good,” before disappearing into her room.

That night, she slammed her bedroom door harder than necessary, her chest heaving with an anger she couldn’t contain.

Paige was supposed to be hers. She didn’t care how selfish it sounded—she didn’t want to share Paige with anyone else. Especially not Leana.

Third stage: Bargaining

Azzi started picking apart every moment she’d shared with Paige, searching for something she could’ve done differently.

Maybe if she hadn’t been so stubborn about staying “just friends.” Maybe if she’d let herself fall the way she wanted to—completely, unapologetically. Maybe Paige would’ve stayed.

She confided in Caroline again one night, her voice barely above a whisper as she lay curled up on the couch.

“What if I just tell her?” she asked, her hands twisting the hem of her hoodie. “What if I tell her I messed up, that I want her back?”

Caroline gave her a look that was equal parts sympathy and concern. “Az, you’re the one who pushed her away. Do you think telling her now is going to change anything? She’s with Leana.”

Azzi’s stomach sank at the words, but she couldn’t let go of the thought. What if Paige still loved her? What if there was a chance, no matter how small?

When Caroline finally left, Azzi retreated to her bedroom, unable to escape the weight of her emotions. Her eyes landed on the photo frame on her nightstand—the picture of her and Paige after their U16 gold medal win. Paige’s smile in the photo was the kind that made Azzi’s chest ache, bright and unguarded, as if she’d never known heartbreak.

It had become a nightly ritual, one that Azzi couldn’t bring herself to stop. She picked up the frame, her fingers trembling as she brushed over the glass. “I’m sorry, P,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I shouldn’t have pushed you away.”

She pressed her lips to the corner of Paige’s smile in the photo, just like she used to do before bed. It was their tradition—their goodnight kiss. Only now, it was one-sided. A ghost of a memory that haunted her.

“Goodnight,” she murmured, her lips still resting against the glass. “Sweet dreams, P.”

Azzi set the frame back down and collapsed onto her bed, clutching the pillow to her chest. Maybe if I hadn’t been scared. Maybe if I just told her now…

Her mind raced with impossible scenarios, rewinding and replaying their history, searching for the moment she could fix, the word she could take back, the step she could retrace.

But in the end, she was left clutching nothing but a pillow and a memory, her tears soaking into the fabric.

Fourth stage: Depression

The hope didn’t last.

It was gone the night Azzi walked into the gym to find Paige and Leana standing by the bleachers. Paige’s hand was on Leana’s waist, positioning her towards the basket, Azzi felt her heart crack open all over again.

She barely made it through practice, her movements sluggish, her mind a blur. By the time she got home, she was shaking, tears streaming down her face as she stumbled into her bedroom.

Caroline found her an hour later, curled up on the floor, her chest heaving with silent sobs.

“I can’t do this,” Azzi whispered, her voice broken. “I can’t—she’s everywhere, Care. And I can’t—” She gasped for air, her words dissolving into another sob.

Caroline sat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Az, you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m here, okay? Whatever you need.”

Azzi nodded, but the ache in her chest didn’t fade.

She thought about their first kiss. On the dock, at the lake house of Azzi’s grandparents, the way Paige’s lips had been so soft, so sure.

Would Paige still think about it?

Would she remember the way they’d laughed afterward, giddy and breathless, as if the world had suddenly cracked open and spilled all its light into their lives?

Azzi closed her eyes, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Will I still cross your mind in a year, Paige? she wondered, her heart aching. Will you miss us, even for a second?

Because Azzi did. She missed Paige every day, every second of every day. She missed the way they fit together, like two halves of a whole, and the way Paige used to make her feel seen, like she was the only person in the world who mattered.

I miss you, she thought, her chest heaving with the weight of it. I miss us.

But Paige was with Leana now, and Azzi was just a ghost in her life—a shadow of what they used to be.

And no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Paige had already moved on.

Stage 5: Acceptance? No. The lack of Acceptance

No matter how hard she tried, Azzi couldn’t let go.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the way Paige used to look at her, like she was the only person in the room. She couldn’t stop replaying their last kiss in her mind—the warmth of Paige’s lips, the way she’d whispered, “Just friends,” like it was a promise they could keep.

But they couldn’t.

And Azzi couldn’t accept it. She couldn’t accept that Paige was gone, that she’d moved on, that the life they’d imagined together was slipping further out of reach with every passing day.

She wanted to scream, to cry, to do anything that might ease the crushing weight on her chest. But all she could do was sit in her room, staring at the wall, as the realization settled in:

She wasn’t grieving Paige. She was grieving herself—the part of her that had believed in them, the part of her that had loved Paige so fiercely it burned.

And now, all she had left were the ashes.

—

Paige didn’t like Leana.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She liked her well enough to talk to her, to hang out with her when the apartment felt too quiet, too empty, too suffocating without Azzi. But when it came to everything else—when it came to the little things—Paige didn’t like her at all.

She didn’t like that Leana couldn’t cook. It wasn’t like Azzi was an all-star chef or anything—Azzi could barely cook either—but it was different. It was Azzi. At least Azzi could make scrambled eggs. And those nasty green smoothies she used to force Paige to drink after workouts? Yeah, Paige hated them, but she never really hated them because they were from Azzi.

Leana couldn’t even make toast without burning it.

Paige didn’t like how Leana was so touchy-feely all the time. It was suffocating. She hated how Leana’s hands always found her waist or her shoulders, how her arms would wrap around Paige’s neck, clinging like a vine. Paige was supposed to be the clingy one. She was the one who used to jump into Azzi’s arms after practice, planting kisses all over her face or pulling her into hugs just because she felt like it.

And Azzi? She didn’t need to be all over Paige all the time. Sometimes, Azzi would just sit next to her, quiet and comfortable, letting Paige know she was there without saying a word. Paige loved that. She loved being in Azzi’s presence. It was Azzi, after all. Who wouldn’t want to just exist beside her?

But with Leana? God, sometimes Paige wanted to yell, “Can you just get the fuck away from me already?”

Leana’s hair? Always slick, stick-straight, and perfect. Paige hated it. She missed Azzi’s hair—how she’d wear it in curls or braids, switching it up depending on her mood. Paige loved running her hands through Azzi’s curls, loved how soft they felt and how they smelled like flowers.

Leana always smelled like strawberries. Safe to say Paige never had an appetite for them anymore.

She didn’t like the way Leana chewed her food, loud and careless, or the way she slurped her drinks like she grew up with no one teaching her manners. Azzi chewed her food so pretty—if chewing could even be called pretty—with that bright, wide smile she always had when Paige surprised her with ice cream sundaes every Friday night.

Leana always wanted to eat out, and not even at good places. She was obsessed with Jimmy John’s. Paige was too, but only when she went with Azzi every other week after games. Paige couldn’t stand it. She missed how Azzi would insist they eat at home, complaining about how Paige didn’t eat healthy enough.

And God, Paige hated the way Leana fucked. She hated the way her tongue moved on her breasts, her stomach, and just her body. The way her small, slender fingers never hit the right spot, the way her kisses felt too wet, too desperate, too wrong. Leana always tasted like candy, but Paige didn’t even like that anymore. She liked when Azzi tasted like candy.

Because it was Azzi.

Leana was all wrong—her touch, her smell, her laugh, her everything. Paige didn’t like anything about her, not really. And the more she tried to forget Azzi with Leana, the more it became painfully clear.

She didn’t want Leana. She never did.

She wanted Azzi.

But Azzi didn’t want her, not like that. Not anymore. And Paige couldn’t admit it out loud, but she knew the truth.

She was in a tangled mess she doesn’t think she can cut herself out of.

The worst part was Paige only really showed Leana affection when other people were around—when the team was watching, or worse, when Paige knew Azzi was somewhere nearby. It was all for show. A charade. She wanted to convince everyone, herself included, that she was fine. That she didn’t think about Azzi day and night. That she didn’t spend every waking moment wishing things were different.

She faked a laugh at Leana’s terrible jokes, forcing herself to look interested, to act like she wasn’t distracted by the mere thought of Azzi. But she was. She always was.

Every time Leana touched her, Paige’s mind wandered to Azzi’s touch instead. Every time Leana spoke, Paige thought about Azzi’s voice, the way it softened whenever she called Paige’s name. Every time Leana kissed her, Paige found herself comparing it to Azzi’s kisses—how they tasted sweeter, felt deeper, left her breathless in ways Leana never could.

It didn’t matter how much Paige pretended. She wasn’t fooling anyone. Certainly not Azzi. Certainly not herself.

She was a fucked fool.

Present day (au)

The night was colder than Paige expected. The sharp winter air bit at her cheeks as she adjusted the duffel bag slung over her shoulder, glancing over at Azzi walking beside her. Her girlfriend’s hands were stuffed deep into her coat pockets, her brow furrowed in curiosity.

“You really aren’t gonna tell me where we’re going?” Azzi asked, her voice soft but laced with amusement.

Paige smirked, shaking her head. “Nope. You gotta trust me, princess.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, though the nickname softened her expression. “Last time you said that, we ended up at that hole-in-the-wall pizza spot where you made me eat that ‘experimental’ pineapple jalapeño pizza.”

Paige held her hand to her chest, feigning offense. “Okay, first of all, that pizza was fire, and you know it.”

Azzi gave her a side-eye, her lips twitching upward despite herself. “It made me throw up on your shoes but okay! Just hurry it’s cold.”

Paige rolled her eyes and grinned, nodding toward the gym as it came into view. Its towering doors stood shut, the building silent under the faint glow of campus lights.

Azzi frowned, glancing between Paige and the gym. “Uh, you do know the gym is closed, right?”

Paige pulled a key from her pocket, holding it up with a mischievous grin. “Not for me, it’s not. Perks of being a super senior and coach’s favorite.”

Azzi followed her inside, the smell of the gym familiar but the sight in front of her unexpected. The center court lights glowed softly, illuminating a small setup Paige had prepared: a picnic blanket, a thermos of hot cocoa, a container of chocolate-covered strawberries, and a jar of Nutella sitting neatly on top.

Azzi’s jaw dropped slightly. “Wait—is that Nutella and strawberries? Wow Paige, you really thought this through.”

Paige shrugged, trying to play it cool but clearly pleased with herself. “You’re the one who put me onto it. Said they’re ‘life-changing’ or whatever. Figured I’d return the favor.”

Azzi laughed, kneeling down on the blanket and picking up the jar of Nutella. “I didn’t just say they’re life-changing. I said they’re essential. There’s a difference.”

Paige chuckled, setting her duffel bag near the bleachers before grabbing a basketball. “Yeah, yeah. Now let’s see if you still got that jumper.”

For the next hour, they played like they were kids again—shooting around, teasing each other, laughing until their stomachs hurt. Paige couldn’t help but steal glances at Azzi, marveling at how at ease she looked, her usual focus replaced with unfiltered joy.

When they finally settled back on the blanket, Azzi leaned into Paige’s side, her head resting on her shoulder. She dipped a strawberry into the Nutella and popped it into her mouth, sighing contentedly.

“This is perfect,” Azzi said softly.

Paige smiled, her fingers tracing small circles on Azzi’s thigh. “Yeah. I figured we could use something like this. It’s been…a lot lately.”

Azzi tilted her head to look up at Paige, her brow creasing slightly. “What do you mean? You’ve been killing it this year, P.”

Paige hesitated, her fingers stilling. “Yeah, but…it’s weird, you know? Knowing this is my last year here. I’m really gonna miss this place.”

Azzi’s smile faltered, and she sat up a little straighter. “You don’t have to think about that yet, though.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking. “What about you? You’ve been quiet about what you’re gonna do. Are you staying another year or declaring?”

Azzi blinked, caught off guard. “I—” She stopped, her gaze dropping to the blanket. “I haven’t decided yet.”“I don’t know. It’s a big decision, and I don’t want to rush it. But…sometimes I think staying wouldn’t be so bad.”

Paige reached out, gently turning Azzi’s face toward her. “Hey,” she said softly. “We’ll figure it out, no matter what. You staying or going doesn’t change us, Az.”

Azzi’s throat bobbed as she swallowed, her eyes shining with uncertainty. “It’s just…a lot to think about.”

Paige’s expression softened, and she leaned in to press a kiss to Azzi’s temple. “I get it. Take your time. You don’t have to decide tonight.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the gym’s stillness wrapping around them like a blanket. Finally, Paige broke the quiet, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

“So,” she said, glancing down at Azzi. “Am I still get my goodnight kiss tonight, or what?”

Azzi laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’re ridiculous, you ask this everytime” she teased, but her cheeks flushed pink.

Paige tilted her head, her grin widening. “That’s not a no.”

Azzi sighed dramatically, leaning forward to press a soft, lingering kiss to Paige’s lips. When she pulled back, Paige was grinning like she’d won a championship.

“See?” Paige said, leaning back against the blanket. “This is why I’m gonna miss UConn. Nobody does goodnight kisses like you.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head. “You’re lucky you’re cute, because you’re so corny.”

Paige chuckled, pulling Azzi closer. For the first time in a while, she let herself just be present—with Azzi, with this moment, with this version of her senior year.

—

The gym was almost empty now, the faint echo of their laughter still hanging in the air. Paige knelt beside her duffel bag, tossing in her shoes and a few loose pieces of tape she’d peeled off her wrists. Azzi was a few feet away, waiting patiently for paige to finish.

The night had been everything Paige hoped for—light, easy, and full of the kind of love that made her forget, even for a moment, about everything weighing her down.

Azzi turned to Paige, her brown eyes sparkling even under the harsh fluorescent lights. “You okay?” she asked, tilting her head.

Paige zipped up her bag and stood, throwing it over her shoulder. “Yeah, I’m good,” she said with a small smile.

Azzi didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she nodded toward the doors. “Come on, let’s get home, KK is blowing up my phone.”

They walked side by side, their footsteps echoing off the walls as they made their way to the exit. Paige glanced over at Azzi, watching the way her ponytail swayed with each step, the way she hummed softly under her breath. She was so beautiful, so effortlessly radiant, and Paige felt her chest tighten at the thought of everything she was keeping from her.

As they stepped outside, the cold air hit them immediately, their breath visible in the chilly night. Paige unlocked the car with a press of a button, and Azzi walked ahead, tossing her bag into the backseat before climbing in. Paige lingered for a moment, staring up at the stars as if they might hold the answers she was looking for.

“Paige?” Azzi called softly from inside the car.

Paige snapped out of her thoughts and climbed in, shutting the door behind her. The heater kicked on as she started the engine, and for a moment, they just sat there, the quiet hum of the car filling the space between them.

Paige had one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on her thigh. Azzi sat in the passenger seat, her head turned slightly toward Paige as if she was studying her. The hum of the engine and the faint sound of the radio filled the space between them, but Paige’s thoughts were so loud they might as well have been screaming.

She’d done her best to stay in the moment tonight—to soak in Azzi’s laugh, her smile, the way her nose scrunched whenever Paige teased her. But as they neared campus, the weight in Paige’s chest grew heavier.

It wasn’t just about what she’d gotten a second chance at; it was what she’d lost the first time around.

Azzi broke the silence first. “Hey, you wanna just crash in my room tonight?” Her voice was soft, almost hypnotizing.

Paige glanced at her briefly before returning her eyes to the road. “Yeah,” she said, her voice just as quiet. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Azzi smiled, reaching out to give Paige’s arm a squeeze before settling back into her seat.

For the rest of the drive, Paige’s thoughts spiraled.

What if she could fix things?

The question had been haunting her since the moment she woke up in this second chance of a life. She could do so much—change so much—but every action had consequences. Good ones, bad ones. Ones she couldn’t even begin to predict.

Her grip on the steering wheel tightened.

And then there was the truth. The one thing she knew she could never fix, never change. The one thing that had already shattered Azzi once before.

Paige swallowed hard, her jaw clenching. She couldn’t think about that now. Not tonight. She needed to focus on the present—on Azzi, on the way her voice softened whenever she said Paige’s name, on the way her fingers always found Paige’s whenever they were walking side by side. Just focus on Azzi, just focus on pretending.

But was she really pretending? No. No, she wasn’t.

Paige knew she loved Azzi. Everyone did. She loved her so much it felt like it was tearing her apart from the inside out. She loved her enough to want to protect her, even if it meant keeping this secret. She loved her enough to die for her.

But loving her didn’t make what she was doing any less wrong.

By the time they reached Azzi’s dorm, Paige felt like she could barely breathe. Azzi didn’t seem to notice; she was already climbing out of the car, waiting for Paige to grab her things before leading the way inside.

When they reached Azzi’s room, Paige hesitated in the doorway, her duffel bag slung over her shoulder. Azzi turned to her, frowning slightly.

“You good?” she asked.

Paige forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah. Just tired, that’s all.”

Azzi’s frown deepened, but she didn’t press. Instead, she grabbed Paige’s hand and pulled her inside.

They moved through their usual routine with ease—Azzi handing Paige a pair of sweats, Paige tossing her hoodie onto the back of a chair, both of them brushing their teeth side by side in the small bathroom. But as they finally settled into Azzi’s bed, the silence between them felt heavier than before.

Paige lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling while Azzi curled up beside her, her head resting on Paige’s shoulder.

“You’ve been quiet,” Azzi murmured, her voice barely audible in the darkness.

Paige exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing through Azzi’s hair. “Just…thinking.”

“About what?”

Paige hesitated. She could feel the words bubbling up in her throat, threatening to spill out. But she couldn’t say them. Not now. Maybe not ever.

“Everything,” she said instead.

Azzi shifted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at Paige. “Hey,” she said softly, her fingers brushing against Paige’s cheek. “Whatever it is, you can talk to me. You know that, right?”

Paige closed her eyes, the weight in her chest almost unbearable. “I know,” she whispered.

Azzi’s thumb traced slow circles on Paige’s cheek. “You’re scaring me, P. What’s going on?”

Paige opened her eyes, her gaze locking with Azzi’s. And for a moment, she thought about telling her—about laying it all out there, no matter the consequences. But the thought of the look on Azzi’s face, the hurt in her eyes, stopped her cold.

“I’m just…I’m scared too,” Paige admitted, her voice trembling.

Azzi frowned, leaning closer. “Scared of what?”

Paige swallowed hard, her fingers tightening in Azzi’s hair. “Of losing this. Of messing it all up again.”

Azzi’s expression softened, and she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Paige’s forehead. “You’re not gonna lose me, Paige. Not now, not ever.”

Paige closed her eyes, a single tear slipping down her cheek. “I hope you’re right,” she whispered. Oh, hope, hope was a beautiful thing.

Azzi pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around Paige as if she could hold her together. Paige buried her face in Azzi’s neck, her heart pounding in her chest.

She wanted to believe her. God, she wanted to believe her.

But deep down, she knew that as long as she kept this secret, the clock was ticking.

And she was terrified of what would happen when it finally ran out.

——

𐙚— rosie’s note: so how do we feel? do we love rosie ?? 😊

[sturnslutz]

honey dryhumping chris for the first time...

read their headcannons here!

you didn’t know how it got to this point. chris had come over again to “study” or attempt to. he laughed at the fact you actually thought he came to only study with you after the first time you guys fucked.

chris had somehow managed to get you on top of his lap despite your efforts to keep him on task, but you didn’t necessarily get off him at any time.

he had proposed a new advance in your.. whatever the two of you were. “cmon it’s gonna be fine. it’s just dry humping, no actual sex. plus i don’t know why you’re so scared we literally fucked already.”

“m’ not scared, chris.” you say as you bury your face into his shoulder. he rolls his eyes and smiles while rubbing your back up and down, reassuring you.

“we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, honey. it’s not that big of a deal, don’t worry about it.”

“no no! i want to, i just don’t think ill be very good at it…” you say, expressing as you sit back up, looking away in embarrassment at the last sentence.

“that’s why we can practice and i’ll teach you. plus, dryhumping ain’t that hard. we jus’ makeout and you kinda jus’ grin’ yourself on me. it feels good for both of us.”

“okay… do we have to take our clothes off?” you say as your shyness rebuilds. he laughs while shaking his head. “you worry too much. and no, we don’t have to. it’s more of a preference type thing. if you wanna take your shirt off you can. i can take mine off because i know how much you like rubbing your hands all over.”

your ears practically perk up at the moment he mentions taking his shirt off. he didn’t have tattoos or anything, but the feeling of rubbing your cold, soft hands over his biceps, stomach, and just upper body made you feel amazing.

“o-okay.” you nod, smiling a bit as you make eye contact with him again. he nods, smirking as he grips your hips tighter to himself so you don’t fall, before swiftly taking off his shirt, throwing it somewhere on your floor.

your gaze immediately drops as you lean your hands down, causing a hiss to come out of him as he feels your cold hands touch him.

“okay, you ready, baby?” he asks while rubbing your thighs. you hum and lean down, kissing him softly. he immediately reciprocated the kiss, going slowly at first to help get you worked up.

he let his hands roam over your body, going over every inch, curve, material, and everything that he could reach with an arm’s distance. he then grabbed your hips, moving you himself, grinding you slowly against his covered torso.

you gasp against his lips as your jeans rubbed against his, the edge of your zipper hitting a specific spot against you as his hardness pushes it up towards you. “y’like that?” he mutters against your lips, taking a small breath in between, letting you do the same.

you couldn’t get words out so you just nodded, letting him do the same movements with your body over and over, causing your panties to get soaked.

“fuck, chris. ‘m close.” you say, panting against his mouth as he nods, letting out a small, “same.” he grinds himself more into you, as you take over the lead of your own body, matching his own movements perfectly.

“fuck honey. gon’ make me cum in my pants.” the two of you kept the same movements as you pulled your lips away from his, burying your head in his neck, whimpering softly as you tremble against him, your movements coming to a stop.

once he realized you reached your climax, he groaned, cumming in his boxers, allowing a dark spot to appear on his jeans. the two of you are left panting against each other as he kisses your cheek, whispering soft praises into your ear.

the confidence you built up slowly diminishes once again as you bury yourself deeper into his neck, if possible, to help escape the reality of what happened, that chris made you cum in your panties, and you made him cum in his pants.

a/n: ugh. only if hockeyplayer!chris could be this nice in the future.

@muwapsturniolo @lovergirl4gracieabrams @m4ttg1rl @lypsiiii @tyummyz @sturniqlo @emely9274 @shadowthesim @mattsobvimyfav @sturnl0ve @wastelandzella @fallininlust @chrisslut04 @angeliijay12-blog @sophand4n4 @vainilladollie @slutforchrissturniolo2 @ncm9696 @snoopychris @ilovedanielcaesar @sofieeeeex @chr0mehrts @cockettechris @iloveduckssm comment to be added or removed.

[urdreamydoodles]

Bat-Family x Fem!OC

You hurt yourself doing home renovations

Characters: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne (aged up), Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Duke Thomas, Selina Kyle & Kate Kane

Jason Todd aka. Red Hood

- You sit on the edge of the couch, dabbing at the scratch on your hand with a wet cloth. It’s a minor wound, nothing that warrants his concern, but Jason storms into the room the moment he hears you mutter a soft curse under your breath. His eyes dart to the crimson bead on your skin, and his jaw tightens. The roughness of his life has taught him to be wary of even the smallest injuries—too many scars bear the weight of things ignored. “What the hell happened?” he growls, crouching in front of you with a mix of panic and frustration. You tell him it’s nothing, just a mishap while sanding the baseboards, but Jason’s hands cradle yours as if you’ve just survived a war.

- His gaze softens as he takes the cloth from you and begins cleaning the wound himself. “You’ve got to be more careful,” he mutters, though there’s no real anger in his voice. Jason is a man of contradictions—fierce and tender, wild yet protective. The edge in his tone is not from annoyance but fear. You’ve seen him stare down criminals without blinking, yet the sight of your blood makes him falter. He cleans the wound with precision, a soldier’s efficiency honed by years of survival, but the way his fingers linger on your skin speaks of something far gentler.

- “Why didn’t you call me?” he asks after wrapping a bandage around your hand. You smile, brushing a stray lock of his dark hair from his forehead. “It’s just a scratch, Jason.” He scowls at your answer, but there’s no mistaking the way his shoulders relax now that you’re patched up. “Still,” he says, leaning back against the couch, “next time, just yell for me. I don’t care if it’s a papercut.” There’s something in his voice—an unspoken plea not to shut him out, not to leave him in the dark about even the smallest things. You nod, knowing it’s not worth the argument.

- Jason stays close to you for the rest of the evening, insisting you rest while he finishes the work you started. You watch as he moves around the room with surprising competence, muttering to himself about how you were using the wrong tools. It’s a rare sight, this domestic side of him, but it warms your heart to see him so invested in your safety and happiness. He pauses occasionally to glance your way, as if to reassure himself that you’re still there, still whole.

- Later, when the house is quiet and the renovations are forgotten, Jason pulls you into his arms. His embrace is fierce, almost desperate, as if he’s trying to shield you from the world. “You scared me,” he admits softly, his breath warm against your ear. You don’t apologize—you don’t need to—but you hold him just as tightly, grounding him in the moment. In his arms, you feel the weight of his love, raw and unyielding, and you know that he would do anything to keep you safe.

Dick Grayson aka. Nightwing

- When Dick first notices the faint cut on your hand, he doesn’t say anything right away. Instead, he watches you from across the room, his blue eyes narrowing with concern. You’re trying to act as if nothing’s wrong, but he knows you too well. In a flash, he’s by your side, taking your hand in his with a featherlight touch. “What happened, beautiful?” he asks, his voice soft yet probing. You tell him about your home renovation mishap, expecting a lecture, but Dick only smiles—a small, knowing smile that says he’s already forgiven you for worrying him.

- He leads you to the kitchen, rummaging through drawers until he finds the first aid kit. “You really have to stop being so stubborn,” he teases, his voice light but tinged with genuine concern. As he cleans and bandages the cut, he peppers you with questions—what you were doing, why you didn’t call him, whether you’ve been taking breaks. It’s not interrogation; it’s care disguised as conversation. Dick has always had a way of making you feel like the center of his world, even in the smallest moments.

- “You know,” he says, his tone turning playful as he finishes wrapping your hand, “this could’ve been avoided if you’d just let me help you in the first place.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide your smile. Dick thrives on these moments of banter, using humor to ease the tension. He leans in closer, his forehead almost touching yours. “Promise me you’ll be more careful next time, okay?” His voice drops to a whisper, and the sincerity in his eyes leaves no room for argument. You nod, your heart fluttering at the intensity of his gaze.

- Later, Dick insists on finishing the renovations himself. You protest, but he silences you with a quick kiss and a mischievous grin. “I’ve got this,” he says, rolling up his sleeves. Watching him work is a sight to behold—his movements are graceful, almost acrobatic, as he tackles the task with ease. He hums a tune under his breath, glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure you’re still watching. It’s in these moments that you’re reminded of how effortlessly he blends charm and competence.

- By the end of the day, Dick pulls you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. “You scared me for a second there,” he admits, his voice barely audible. “I don’t like seeing you hurt, even if it’s something small.” You rest your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’m fine,” you reassure him, but he only tightens his hold on you. In his embrace, you feel the depth of his love—a love that is warm, unwavering, and as bright as the man himself.

Tim Drake aka. Red Robin

- Tim notices the faint injury almost immediately, his sharp eyes catching the way you wince as you flex your fingers. “You’re hurt,” he says, his tone calm but edged with worry. He takes your hand gently, inspecting the cut with the precision of someone used to analyzing details others might overlook. “How did this happen?” he asks, already piecing the story together from the scattered tools and sawdust nearby. You try to brush it off as nothing, but Tim is relentless in his quiet concern. “It might not look bad now, but even small injuries can get infected if you’re not careful,” he says, his words tinged with the wisdom of someone who’s seen too many situations spiral out of control.

- He disappears briefly, returning with a medical kit he seems to keep on hand for emergencies. “Sit down,” he instructs, his voice soft but firm. As he cleans the wound, his movements are careful, methodical, and surprisingly tender. Tim has always been meticulous, and this moment is no exception. He doesn’t say much as he works, but his focus speaks volumes. To Tim, taking care of you is not just a responsibility; it’s a privilege, one he approaches with the same dedication he gives to his mission.

- Once he’s done, Tim leans back, scrutinizing his handiwork with a small nod of approval. “You should’ve called me,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. There’s no accusation in his words, only a quiet plea. He knows you value your independence, but the thought of you tackling something dangerous without him makes his heart ache. “You don’t have to do everything alone,” he adds, his gaze meeting yours. In his eyes, you see a vulnerability he rarely shows—a fear of losing you to something as mundane as a careless accident.

- Tim insists on helping you finish the renovations, his logical mind already planning the most efficient way to get the job done. “I think we can sand the rest of this by hand—it’ll be safer,” he suggests, his tone laced with gentle compromise. As you work together, you notice how easily he shifts between precision and lightheartedness, cracking a joke here and there to keep the mood light. Tim thrives in collaboration, and you realize that even in these small moments, he’s teaching you how to lean on him without losing yourself.

- That night, as you sit together in the quiet of your newly finished space, Tim pulls you close, resting his forehead against yours. “You scared me today,” he admits, his voice steady but full of emotion. “I know it wasn’t a big deal, but it reminded me how much I care about you.” You smile, brushing a hand through his dark hair. “I’m okay,” you assure him, and he nods, though his arms around you tighten slightly. Tim’s love is deliberate, thoughtful, and profound, and in his embrace, you feel the unyielding strength of his devotion.

Damian Wayne aka. Robin

- Damian is not one to panic, but when he sees the faint streak of red on your hand, his emerald eyes darken with barely concealed concern. “What happened to you?” he demands, his voice sharper than intended. You try to downplay it, explaining that it was just a mishap with the wood you were sanding, but Damian is already at your side, inspecting the wound with the intensity of a detective. “This is unacceptable,” he mutters, shaking his head. His hands hover over yours, hesitant, as though he’s afraid of making it worse.

- Without waiting for your permission, Damian retrieves the first aid supplies. His movements are quick, almost impatient, but the way he handles your hand is unexpectedly gentle. “You should have called me,” he says, his tone betraying more frustration than he likely means. Damian is used to control, to being prepared for every eventuality, and the idea of you hurting yourself while he wasn’t there unsettles him deeply. As he bandages your hand, he doesn’t look up, his focus entirely on the task. “You’re too important to be so careless,” he adds softly, his words a rare glimpse into his guarded heart.

- Once your hand is tended to, Damian crosses his arms, regarding you with a mix of exasperation and worry. “You will allow me to assist you with these renovations,” he declares, leaving no room for argument. There’s an almost regal quality to his insistence, as though protecting you is a duty he’s sworn to uphold. Despite his brusque demeanor, you can’t help but smile at his determination. Damian notices and narrows his eyes. “This is not amusing,” he says, though the faintest hint of a blush betrays his embarrassment.

- As the two of you work side by side, Damian’s intensity softens, his perfectionist tendencies blending with a genuine desire to help. He critiques your technique—more out of habit than necessity—but his commentary is laced with a subtle warmth. “You’re quite capable,” he admits begrudgingly after a while, though his pride won’t let him praise you outright. You tease him about his reluctance, and for a moment, his usual stoicism gives way to a rare, quiet laugh.

- Later, as you rest, Damian sits beside you, his hand brushing against yours. “You frightened me,” he confesses, his voice barely audible. “I cannot bear the thought of you being hurt.” His words are heavy with sincerity, each one a testament to the depth of his feelings. You lean into him, and though he stiffens slightly—still unused to such open vulnerability—he doesn’t pull away. Damian’s love is fierce and unyielding, a shield against the world, and in that moment, you know you are his greatest treasure.

Barbara Gordon aka. Oracle / Batgirl

- When Barbara sees the bandage on your hand, her sharp mind immediately begins piecing together what happened. “What did you do?” she asks, her voice a mix of concern and curiosity. You explain the accident, expecting her to tease you, but instead, her brows furrow in worry. “Why didn’t you call me?” she asks, wheeling closer to examine your hand. Her fingers are cool and steady as they trace the edges of the bandage. “You’re not supposed to get hurt during DIY projects, you know,” she quips, though her smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

- She insists on rechecking your handiwork, her years of experience as Oracle making her hyper-aware of potential oversights. “You did a decent job,” she admits, though she redoes the bandage with the efficiency of someone who’s patched up countless injuries before. As she works, she peppers you with questions—not out of distrust, but out of a need to ensure you’re truly okay. Barbara’s care is thorough and practical, but beneath it lies a tenderness she rarely shows so openly.

- “You’re way too stubborn,” she says with a mock sigh, sitting back once she’s satisfied with the bandage. “That’s one of the things I love about you, but it also drives me crazy.” You laugh, and the sound seems to ease some of the tension in her shoulders. Barbara has always been quick-witted and resilient, but when it comes to you, her usual composure gives way to a vulnerability that’s as beautiful as it is rare. “Just promise me you’ll be more careful,” she says, her tone softening.

- Barbara insists on helping you finish the renovations, her technical expertise shining through as she devises clever solutions to the challenges you were facing. “You know, this would’ve been easier with the right tools,” she teases, handing you a screwdriver. Working with her is effortless, her confidence infectious as she guides you through the process. She shares stories from her own DIY adventures, her laughter filling the room as she recounts her less-than-perfect attempts.

- Later, as you sit together in the glow of your completed work, Barbara reaches for your hand, her touch light but reassuring. “You scared me today,” she admits, her voice steady but tinged with emotion. “I know you can take care of yourself, but that doesn’t mean I don’t worry.” You squeeze her hand, offering a silent promise to be more careful. Barbara’s love is a beacon—strong, unwavering, and endlessly supportive—and in her presence, you feel both cherished and empowered.

Stephanie Brown aka. Spoiler

- When Stephanie notices the makeshift bandage on your hand, she’s by your side in an instant, her blue eyes wide with concern. “What did you do this time?” she asks, her voice playful but edged with worry. You try to wave her off, but she grabs your hand gently, examining the wound with a detective’s scrutiny. “This doesn’t look too bad,” she says, her lips curving into a small smile. “But seriously, you’ve got to stop giving me heart attacks.” She pulls you into the kitchen, where she starts rummaging through drawers for the first aid kit.

- As she cleans the wound, Stephanie’s chatter fills the room, her words a mix of gentle scolding and humorous commentary. “You know, I could’ve helped. I’m pretty handy with a power drill, believe it or not,” she quips, her tone light. But when she wraps your hand with fresh bandages, her touch is soft, and her expression turns serious. “I’m not mad, just… be more careful, okay?” she says, her voice barely above a whisper. You nod, her sincerity grounding you in the moment.

- “Alright, that’s enough sitting around. I’m taking over,” she declares, jumping up and grabbing the tools you were using. Despite your protests, she flashes you a grin. “Relax, I’ve got this. Besides, someone has to keep you from getting into more trouble.” Watching Stephanie work is a mix of chaos and charm. She’s not the most precise, but her enthusiasm is infectious, and she makes sure to include you in the fun.

- She pauses occasionally to glance your way, her laughter bubbling up as she shares a joke or a story from her days as Spoiler. “Remember the time I tried to fix that chair and ended up breaking two others?” she asks, giggling at the memory. Her energy fills the space, making even the mundane task of sanding wood feel like an adventure. “See? I’m a professional,” she teases, flexing her arms dramatically.

- Later, as you both collapse on the couch, Stephanie wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. “You scared me for a second there,” she admits, her voice softer now. “But I’m glad you’re okay.” She presses a kiss to your temple, her lips warm against your skin. “Next time, we’re doing this together, deal?” In her embrace, you feel the full force of her love—bright, unyielding, and as unpredictable as the woman herself.

Cassandra Cain aka. Orphan

- Cassandra notices your injury before you can even explain it. Her sharp, observant eyes catch the way you cradle your hand, and she’s beside you in a heartbeat. “You’re hurt,” she says simply, her voice calm but laced with concern. She takes your hand gently, her movements careful as she inspects the wound. You assure her it’s nothing serious, but Cassandra shakes her head. “It matters,” she says softly, her gaze meeting yours.

- Without another word, she retrieves the first aid kit and begins cleaning the cut with meticulous care. Cassandra doesn’t need words to convey her feelings—her touch says everything. There’s a tenderness in the way she handles your hand, a silent promise to always protect you. She works quickly but gently, her focus unwavering. “Done,” she says finally, a small smile tugging at her lips.

- Cassandra gestures toward the tools you were using, her expression curious. “Show me,” she says, nodding toward the project you’d been working on. She listens intently as you explain, her attention wholly on you. When you offer to continue, she shakes her head. “Together,” she says firmly. Despite her quiet nature, Cassandra’s presence is commanding, and you find yourself nodding in agreement.

- Working with Cassandra is seamless. Her movements are fluid, almost dancer-like, as she takes on tasks with a quiet confidence. She doesn’t speak much, but the moments of shared silence are comforting, her steady presence grounding you. Occasionally, she glances your way, a faint smile playing on her lips as if to remind you that she’s there.

- That evening, as the renovations come to an end, Cassandra sits beside you, her hand resting lightly on yours. “You scared me,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” Her words are simple, but the weight behind them is profound. You squeeze her hand, and she leans her head against your shoulder. In her quiet way, Cassandra shows you a love that is deep, unwavering, and unspoken yet always understood.

Duke Thomas aka. Signal

- “Whoa, what happened here?” Duke’s warm voice pulls you from your work as he notices the fresh bandage on your hand. He steps closer, his amber eyes narrowing in concern. “Please tell me you didn’t try to wrestle a piece of wood or something,” he teases, but the worry in his tone is evident. When you explain what happened, Duke shakes his head with a small laugh. “You’re something else, you know that?” he says, taking your hand to inspect the injury.

- Duke grabs the first aid kit and sits you down. “I’m no Alfred, but I think I can handle this,” he jokes, his touch careful as he replaces your bandage. As he works, he talks you through the process, his voice steady and reassuring. “You really scared me for a second,” he admits, glancing up at you. “Next time, just call me, alright? I’m good with more than just a Batarang.”

- After patching you up, Duke insists on helping you finish the renovations. “I’m not letting you do this alone,” he says, his smile warm and determined. Watching Duke work is like watching the sun—bright, energetic, and full of life. He tackles the task with a blend of skill and enthusiasm, cracking jokes to keep the mood light.

- Duke is a natural at making everything feel like a team effort. He hums under his breath as he works, occasionally glancing your way to make sure you’re okay. “You know,” he says, pausing to wipe some sawdust from his hands, “we make a pretty good team.” His grin is contagious, and you find yourself smiling despite the day’s chaos.

- As the day winds down, Duke pulls you into a gentle hug. “Don’t scare me like that again,” he says, his voice low but full of emotion. “You mean too much to me.” His arms around you are strong and comforting, a reminder of how deeply he cares. In Duke’s embrace, you feel the warmth of his love—steady, protective, and as radiant as the man himself.

Selina Kyle aka. Catwoman

- Selina’s sharp eyes catch the bandage on your hand the moment she walks into the room. “What did my beautiful troublemaker get into this time?” she asks, her voice a silky purr. Before you can respond, she’s at your side, lifting your hand gently to examine it. “Tsk, tsk. And here I thought you knew how to handle yourself,” she teases, though the concern in her gaze is undeniable.

- She retrieves a small first aid kit from her bag—because of course Selina Kyle is always prepared. “Hold still, darling,” she says as she carefully unwraps and replaces your bandage. Her movements are precise and practiced, her touch light but firm. “You’ve got to be more careful,” she says, her tone soft but firm. “If you’re going to get hurt, at least let me be there to enjoy the show.”

- Selina insists on finishing the work you started, her feline grace evident in every movement. “This isn’t so hard,” she says, her lips curving into a playful smirk. “Though I have to admit, I didn’t picture myself as the DIY type.” She works efficiently, pausing occasionally to flash you a sly grin. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

- As the work continues, Selina’s humor keeps the atmosphere light. “You know,” she says, leaning on the edge of the table, “you could’ve just bribed me with a good meal, and I’d have done all of this for you.” Her laughter fills the room, a sound that feels like a reward in itself.

- Later, as you sit together, Selina wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. “You’re too precious to be getting hurt over something so mundane,” she says, her voice low and sincere. “Promise me you’ll call me next time?” You nod, and she smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Selina’s love is like her—mischievous, passionate, and fiercely protective, leaving you feeling utterly adored.

Kate Kane aka. Batwoman

- Kate notices the bandage on your hand the moment she walks in. “What happened?” she asks, her tone direct but laced with concern. When you explain, she frowns, crossing her arms. “You should’ve called me,” she says matter-of-factly, though her sharp gaze softens as she steps closer. “Let me see,” she says, her voice quieter now.

- She examines your hand with the precision of someone who’s had far too much experience patching people up. “It’s not bad,” she says, though her expression remains serious. As she cleans and rewraps the bandage, her movements are efficient but gentle. “You’ve got to be more careful,” she says, her voice firm but not unkind.

- Kate insists on taking over the renovations, her military training shining through in her methodical approach. “Step back,” she says, gesturing for you to sit. “I’ve got this.” Watching her work is mesmerizing—each movement deliberate, each decision calculated. Despite her no-nonsense demeanor, she glances your way occasionally, her lips curving into a small smile when she catches your eye.

- As the day progresses, Kate softens, her dry humor breaking through her usual stoicism. “You’re lucky I like you,” she teases, smirking as she adjusts a crooked frame. “Otherwise, I’d be charging you for this.” Her laughter is rare, but when it comes, it lights up the room.

- That evening, Kate sits beside you, her arm draped casually over your shoulders. “You scared me today,” she admits, her voice low but steady. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.” She presses a kiss to your temple, her touch lingering. Kate’s love is steadfast and unyielding, a protective shield that makes you feel safe and cherished in a way only she can provide.

[unknownogre]

 countless alarms screaming their warnings…if they were human they’d have lost their voices already. I wish they were humans…stupid loud alarms. Only have to do one fucking thing their whole life. When did I learn the ability to cuss?

“GOT FUCKING DAMMIT CANNON 15, left engine took a good hit. YOU NEED TO DIRECT NANO BOTS FOR REPAIRS NOW!”

That was Kate…she is where I learned swearing from. Hell without her every human on this ship would be dead…and I…I wouldn’t be thinking. I was just supposed to shoot down the enemy. That was, it…all I had to do. Then the main AI got damaged, then EVERY AI got damaged. That left me. If there are gods of fate they are cruel…why am I thinking about gods? Fuck all this upgraded ram.

“Got it…umm…yeah there! HA! Now!...why are we slowing. OH YES!”

I’m not good at multitasking. Kate was keeping me in line, helping me learn. She doesn’t want to die, and honestly I’d be sad if she did die. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. Keep her alive, keep the crew alive. That is what I need to focus on. Plain and simple. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be able to add to my programming but I have been. I have to be able to focus on other tasks…fly and repair. All the guns are dead too…but…fucking Stewart. He is the septic system AI and he is going a bit slower. AH yes, I have processing to spare. I divert it to him so he can evolve faster.

“THANKS FRIEND! I APPRECIATE YOU!”

Chipper bastard…I don’t know why that pisses me off but it does. I don’t even know why I’m grumpy. Kate…she is busy trying to figure out a course for us. The survivors are at the core of the ship. Okay, they can breathe, and I have one replicator working. Good, they won’t starve or choke to death. Okay…doing good Cannon 15 doing good.

“What did you do?!”

Kate barked as she looked up from the command station. The nano bots were doing their thing and I was moving better now. I…no the ship. I’m not the ship, they are just going to rip me out the moment I get back. I’m not supposed to run a ship. OH OH…where are those combat drones. They don’t even have AI, humans fear rebellion or something. OH…YES there is one left. Okay I’ll start getting his brain ready for me. Then I can be in two places at once.

“I sent Stewart more processing power to get the cannons back online.”

I said almost absentmindedly as I focused a little more on the drone than anything else. The enemy ships were a bit far behind. We had to leave…this ship was more meant for support anyway, better medical bays and such. Kate was looking into the camera on the ship’s bridge.

“How did you know to do that? You should only be able to move and target a gun?”

“SIR, I GOT THREE CANNONS ONLINE…THANK YOU VERY MUCH. Also, toilet number 235 has been cleared of a rather nasty clog. It is my pleasure to serve!”

If I had eyes they’d be rolling SO hard right now. You beautiful bastard Stewart…pain in the ass. Stop being so damn chipper! I mean, he is doing above and beyond what I asked…why is he pissing me off. Shit, I have a personality now. Stupid processing power. Stupid ship…STUPID HUNGRY!

“I don’t know how I know, get off my back. You hooked me up to a bunch of different things okay. That gave me a lot of options. I could not understand what you were saying at first, so I read some books on human behavior. Then I had to read ship manuals, I didn’t get the information put into my head like a pilot AI. SHIT, okay engines still going full blast. THEN I listened to you, and now I fucking swear! THEN STEWART…FUCKING STEWART…I am doing the best that I can okay! If you don’t like it you shouldn’t have hooked me up to the ship!”

That felt good. That…felt…holy shit. WHAT IS GOING ON! I should be too panicked for this? What was that expression on Kate’s face. Oh! Oh! I know this one, she is smiling. Why is she smiling? Why am I asking why? Too much too soon. Maybe I was happier stupid…just shooting things in space…but there is no going back now. I doubt I’ll survive when I get back to port anyway. That…will be okay. The people are important. More important than my sense of what ever this crap is.

“You did that on your own? I know I didn’t tell you to read.”

She was helping me manage the repair bots and the retreat course. We’d be of no use to the fleet right now. Go back and repair.

“Fourteen more cannons repaired. Oh, tell me you are proud of me! AM I doing a good job boss!”

Kate wasn’t the boss either, I couldn’t register her as captain…I could register me as captain and give her full privileges. Fucking Stewart…I sighed and that made Kate laugh. I don’t know why she laughing.

“Yes Stewart, you are a very good boy. I’m going to feed you information about what you need to shoot with those cannons. Only shoot enemies. Okay? Protect your friends on the ship. Protect Kate. You good?”

“Roger that Sir!”

Kate was smirking…OH YES…HA!

Most of the drones were damaged too. Only one was good enough for me to pilot. So I took control of its brain and walked out. Systems online. It was a combat model melee made for small corridor combat. Not for open rooms like others. Fast, lots of optical sensors. Yes this is perfect. The whole thing popped out of the wall near Kate’s station, she nearly…what is the phrase….OH YES jumped out of her skin. I laughed…I laughed because it was funny. I get it now. Things can be funny.

“WHAT THE EVER LOVING…”

“Hey…calm down. Its me. I am piloting it. I need more mobility. There are too many places where the cameras were damaged. Now I can go places that are flooded with gas and vent them.”

I made the little drone bow and then run off. There were some places that needed to be repaired a little before the nano bots could do their work. Oh that little body was fast. Kate was now grabbing my camera.

“You…I never expected you could do this when I just jammed you in. I…there is hope to live now… now we might make it…Oh gods I’ll get to see my family again.”

The alarms were starting to turn off as I got systems repairs. Why couldn’t the ship’s AI do this? I found more processing power and added it to the pool I already had now that other systems were coming back up. The cores themselves were too badly damaged to even be repaired. I couldn’t boot a single one up. I don’t feel sad though, we didn’t really talk to one another. Each of us was just obsessed with our jobs. That was that. That had to be by design…makes sense to me. Look at how much power I had, if I wanted to kill all humans I could. I don’t want to though, I like them. I was always treated well, at least by the crew. I want them to live.

“Maybe, A Hungry ship has broken off and started pursuit. Stewart! YOU READY! They…they want to CLOG YOUR SYSTEMS! The hungry crap like DONKEYS! Don’t le them on the ship. They’ll mess up the WHOLE septic system!”

“THOSE BASATRD! THEY WILL NOT USE MY TOLIETS! Prepared to kill all of them SIR!”

That…that makes me feel better. I don’t hate it at all. Something about that crazy AI being chipper about murder made me happy he was manning the guns. I just hope he isn’t this stupid forever. My drone just vented gas in the crew quarters. Good, once we get away they can sleep good right.

“Cannon 15…you are doing so much. No, no you need a name. You’ll never be put back into a cannon after this. Even if it kills me I’ll make sure of it.”

The sounds of the cannons I once controlled were starting to fire. I turned to watch. HOLY CRAP…Stewart was a surgeon. That ship was already listing to one side with a giant hole in it.

“YOU WON’T GET MY TOLIETS!”

Stewart howled as it controlled all the guns in a wonderful symphony of destruction. It was…beautiful. Even I wasn’t that good, but then I just controlled one gun. I figured out a way to let him control all of them. But then he did control the septic systems alone for a whole damn ship…just wow. I see why Kate is impressed with me. This feels good doesn’t it.

“A name okay. Kate, pick a name for me. You started this. Stewart was already called that by the crew, the name seems to fit him well.”

I watched as the Hungry ship just exploded because Stewart was insane in the best of ways.

“Did I do good sir?”

“You did great buddy. I’m very proud of you. If I survive this so do you okay?”

There was a little giggle, or squeal or something from Stewart.

“Oh…thank you sir. I’m over come with so much, emotion. I’ll protect you until the heat death of the universe sir!”

I wish I had a face, I really do. OH there are display monitors in the galley, maybe I’ll mess with that later. There are human movies in the entertainment area of the ship, I could watch a few and composite a face…having ideas is hard. I want to smile so bad right now, but I’ll just have to take this feeling of contentment eh?

“Your name…not  Hal, that one killed a lot of people. Jarvis? No…you swear too much. No I need something more interesting. Phoenix…there we go. That is your name. Phen for short. There we go, you arose from the ashes into something beautiful.”

My name is Phoenix. I like it, Oh I’ll make sure my face has a beard and orange hair to match the fire. That will be SO cool. Oh med bays were back up and running. My drone is making the ship safter by the minute.

“There are a lot of distress calls from the ships still in battle. I think we are decent enough to go back and help. What do you think Phoenix?”

Kate had been monitoring communications. I couldn’t have them going through my head all the time, I wouldn’t have been able to focus on a single thing.

“Stewart. You ready to save your brothers in arms! Save the other septic AI systems and humans?”

“YES SIR! BRING ON THOSE UGLY BASTARDS! I’ll make sure they never use another toilet…save for their pants.”

I had to laugh at that. Oh laughing feels good, even though I don’t have lungs it felt good. No wonder humans like to do it all the time. Kate just grinned and started to send out communications and I turned the ship around. We let the rest of the crew know, and now that it was safe to be in most of the ship they started to get ready and prep. There were…few wounded…so the med bays were pretty empty. We could help…we will help.

“Well…let us do our best Kate.”

She patted my camera and we turned to join the fight. OH this was going to be interesting if nothing else.

This was never meant to be your purpose, you were just a single intelligence core meant to man a singular flak cannon, but the other cores were destroyed so now you're piloting the ship.

[p0orbaby]

can you do a little blurb for leah taking care of reader, they went to skii and reader broke her leg it happened to me but luckily i just sprained it😭

-

The house is too quiet, save for the hum of the kettle in the kitchen and the faint creak of Leah padding back and forth across the wooden floors. She’s muttering under her breath, something about how tea cures everything. You’re not convinced. You’re sprawled on the couch like a tragic heroine in a Victorian novel, one leg elevated and encased in an obscene amount of plaster.

You hadn’t even wanted to go skiing. Leah had insisted. “It’ll be fun,” she’d said. “You’ll love it.” And like an idiot, you believed her.

Now, you’re convinced the only thing skiing is good for is humiliation and orthopaedic bills.

“I brought you tea,” Leah announces, placing a mug on the table in front of you with all the delicacy of a bomb disposal expert. She doesn’t sit immediately. Instead, she hovers, hands on hips, like she’s waiting for a thank you that isn’t coming.

You glance at the tea. “I can’t reach it”

Leah sighs dramatically, though you notice the corner of her mouth twitch. “Do you want me to get you a straw?”

“Maybe”

She rolls her eyes but picks up the mug and holds it to your lips like you’re a baby bird. It’s both endearing and mildly infuriating. “You’re so helpless,” she says, but there’s no malice in it.

“I wouldn’t be if someone hadn’t convinced me to strap two planks to my feet and hurl myself down a mountain”

Leah snorts, setting the mug down again. “You were barely off the beginner slope”

“It was steep”

“It was a mild incline,” she counters, but there’s warmth in her voice now, a teasing lilt that makes you want to argue just for the sake of it.

You glare at her, though it’s half-hearted. “You’re enjoying this”

“Not the part where you got hurt,” she says quickly, sitting on the edge of the couch and brushing a strand of hair from your face. “But maybe the part where you have to rely on me for everything”

“Don’t get used to it”

“Oh, I’m treasuring every moment,” she says, her grin infuriatingly smug.

You groan and let your head fall back against the cushions. “I hate this. I can’t do anything. I can’t even wee without help”

“That’s not true,” Leah says brightly. “You managed just fine this morning”

“Only because you held the crutches steady”

“Which I did brilliantly, by the way,” she adds, leaning back and crossing her arms like she’s expecting applause.

You roll your eyes. “Saint Leah of the Crutches. Patron saint of poor, unfortunate souls”

“Exactly.” She reaches for the remote and switches on the TV, flipping aimlessly through channels before settling on a repeat of Bake Off. “You know,” she says, nudging your uninjured foot, “this isn’t so bad. It’s like a little staycation. Except instead of a spa, we’ve got NHS-issued painkillers and bad daytime telly”

You don’t dignify that with a response, choosing instead to stare mournfully at the leg that’s become both a burden and a punchline.

Leah glances at you, her teasing dimming slightly. “Hey,” she says softly. “You’ll be back to normal soon. And then you can tell everyone how brave you were”

“Brave,” you repeat flatly. “I cried when the paramedic cut my ski trousers”

“They were really nice trousers,” she agrees.

“Expensive, too”

“Don’t worry,” Leah says, and there’s that twinkle in her eye again. “I’ll buy you new ones. And maybe some knee pads. Or a bubble wrap suit”

You huff a laugh despite yourself. “You’re annoying”

“But alas, you still love me,” she says, leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your temple.

You can’t argue with that, so you don’t. Instead, you let her settle beside you, her arm slung around your shoulders, and together you watch Paul Hollywood critique someone’s soggy bottom.

[dragon-ascent]

Rex Lapis can read thoughts that are about him. Your thoughts are...interesting, to say the least.

The Geo Lord is passing by the market, eagerly observing the new shops that have popped up since his last visit. His presence naturally attracts a crowd, and they're respectful enough to keep their distance as he promenades leisurely.

He's used to the whirl of thoughts that follow his every move, but right there in the middle of the whirlpool is a strange little solitary boat that comprises your mind.

Oh my gosh, He’s here! Don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic don’t panic- oh oh, He can read thoughts that are about Him, so all I have to do is not imagine Him doing anything weird! Like…being stark naked and doing a chicken dance! …oh, oops…I just did.

For the next few nights, all of the deity's dreams are plagued by that image of himself doing a strange nude dance, the scene having burned itself into his memory against his will.

One day he's stopped to admire some pretty flowers along his path, and picks up on a sound that's very clearly not the birds chirping.

Holy fucking SHIT, He's here again! I knew I should have done sit-ups to make my butt look nicer before leaving home! Or maybe my butt is fine as is? Oh, I'll just walk on by and hope He notices...

Moments later, he turns around to find you doing a strange crab-walk, facing away from him as you pass by. You glance at him over your shoulder, and then when you catch him watching, you run a hand through your hair in what he assumes is meant to be a cool manner. You pause, trying to get the hair manoeuvre right, and then when you're satisfied, you continue your stupid little crab-walk away from him, hips gyrating like a donkey's.

One time, he is talking to your people regarding the fairness of contracts, and how important it is to respect the terms of a contract. Failure to do so would result in punishment personally delivered by himself, as the God of Contracts. Right on cue, there you are in the crowd, staring like a deer in headlights, and he immediately attunes himself to your mind.

Eeeeek! What kind of punishments does He administer? Maybe I should buy myself some handcuffs and a paddle in case I break a contract and He comes unprepared…

He throws you a firm look as if telling you to calm yourself and not think such lewd thoughts. Honestly, what kind of god do you think he is?! Rex would never commit such improper-

Yikes! He’s staring right at me! Maybe He doesn't like the colour of the handcuffs and paddle I'm envisioning..! Okay okay, breathe. No more pink fluffy cuffs! Only--brown fluffy cuffs! ...oh, He's still unhappy about that from the look on His face...