#or... running out of time to admit how you feel mood

[monstersholygrail]

Rushing Rapids

Merman x fem!reader— teasing, wild sex, creampie, aftercare, and a little teasing of cumplay

You could count on one hand the number of times your Merman Boss has let you see his Merman form. Far too busy running a highly successful company, the man doesn't often have time for a dip in the water to let his true self out to shine.

In fact, it was your job as his bodyguard to make sure he didn't come into contact with any source of water. Even the slightest drop ends up triggering his tail and he's left stuck like that for hours. And while your boss has gone through countless bodyguards to fulfill this task, you've been by far the best.

And you've lasted the longest too. You often hear his workers whispering to each other, secretly teasing him about how he must be in love with you to keep you around so long. While you didn't want to believe it, you couldn't ignore the way your heart flutters whenever it greets your ears.

But after today you're sure any feelings he has toward you are long gone. You half expect him to fire you on spot.

Today had been an important day for him as he had a lunch scheduled with an important client. All was going well until the waiter tripped, sending an entire pitcher of water to crash over him. You had been too slow, hadn't noticed the waiter fumbling nor the trajectory of the pitcher.

For a moment the world went still until your Merman Boss looked up at you with wide horrified eyes. While you were sure the horror was aimed at you, your boss was too busy wondering where he was possibly going to go. Luckily it just so happened that your place was nearby.

Now here you are, sitting on your toilet as your Boss' ginormous frame squishes into your tiny bathtub, his tail even falling off the edge and onto your floor. An adorable little pout marks his lips as he flicks at the water like he's this close to personally trying to fight it.

A part of you fears he's not only angry at the water but at you as well. Sure, you haven't been perfect at your job. You've made small mess ups here and there. But nothing like this.

"You seem upset."

Your Boss snaps his head over toward you, his pout growing impossibly bigger. If you didn't already know the question was ridiculous, his following scoff and the look on his face was plenty enough for you to get the message.

"Of course I'm upset. I just had a very important meeting fall through because a clumsy waiter forgot what even a merperson can do. Walk. And most don't even have legs."

His response stops you in your tracks, jaw dropping a little. He wasn't blaming you at all. The more you look at him the more you realize he isn't mad at you about it at all. Relief blooms in your chest, making you sit a little taller. You internally thank your boss, he should feel some of this relief too.

Without responding to his sarcastic reply you look around the bathroom in search of something that will help uplift the mood for him. As your eyes catch onto a bin in the corner your eyes light up.

Your boss is jolted from his thoughts as you suddenly dump a whole bin full of rubber duckies into the tub. All in attempts of making this feel more like a fun bath and less like a trap. But by the flat look on his face your boss is less than amused. Which you probably should've been expecting.

"Really? Rubber ducks?"

His voice shows his clear disdain for the toy but he hesitantly reaches out a hand and begins pushing it around. Almost... playing with it. Although he'd never admit that to you.

"Well, what else is there to do besides wait it out? There's not any other way to turn you back sooner?"

Your question settles between you two before something sparks in the depths of Merman Boss' eyes. His finger stills on the yellow duck toy but it drifts away in the water and it's impossible to know where it'll end up next. Something unsettling churns in your belly and you get the feeling you're not about to like this.

"Ok, so there may be something... But I can't say it out loud. Come in closer."

A lick of suspicion curls around you and your eyes narrow, appraising your boss. Though with one impatient look from him you know you won't be putting up an argument with him about it. He always ends up getting his way anyway so why not skip the foreplay?

"W-what is it? What can't you say out loud?"

The toilet rattles beneath you as you shift closer. It's the only real sound in the quiet bathroom aside from the swishing of water. Your breath hitches once you reach a certain closeness to your Merman Boss. This being officially the closest you've ever dared to be with him.

"Closer—“

"I'll do anything just tell me what you need," you interrupt, both not wanting to lose your job and giving any excuse you can to be near your boss.

Suddenly his hands are splashing out of the water and gripping onto your soft round hips. A shriek tears through you as one minute you're dry and the next you're soaking wet. And not in the good way either. You smack against a hard chest, your legs straddling the thick width of a tail, and it takes you a second to fully realize that your boss had just pulled you in.

Before you can lift your head to yell at him, his fingers pinch your chin and force you to meet his gaze. What you see in his eyes immediately silences you. The hunger burning in them leaves you gasping, sparking arousal deep in your core.

He leans in, stopping just short of your lips as they brush against each other. Your breath mingling and making you squirm on his slick tail. While you watch him stare down at your lips, waves of arousal continue to build within you.

"A human's kiss can turn me back much faster than simply waiting," he whispers softly like he doesn't want to break the tension between you.

Your body tingles with need as every fantasy you've ever dared to have about your boss dares to come to life. Every inch of you is overcome with impatience as you wriggle on his lap some more, gasping when something hard pops out from a slit on his tail.

"So why don't you kiss me?"

If possible, your Boss' eyes grow darker, the hunger inside them roaring to life as if trying to consume even him. His hold on your chin tightens like he's the one who needs to keep you still while he's shaking from his own restraint.

"Because once I start I won't be able to stop at just a kiss."

You go to ask what he means he bucks up his hips, intently brushing his rock hard cock along your clothed slit. And you immediately moan, totally unprofessional by the way, eyelashes fluttering briefly till you manage to look at your boss again.

You consider his words and what they could mean for you after this. But you want this, you've always wanted this since you first started working for the mysterious man. And it seems like he wants you just so much. So there's no need to fight it.

"Then don't stop," you reply.

Merman Boss surges forward before the words finish falling from your lips, his mouth clashing against yours. Mirroring moans vibrate between you like you're the sweetest damn thing he's ever tasted.

He presses into you as if trying to devour you, kissing you hard. Tongues fight for dominance and teeth knock together in your sheer desperation to make up for all the time you spent together not doing this.

His hand moves from your chin, caressing the skin of your cheek, and threading itself inside your hair. Ensuring you're real and that this is actually happening. Using his hold on you he molds your plump frame against his and starts rocking your core against his hard length.

"Get these off," he pants heavily, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to say that and then he's right back on you.

With a shocking amount of skill, the two of you manage to peel off your wet clothes in record time.

Both of you release strong powerful moans as your dripping cunt first makes contact with his thick girth. Every nerve in your body pulses as he takes hold of his cock and drags it through your folds, coating his length with your essence.

"You have no idea how long l've wanted this. Wanted you,” he breathes, his eyes shining with a longing that reflects your own.

"I have some idea."

Then you both moan as you sink down on his long pulsing cock, your hips buckling down on his length, taking him in hard and fast. Something ignites in your boss’ eyes and you shiver as his hands curl over your plush waist to help guide your movements.

But he has no idea how long you’ve been needing this, and it’s clear by the way his eyes widen as you start to ride him like your life depended on it. Your fingers dig into the scales on his shoulders to ground you and he hisses, his cock twitching and sliding against that special spot inside you.

With a fierce cry you start riding him even harder, every hard wet slap of your bodies meeting is aimed right for that spot, making you see stars. The water sloshes around in the tub like it’s in the midst of a raging storm when in reality it’s just you and your boss fucking each other’s brains out.

“Look at you, so perfect f’me. More than I ever realized,” your boss purrs, sounding as if he’s found the oceans most greatest treasure.

You moan loudly, your head rolling back as waves of pleasure rock through your body with every hard pump of his cock, his words only turning you on even more. Your body begins to buzz, on the precipice of something huge.

It only takes a few more pointed thrusts before you’re coming all over his cock with a ragged gasp, your body tensing before you sag against him, letting him take what he needs. And feeling your slick gummy walls clamping so deliciously on his length drives him nearly feral, his fangs flashing and his claws digging into your skin.

He moves your pussy up and down his cock, spurred on by every whine and whimper that falls from your mouth. Piercing growls slip from his own as your cunt drives him absolutely insane, he’s never felt anything better.

And he proves just that as he drives in as far as his cock can go and releases buckets of cum right into your depths, having never cum so hard in his life.

You both fall back to rest against the back of the tub, the only sound in the room being your harsh panting breaths. His hands smooth the tremors from your body, brushing up along your spine and holding you close. It’s nice and peaceful. Or is it the calm before the storm?

Because the longer he does it the action goes from soothing to arousing. And you know he can feel it too, just how much it’s affecting you. Your pulsing walls already trying to milk more from his spent shaft. And sea gods help him but it’s working.

“You know… it’ll still be some time before my tail fades. Why not make the most of it?” Your boss asks, hands sliding down to grab handfuls of your fat ass, and flexing his stomach as he rolls his hardening cock into your cum-filled cunt.

[rafesproperty]

Thinking about how Rafe would treat you each season…

Bro was tweakin’ the whole show 😭 Good luck with the mood swings

Also can you tell S2 Rafe is my fav and owns my entire heart? Ok? Ok.

» masterlist

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Season 1 Rafe treats you horribly. Never there for you even tho you are always there for him. Always thinking about himself.

He can be nice behind closed doors but the second you are with him and his friends he’s cold. He almost acts like you guys aren’t together but if one of his friends flirts with you he throws a tantrum. Also he gets mad when you don’t give him enough attention but he ignores your messages for days.

He snorts cocaine in front of you even tho it makes you uncomfortable… but he doesn’t really care as long as he gets his high. He asks to snort it from your thighs or cleavage as well. If you say no he’ll keep asking until you say yes just to shut him up.

If you’re being all annoying asking him to drive you home he’ll just smear some on your gums.

“Shit. Alright, c’me here baby,” he mumbles and you sit on his lap as he grabs a tiny bit of the powder and uses his fingers to open your mouth. “There you go, baby, good fuckin’ girl.” He chuckles and kisses you. You instantly melt into the kiss, feeling as if the drugs effect melts your body. You’re on top of him the entire night, cuddling up to him, straddling his lap, purring when he kisses you. You’re just so good to him, so devoted when you’re in this state.

He never lets you snort it tho. And he won’t do it again for a long time. He doesn’t want you to be addicted like him.

He calls you in the middle of the night and demands you come over when he’s in the mood. He’ll pick you up but won’t give you a ride home so you’re either staying or walking alone.

He yells Kiara looks hot at Midsummers when you’re right next to him. You’re angry at him but he doesn’t care.

Probably constantly breaking up and getting back together when he has one of his breakdowns and needs you. So he seeks you out. Cries to you about his dad. Cries to you about your relationship. Promises to do better. And you always take him back.

He takes you on motorbike dates, goes way over the speed limit tho.

You are there when his dad kicks him out, he takes his sadness and anger out on you. You are there when he kills the sheriff, and you’re not running away, not telling anyone, you’re keeping your mouth shut. For him. You do a lot of things for him.

Season 2 Rafe aka the most unhinged psycho you’ve ever met is actually nicer to you (worse to everyone else… but nicer to you). He keeps you safe. Never lets you walk alone at night. He basically never ever leaves your side, when he does it’s to do something he doesn’t want you to see.

He keeps you away from Ward and Barry - especially Barry. Until you actually meet Barry and find out he’s cool and funny asf. Rafe is pissed at first but Barry is the only guy he’ll let you hang out with (only in his presence, tho).

Barry starts calling you “Mrs. Country cluuuub.”

Never lets you do drugs again. Not even a little bit. He feels bad for what he did before, smearing it on your gums when you didn’t even really know what he was doing. He won’t admit it out loud, tho. He just won’t allow it again.

He needs to touch you constantly. Hand on your back or your thigh at all times. Holding you close to him. He needs to know feel you’re there.

He swears he’ll buy anything you damn want with the gold.

He still gets mad when he doesn’t get your attention but this time he’ll just take it. He’ll force you to give him attention if he has to. Sometimes he’ll rile you up and piss you off just so that he’s your main focus.

He seeks you out for comfort when he comes to your house all bloody and beaten… whether the blood is his or not is a mystery. He’ll open up to you, he’ll talk about his dad and you’ll comfort him with sweet words, he gets so used to it. Addicted. His dad never listened to him. No one ever listened to him. But you do. He may be in love with you.

He’s possessive. Won’t let you talk to other people, will break anyones bones if they look at you the wrong way. You’re his. And he’s slowly starting to realise that he is yours, too.

“I’ll take care of you. Shit, I’ll fuck up anyone who tries to hurt you, got that?”

He’s harsh about everything he doesn’t like and especially to people he doesn’t like. You better not get in the way when he’s really angry.

He hates it when he makes you cry, but if he’s already pissed off he can’t stop himself from yelling. He never hurt you tho. Maybe a few bruises from gripping your wrist with too much force but nothing intentional.

His eyes soften when you flinch one time. That being the only time he actually somewhat calms down.

Not many peaceful moments with him given how little chill he had in S2 😭 BUT if you guys are just talking, playing with eachothers fingers in the dark and you start talking about your future he melts. You always include him. In all the details and in all the plans. He loves you. He’s sure of it now.

Wheezie absolutely adores you, she gossips about Rafe with you all the time. You guys play board games and he’ll scoff and roll his eyes but Wheezie will force him to join. For 5 minutes. Then he’s like “Fuck this bullshit” (he’s losing) and he leaves. You and Wheezie laugh at him.

He tells you everything, he tells you about how he shot Sarah, how he tried to drown her, how he almost killed Pope, how he hates these fucking Pogues so much and wants them all dead… he’s never saying it calmly, his pupils are dilated, he’s shaking, his words are mixing, he has this look on his face… sometimes he’s so scary. But you never run away from him.

His obsession with making his dad proud slowly turns into an obsession to make you proud. To make you happy. To make sure the gold is fucking yours and anyone who tries to take anything away from you two dies.

I seriously can’t stress enough how Rafe is always obsessed with one person only and does absolutely everything in the world for them. And his focus changes from his dad to you. You’re his priority now. He’ll protect you, not his dad. He’ll make you proud, not his dad. You. You. You.

Season 3 Rafe is an obsessed man. Spoils you. Takes you on fancy dates all the time. Gets you anything you like or anything he likes.

Gets you hot dresses that he’ll rip the same day. You’re actually angry because you liked that dress so he’ll just buy it again.

He doesn’t really know how to express his emotions so he’ll just constantly buy you expensive things just because he can and he’ll keep you close, cuddle you, kiss you, squeeze your waist. Physical contact all the time, basically.

You don’t really fight anymore. But if he does make you angry you’ll wake up to princess treatment the whole day. Food, clothes, jewelry, his attention, anything you want, you got it.

“Can we get a dog?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

… almost anything you want.

You are his priority, always. Always focused on making you secure, safe, happy, proud, satisfied. You don’t have to ask for anything, ever. He’s got you.

Constantly shielding you with his body when you two go out, keeping you close, thumb drawing little circles on your back, his attention on you the entire time.

He’ll take you on boat drives and just chill and make out with you out on the open ocean.

He’s so madly in love with you.

He’s loyal, pushing other people away from him, and he expects the same from you… tho you usually don’t even get the chance to. He’s scaring anyone away the second they look at you.

He doesn’t care about Ward anymore, all he sees is his pretty girl who’s been with him the whole time, through everything. His girl. That didn’t push him away when he was on his lowest. His girl, who didn’t run away from him when he killed people. His girl who makes him feel so warm and fuzzy it actually keeps surprising him.

He wants to marry you, give you everything he has, pay you back for always having his back.

[nadvs]

the power play (part three)

pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader

rating mature 18+

summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.

< prev

Rafe is waiting for you in front of your building, this time to take you to a frat party.

“Hi,” you say cheerfully, settling into his passenger seat, “for the third day in a row.”

Apparently, Emma always goes to these parties, and since Beck is friends with a lot of the frat’s members, you’re almost certain he’ll go, too.

You’re also meeting Lyla there. She’s been open-minded about Rafe. You hope he doesn’t make her regret it.

“You’re going to have to be nice tonight,” you say, then shut the door with a hard thud.

“Why?”

“Because my best friend will be there and I want her to like you.”

Rafe stares ahead, his mood plummeting. He doesn’t want to deal with this.

He didn’t care what Emma’s friends thought about him, until she started bringing up how much they don’t like him. You’re not even his real girlfriend, and the thought of being subject to that sort of judgement again makes his blood run hot.

He drives out onto the road. You wait for him to speak, but he doesn’t.

“Don’t tell me you’re already mad about something,” you say with a quiet laugh. “What’s up?”

You haven’t even been in his car for half a minute and you’re already trying to open up his wounds again, clueless to the fact that you’re reminding him of the things he wants to forget.

“What am I supposed to say to her?” Rafe murmurs.

“Just be polite,” you reply. “And act like you like me.”

He tensley rakes a hand through his hair. Something’s off with him. He’s never had to ask you how to navigate this.

“Are you nervous?” you ask.

“Nah.”

“What are you then?”

“I’m fine,” he says tersely.

You roll your eyes. You thought you’d gotten past feeling uneasy about pulling this off, but right now, you have no idea if this is going to work when you and Rafe are so out of sync.

You already aren’t in the mood to go to a party. He’s not doing anything to change that.

“I guess I should take back what I said about us being friends,” you tease.

He doesn’t say anything. You gaze up at the starry night sky through the window, letting out a sigh.

“I’m okay to cancel if you don’t feel like doing this,” you offer. “I’m in the middle of a great book that I’d like to get back to anyway.”

Rafe doesn’t know what to do with the things you say sometimes. It’d be easier if you snipped back or iced him out like everyone else does, because then, he wouldn’t feel shitty like he does now.

It’s annoying how much you unknowingly push these touchy, complicated topics. Even though you’re giving him an out, it’s hard to ignore how rotten he feels when he shuts down your innocent chit-chat.

So, he relents.

“I don’t want to – to have to think about impressing someone,” he admits with a stammer you haven’t heard before.

You look at him again, somewhat stunned. You almost make a joke about how this whole ruse, which he thought up, sort of hinges on impressing people. But the tension is too thick.

“You don’t have to impress her,” you reply, your eyes drifting over the outlines of his profile. “I just want her to believe you like me because she might mention it to her brother. But it’s not like… a test. If it were, I’d make you study. That’s kind of my whole thing.”

You find relief when he cracks a small smile, his eyes still on the road. You smile back, wishing he thought of you as someone he could trust, and wondering why he’s stressed about his fake girlfriend’s best friend's opinion, when he doesn’t seem like the type to worry about what anybody thinks of him.

“I’m surprised you care what she thinks,” you say, your tone lighthearted.

Rafe chews on his lip.

“I know this isn’t…” He motions between you, aware of how ridiculous it is to be tense about this when you’re not even really dating. He exhales, giving in. “Emma’s friends didn’t like me. She always brought it up.”

His words hit you, sadness twisting your heart. His ex did badmouth him minutes after she met you; you wouldn’t be surprised if she complained about him to her friends, handing them reasons to dislike him, using it against him.

That’s what’s bothering him. This is a bad reminder.

“All you have to do is what you did last night,” you tell him. “You don’t even have to talk much. I honestly think Lyla expects to see me with a guy who lets me do all the talking.”

You continue to stare at him. He’s stiff. On edge. It’s another crack in the facade, another peek into the things he hides.

“Why would she… always bring it up?” you ask quietly.

Rafe turns the car onto a narrow street, the steering wheel sliding underneath his hands.

“We said shit just to hurt each other all the time,” he mutters.

You gaze forward, your chest tight. At this point, you’re sure that what they had was toxic. His ex said he had red flags, but it sounds like she was the same way. You still don’t know why he liked her so much.

He’s obviously worked up. You shouldn’t push. You decide to put yourself in the spotlight to even the score.

“I never told you how Beck rejected me,” you say. “He hugged me, then said I’m a better friend than his sister.”

“Shit,” he winces.

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “You know when you can’t fall asleep and you think about all of your most embarrassing moments? That’s one of mine.”

Rafe breathes a quiet laugh. He grips the wheel when he reaches a stop sign, frustrated that he’s so curt with you, and even more frustrated that he cares. You’re slowly claiming a soft spot he didn’t know he had, whether he likes it or not.

“I’m… still pissed off,” he explains, his syllables sharp. “At her. Not you.”

It’s something that you didn’t expect about Rafe when you first met – that he can tell when he’s being too harsh and then tensely backpedals. You have a feeling he’s not really mad. He’s hurt. But he’d rather hide behind anger.

“I would be, too,” you say.

He offers an appreciative nod, avoiding eye contact.

════════

Lyla greets you with a big hug once you find her in the crowded frat house.

“I haven’t seen you in forever,” she says, then looks up at Rafe. “You stole my best friend.”

“Can you blame me?” Rafe replies, putting his arm around your shoulders. You smile up at him, the uneasiness you’d felt dissolving. He can put on a good show when he wants to.

You quickly catch up with Lyla while Rafe quietly stands next to you. When there’s a gap in conversation, you turn to him and motion for him to come closer. He leans down.

“You can go hang out with your friends now,” you whisper. “Or should we stay together? What do couples do?”

Your words echo in his head. He didn’t think about if you’ve actually been part of a real couple before. He gazes at you, wondering why you never said anything about it.

“They should see us together first,” he finally says.

“Good point,” you say. “Let’s do a lap.”

Lyla finds a friend in the crowd and you take the opportunity to get a drink with Rafe. You walk to the kitchen, nudging past people together, your fingers interlaced with his.

Behind the worn laminate kitchen island, a lively game of beer pong is taking place. Emma is standing by the far end of the table, playing next to a guy who’s standing close to her.

You look up to see if Rafe notices. He does. His jaw tenses as he stares at her.

When you step up to the stack of empty solo cups, you catch Beck on the other side of the living room, leaning against a wall and chatting with a couple of his friends. You hate that your stomach still goes numb at his smile.

“They’re both here,” you tell Rafe.

He turns to face you, your hands still joined. You know what he looks like when he’s concentrating. You’ve seen it through your tutoring sessions, the way his eyes narrow and his dimples cave in as he flattens his lips together.

“You have your thinking face on,” you laugh.

“On the counter,” he says.

“Excuse me?” you nearly shout, eyes widened.

He nudges your hips with firm hands. The edge of the counter is hard against your lower back. He steps forward to push the clutter behind you aside.

Rafe’s brows lift in expectation.

“Sit on the counter,” he explains, “so they can’t miss us.”

You let him take the lead and feel for the counter with your palms. With Rafe’s grasp on your hips and your own force, you settle on the hard countertop. He guides your knees apart and shifts to stand between your thighs.

Your throat goes dry.

He’s smooth, experienced, clearly having done stuff like this before. The thought of it, of him, makes your skin burn and you force yourself not to picture it.

You’ve been close to Rafe before – you sat on his lap just last night – but this is the most suggestive position you’ve been in together, and it’s sending your thoughts into an uncontrollable frenzy.

Just a second ago, you were standing a few feet away from him, and now he’s between your legs, his frame big and dominating, his palms hot on your thighs.

“Hands on me,” he instructs.

You stiffly rest your forearms on his shoulders, the crisp smell of his cologne dancing over you. Your eyes dart to Beck, who hasn’t noticed you, and you tell yourself to do with Rafe what you always imagined doing with him.

You cradle the back of his neck, gently lacing his soft hair between your fingers. The conversations and music fade away as you and Rafe settle in a moment that looks private, but is really just for show.

Your mind slows down as you remind yourself that this isn’t real and there’s no reason to be shy.

Rafe is eye-level to you now. It’s still bothering him – why wouldn’t a girl who never stops talking tell him that she hasn’t been in a relationship?

“You haven’t dated before?” he asks.

“What?”

“Why are you asking me what couples do?”

“Oh.” You laugh and shrug, as if it’s apparent. “When you’re in love with someone for, like four years, you don’t really pay attention to other guys.”

“You didn’t tell me,” Rafe murmurs.

“Is it important?”

“A lot of things you say aren’t, but you still say them.”

You laugh, lips parting in shock.

“Jerk,” you mutter under your breath.

“You’re name-calling now?” he says, amused at the way that calling him that, even as a joke, seemed like it made you a little uncomfortable.

“Sure am,” you retort. “I’m kidding, though.”

He scoffs, amused again. Of course you had to clarify that you didn’t mean it.

“That’s why you’ve been so freaked out about this?” he realizes, cluing in that all your nerves have been because this, all of this, is entirely new to you.

“Paired with the fact that this is a ridiculous thing to be doing,” you say. “I thought it was obvious. So much for being easy to read, huh?”

Rafe’s brows furrow. It makes no sense. You two couldn’t be more different, but he can imagine what other guys would see in you now that he’s used to your unrestrained cheerfulness. You have a rare sincerity to you. It’s absurd how many years you wasted on Beck.

“What the hell do you see in him?” he asks, an unexpected sense of protectiveness pricking at him.

You look up to the ceiling in thought. Your fingers continue to lace through his hair, and he ignores the goosebumps that are blossoming on his skin.

When you look back down again, you notice Beck’s gaze on you from across the room.

“This is a first. I’m telling my pretend boyfriend why I like a guy that’s looking right at me,” you say. “I had fun with him. He’s hardworking and he’s nice to everybody and I respect that in a person. And when I talked to him, he cared about what I was saying. He remembered little things about me. He’s kind.”

“He led you on, though,” he remembers.

“Maybe. I do wonder if he knew I liked him and kept me around because he enjoyed the flattery or the help with school,” you say. “But I don’t know. He could’ve hoped I’d get over it and wanted to spare me the embarrassment. Or maybe I read into things and imagined he was flirting with me when he never was. I could’ve built all this stuff up in my head.”

Rafe takes in all the words you just threw at him, bringing out a touch of amusement from you.

“I fell for him because he made me feel special,” you conclude. “Isn’t that a big part of loving someone? You like the person you are when you’re with them?”

He looks at you silently, reminding you of when you met him and all he would offer you is a blank stare. Then, his face drops in melancholy.

While he’s usually drowning in his overwhelming thoughts, with his ex, life was simple. He could forget about the shit he didn’t want to think about because she never pushed.

Before they started fighting so much, he could do his best impression of who he always wanted to be. A man who’s steady. Who’s strong.

“Yeah,” Rafe says.

“How’d you feel with her?” you ask. “When things were good, I mean.”

You hope he meets your eyes again. He does.

“Everything was easy,” he says. “It’s like I wasn’t as…”

“As?”

“Fucked up,” he admits.

Your shoulders drop. For the first time, you see a piece of why he was with Emma. She made him feel uncomplicated.

You wonder what Rafe has been through to make him think of himself that way, but you’re treading carefully, avoiding any risk of embarrassing him. No matter how rude he can be, you’re almost certain it comes from a place of sensitivity, and of wishing it didn’t.

“Isn’t it kind of funny?” you say, trying to lighten the mood. “He made me feel special and you make me feel annoying. She made things easy for you and I literally nag you to do your homework. And we’re supposedly dating.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smile. You mirror it.

Just past his shoulder, you spot Emma’s gaze on you. She’s still playing beer pong, laughing with the guy she’s standing next to, but her eyes land on you and Rafe every few seconds.

“She keeps looking over,” you say. You think of their shared history, of how many memories they must have made together. Maybe Emma just needs to see him with someone else long enough to realize she wants him back. “What will you do if she wants to get back together?”

Rafe squints. He kept trying to make things work after she broke up with him because he just wanted the peace he’d once had with her back.

But when someone fucks him over, he’s done. The way she’s been dragging his name to anyone who’ll listen, to you the very day she met you, leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. She may have broken his heart, but she doesn’t own it anymore.

“I’m done with her,” he tells you. “What if Beck asks you out?”

You’re not sure how to answer him, because you’d written off Beck being interested in you as a possibility. You hate that your heart skips thinking about it.

You shouldn’t want a man who could only want you once he thinks he can’t have you. But it’s easier said than done. The years of infatuation have a hold on you.

“I don’t know,” you confess. “But no matter what happens, we should have an easy-out clause. No hard feelings when one of us is done with this. Cool?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Cool.”

“Beck’s looking, too,” you say. “I think they’re buying it. Can I…?”

You bring your hands forward to gently rest on Rafe’s jaw, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones.

“You don’t have to ask,” he says with a subtly irritated shake of his head.

His hands are splayed over your thighs and your knees are pressed against his hips. It might be a good thing to get some practice with a guy you’re not really with. Affection won’t be as intimidating if you’ve already done it in a controlled setting.

Rafe waits for you to say something, to do something. Maybe you’ll break your ‘no kissing’ rule, even though now he’s pretty sure it’d be your first kiss.

“You know what?” you say gently.

He takes in the way your eyes travel over his face, and for a split second, it’s like you can see just how much he hides below the surface, like you’re going to keep digging until you find out what it is.

He nods once, silently beckoning you to continue.

“The next book on the syllabus is one of my favorites,” you say.

He smirks, relieved you’re joking instead of prying.

“This really is the type of shit you’d talk about with your boyfriend,” he realizes. He thought you were just nervously rambling the other night because you had nothing else to talk about, but he was wrong.

You purse your lips in thought, memories trickling in.

“Yeah,” you say, sadness clouding your features. “It’s one of the reasons I thought Beck liked me back. He liked to listen to me ramble about whatever I was reading. And he was interested. Or he acted like it. I really… I wish I could get over him.”

Rafe’s face falls again, confused over why a guy who did shit like that for years, who stared at you the way he did last night, pushed you away.

“I know,” is all he can offer, because he really does understand the desperation of wanting to feel whole again after somebody breaks you.

“Sorry to interrupt,” you hear.

You glance up to see Lyla, her eyes darting to where Rafe is standing between your legs. You almost want to pull away, explain that it’s not what it looks like, nearly forgetting that you’re supposed to be fooling her, too.

“Hey,” you say.

“You want to do a shot with me?” she asks.

“Sure.”

You grip Rafe’s shoulders and shift forward. His hands tighten on your hips and you gently drop to the ground, pressed against his body.

“I’ll find you later?” you ask him.

He leans down low again, his temple brushing against yours.

“Take it easy, lightweight,” he replies.

You look up at him with a big grin.

“What?” he mutters.

“You’re worrying about me,” you whisper. “We are friends.”

“Get out of here,” he sighs.

You laugh and squeeze his hand before you step aside.

════════

You meant to keep count of your drinks. You really did. But every drink was like a temporary antidote against the heartbreak that’s been haunting you, and before you knew it, you were drunker than you’ve ever been before.

The night slips in and out of focus. You’re laughing with Lyla, then you’re playing beer pong, then you’re looking for Rafe.

You find him in a pocket of the crowd standing with a few other hockey players, your mind and body dizzy and hot. You cover his hand with yours, gently tugging him closer.

“I came here to ask you something,” you mumble into his ear when he leans down, his cologne hitting you again. “And… I don’t remember what it was.”

He shakes his head disapprovingly. You were stone cold sober earlier in the kitchen, and now you’re plastered.

“I told you to take it easy,” he says.

“I thought I was. I’m usually very responsible.” You shift to meet his eyes. “You smell great, by the way.”

“Okay?” he replies stiffly.

“Are you always this bad at accepting compliments?” you ask.

He is, and he hates how quickly you figure this kind of stuff out about him.

“What do you want?”

You squint, looking out at the crowd as you attempt to put your fragmented thoughts together. You spot Lyla.

“Oh! Could you give me and Lyla a ride home?” you ask.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I’m done here anyway.”

Just a few minutes ago, Rafe watched Emma leave the house with the same guy she was playing beer pong with. It screwed a hole into his chest and he’s been wanting to get the fuck out of here since.

════════

You crack open the window as Rafe drives away from the frat house. Lyla’s in the backseat, tapping on her phone.

He glares at the road. Who was that guy Emma left with? And how the hell does he stop giving a shit? Is he doomed to spend the rest of his life wishing he didn’t care about things as much as he does?

Thinking of her with him doesn’t bring up jealousy. It’s anger. Disappointment. Because he’s losing this game.

“Did you have a good time tonight?” you ask Rafe, the cool spring breeze pressing against your face.

He glances at you. Even though you hardly ever see eye-to-eye, you genuinely want to be kind to him, consoling him on the way to the party, paying him compliments when drunkenness took away your filter.

Despite how irritating it can be when you pry, you don’t do it out of malice. And you even cracked him up a few times tonight.

He decides to answer you honestly, to be nice like you told him to be, ignoring the discomfort.

“When I was with you, yeah,” he replies.

“Aww,” Lyla coos from behind you.

You smile, discreetly giving him a thumbs up for his performance. He means it, but he’ll let you believe he said it just because your friend’s listening.

════════

Lyla directs Rafe to the front doors of her dorm, and when she tries to say goodbye to you, she laughs once she realizes you dozed off.

“Thanks for the ride. I still don’t really get this,” she says to Rafe, pointing between you two, “but I can tell it works.”

He knows why it looks like that. It’s because, as much as Rafe didn’t expect it, you’re right. You two genuinely became friends at some point over the last three weeks.

The sound of Lyla shutting her door snaps you awake. You quickly gauge your surroundings, realizing you’re on the opposite end of campus by Lyla’s building. The athletes’ dorm is practically a ten second drive away and the route to your building will be a long detour for Rafe.

“Isn’t your dorm like, right next door?” you murmur.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll just sleep over,” you say in an exhausted daze. “So you don’t have to drive all the way to the other side of campus and back.”

It’s nearing two in the morning. Rafe just wants to be in his bed. So, he goes along with your idea.

════════

Your eyelids flutter open. You stare ahead to see a broad, bare back sitting at a desk. Then, you recognize the unkept dark hair you ran your fingers through last night, as well as your tabbed copy of Lost Horizon sitting on the dresser.

You’re in Rafe’s dorm room. In his bed. Your face buried in his pillow.

Last night flashes through your mind. You’d thoughtlessly suggested a sleepover. Rafe helped you out of the car and let you lean on him in the elevator and complained that you weren’t making enough space for him in his bed.

“I am so sorry,” you murmur.

Rafe turns around, taking out an earbud with an eyebrow raised.

“Finally awake?” he says.

Your chest stings and your stomach turns as you slowly sit up. You put your hand on your forehead, tangled up in his duvet, last night’s clothes tight and uncomfortable as you think back to how much you drank.

“I should’ve listened to you,” you murmur. “That was not taking it easy. I was stupid.”

“Thought that was a bad word.”

“It is,” you say with a pointed finger. “Thank you. It is.”

You finally look at him again. He’s in sweats, gray boxers peeking out the band, his muscular body curled over the chair. It’s unusual to see him like this; in his downtime, sitting at his desk, using his laptop, shirtless.

You’d felt his body against yours, felt the firmness of his muscles, but seeing him like this in broad daylight raises your pulse.

Rafe notices your gaze linger on his chest before you meet his eyes again. If he really is flustering you, it’s a good dose of payback, considering how he felt when you sat on his lap and played with his hair.

“What the hell did I drink last night?” you mumble.

“You tell me.”

He gazes at you as you try to remember. Even though it was snug sleeping next to you in his tiny single bed, it was nice to not spend a night on his own. He already knew he was lonely, but feeling you next to him, hearing your breath as he dozed off, showed him just how much.

“Shots? Beer? Something really sweet?”

“You mixed,” he realizes. “Bad move.”

“I feel like death,” you groan. “I’m going home now.”

You shuffle forward, your legs hanging over the edge of his bed. You slide off, briefly losing your balance before your feet touch the carpet.

You catch yourself, gripping his shoulder. He cups your wrist as you wobble. You pull your hand back and readjust your clothes, a wrinkled mess now, then pick your bag up off the floor, which you’re glad you thought to bring in your stupor.

“I’m sorry again. Thanks for… dealing with me,” you say quickly, smoothing back your hair. Rafe only smirks, entertained by how embarrassed you are. “I’m walking home because I might throw up and I don’t think we’re at the point where I can do that in front of you yet.”

“You already did.”

Your lips part in shock and he laughs.

“You’re kidding,” you realize. “I didn’t expect you to be a morning person.”

“I’m not.” He looks over at his laptop for the time. “It’s half past noon.”

You sigh in shame and make your way to the door.

“Hold on,” he says. You turn and almost miss the ball of fabric he throws towards you. When you hold it up and realize it’s one of his extra jerseys, you laugh.

“Wear it to the next game,” Rafe tells you.

“Good idea,” you say, imagining the way Emma, and hopefully Beck, will fume at the sight of you with Cameron across your back. “See you.”

You rush down the hallway, thrown out of your thoughts when you hear a loud click. Beck is unlocking his door a few feet ahead of you.

You internally groan. You feel awful and you’re sure you look it, too.

His eyes search your face, as if he doesn’t recognize you. On top of the embarrassment and anxiety you’re already feeling, the sight of him bombards you with the familiar pain of rejection.

“Hey,” you say with an awkward laugh. You need to act casual. You figure if you can pretend to like Rafe, you can pretend to not like Beck. “How’s it going?”

He looks past you, no doubt cluing in that you’re leaving Rafe’s dorm in last night’s clothes. You know what he’s going to think – you spent the night doing more than just sleeping. Suddenly, you’re glad you ran into him.

“Good,” he says absentmindedly. “You?”

“Good,” you reply, continuing to walk past him. Beck looks down, seemingly thrown off.

“I have to say…” He lets out a humorless chuckle. You stop and turn to look at him. “It’s kind of crazy that you’re hanging out with him.”

“Crazy?”

“He’s not really your type.”

Your heart hammers in your chest.

“What is my type?” you challenge.

Beck’s forehead crinkles in what you’d have to guess is disappointment. You swallow nervously. He could say so many things that would break your heart even more. And you hate that he has that much power over you.

“I just think he’s… intense,” he replies.

“I like intense,” you say.

Beck seems out of words. And as much as you want to stay, to ask what he’s thinking, you’re done waiting on bated breath for him, hoping he feels how you do when you share a private moment.

If you act like you’re not in love with him, your heart will eventually catch up. It has to.

“Nice to see you,” you say, carrying on towards the elevator. And walking away from him instead of the other way around for once gives you a newfound feeling of victory that you realize you really needed.

next >

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[juneoirs]

𝓑𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑

𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇. . when katsuki finally confessed his “big problem”—his baby fever that had been eating away at him for months— tiny feet and starting a family, you were surprised—but safe to say, you weren’t against it.

katsuki bakugo had a big problem. well, not big enough to cause chaos—though he was no stranger to that—but big enough to keep him up at night, pacing his living room like a restless tiger in a cage. how could a man like him—a grumpier version of any grandmother you’ve ever met, a walking volcano of hot-headedness, and someone who never gave a damn about societal expectations—have this kind of problem?

the thing is, katsuki bakugo was hiding a secret. a deep, dark, unbelievably soft secret. one that not even you, the person closest to him, would suspect. because who in their right mind would guess that the mighty explosion master extraordinaire, was an absolute sucker for babies?

yes, katsuki bakugo had a raging case of baby fever.

it started the moment he began spending more time with you—watching you interact with the world, your gentle care for others, and that warmth you exuded that could melt even his gruff exterior. he never really thought about kids before, much less his own. but then he saw you holding a friend’s baby at a small gathering, cradling the tiny bundle in your arms like they were the most precious thing in the world. the way you smiled down at them, the soft cooing noises you made, and how the baby instantly relaxed against you—it was like a punch straight to his chest.

katsuki swore he felt his heart skip a beat. that tiny human looked so damn peaceful in your arms, and for the first time in his life, he imagined what it might be like to see you holding a child that looked like both of you.

ever since that day, the thought just wouldn’t leave him alone. he’d catch himself staring at families in parks, his sharp eyes zeroing in on chubby cheeks, tiny fingers, and wobbly little steps. he even started tolerating kirishima’s stories about his nieces and nephews, though he’d never admit it out loud.

but here’s the kicker—katsuki bakugo was absolutely mortified about telling you. how does a guy like him, who’s built his entire persona on being tough, independent, and borderline unapproachable, confess that he’s been daydreaming about late-night feedings and toddler tantrums? about a miniature version of himself—or, god forbid, you—running around the house?

so he kept it to himself, bottling up those strange, unfamiliar feelings like he did with most things. but every time he saw you, especially when you were in one of those rare, tender moods, he felt that itch grow stronger. he wanted to tell you. he wanted to share this part of himself with you.

and it didn’t take much longer for you to figure out what was going on with your husband. after all, you knew katsuki bakugo like the back of your hand—every scowl, every grumble, every subtle shift in his demeanor. it was easy to notice when something was off, even when he thought he was being sneaky about it.

you saw how his eyes would linger, softening ever so slightly, whenever a baby was around. at first, you thought it was just a coincidence—a rare moment of katsuki being uncharacteristically quiet. but then it kept happening. whether it was at the park, at a friend’s house, or even in the grocery store, he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away from those chubby-cheeked little ones.

and then there were the baby videos. oh, those damn videos. you remembered the first time you caught him watching one. he’d been sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone with his usual scowl. but when you peeked over his shoulder, you saw it—a ridiculously adorable video of a baby giggling uncontrollably at their dog’s antics.

“seriously, katsuki?” you teased, leaning in closer. “didn’t take you for the ‘cute baby video’ type.”

he practically jumped out of his skin, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket with a glare. “shut up.” he barked, his ears turning a telltale shade of pink. “it popped up on my feed. stupid algorithm.”

but after that, you started noticing more. how his fingers would hesitate just a second longer when he scrolled past a baby video, or how he’d glance at your phone if you were watching something similar. of course, he’d always roll his eyes and mutter something about how “cringe” and “unnecessary” it was for people to post that kind of shit online.

“what’s the point, huh?” he’d grumble, arms crossed over his chest. “ain’t like anyone cares about random babies.”

but you weren’t fooled. not even for a second. the way his voice softened at the end, the faintest twitch of his lips as if he were fighting back a smile—you knew. katsuki bakugo had a soft spot, and it was big enough to fit every giggling baby and their tiny fingers in it.

and now that you knew, it was just a matter of time before you brought it up. because there was no way you were going to let him keep this adorable little secret to himself.

you decided to wait for the right moment, knowing katsuki would probably combust on the spot if you confronted him too soon. patience wasn’t always your strong suit, but for this, you were willing to bide your time.

that moment came one lazy sunday afternoon. katsuki was sprawled out on the couch, pretending to be interested in whatever action movie was playing on the TV, but you knew better. his phone was resting suspiciously close, and every few minutes, he’d glance at it like it was calling his name.

“you know.” you began casually, sitting down beside him and leaning against his shoulder. “you’ve been acting kinda weird lately.”

he stiffened immediately, a gruff ‘tch’ escaping his lips as he shifted under your weight. “the hell are you talking about? ’m not acting weird.”

“oh, really?” you tilted your head to look up at him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “so, you’re saying you didn’t watch that compilation of babies trying lemons yesterday?”

his eyes widened, just a fraction, before narrowing into his usual glare. “you were spying on me?”

“you were sitting right next to me, katsuki. it’s not spying if you’re practically shoving it in my face.”

he grumbled something under his breath, probably a string of curses about how nosy you were, but you weren’t about to let him squirm out of this.

“you know.” you continued, voice softer now. “it’s okay to admit you like them. babies, i mean.”

his entire body went rigid, and for a moment, you thought he might explode—not in anger, but sheer embarrassment. his ears turned that familiar shade of pink, and he refused to meet your gaze, choosing instead to glare at the TV like it had personally offended him.

“i don’t—” he started, but you cut him off with a gentle laugh.

“katsuki.” you said, reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his. “it’s fine. it’s not like you’re some heartless robot. you’re allowed to like cute things, you know. even babies.”

he let out a frustrated sigh, running his free hand through his hair. “it’s not like that.” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “i just. . fuck, i don’t know. ever since you—i mean, we—it’s just been on my mind, okay?”

you blinked, taken aback by his honesty. katsuki bakugo wasn’t the type to bare his soul, but here he was, stumbling over his words, trying to explain something he didn’t fully understand himself.

“on your mind, huh?” you teased gently, though your heart was swelling at his vulnerability. “like. . you’ve been thinking about us? having a baby?”

he groaned, dropping his head back against the couch and covering his face with his arm. “don’t make me say it out loud, idiot.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, leaning up to press a kiss to his cheek. “you’re such a dork, katsuki. but for the record. . i think you’d be a pretty amazing dad.”

that got his attention. he peeked at you from under his arm, his crimson eyes searching yours for any hint of doubt or teasing. when he didn’t find any, his expression softened, and he let out a quiet, almost relieved breath.

“yeah?” he asked gruffly, like he didn’t quite believe it.

“yeah.” you said firmly, squeezing his hand with a warmth that made his chest ache in the best way. “and, you know, maybe it wouldn’t be the worst idea to start our own family.”

katsuki could feel his heart skip a beat, the words settling over him like a blanket of relief and excitement all at once. he stared at you, wide-eyed and a little stunned, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard.

you were more than happy with his idea.

he didn’t know what he was expecting—maybe teasing, maybe some sarcastic remark to brush off the heavy topic—but this? this genuine, heartfelt agreement? it floored him.

“you— you mean that?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual, almost hesitant.

you smiled at him, your expression so soft and full of love that he thought he might melt right then and there. “of course, i mean it, katsuki. i’ve been thinking about it too, you know. and seeing how you are. . it just makes me feel like we’d be good at this. together.”

his throat felt tight, and he swallowed hard, trying to keep his emotions in check. katsuki bakugo didn’t cry, damn it, but this moment—this you—was doing something to him he couldn’t quite explain.

“yeah, well.” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away, his ears still bright red. “don’t think i’ll be one of those soft-ass dads who lets the kid get away with everything.”

you chuckled, leaning closer and wrapping your arms around his middle. “no, you’ll be the dad who pretends to be all tough but secretly sneaks them sweets when i’m not looking.”

“the hell i will.” he shot back, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk.

you chuckled softly, the sound filling the quiet room as you glanced up at your husband. your eyes met his, and in that moment, they said more than words ever could—full of love, trust, and the unspoken promise of a future you both were starting to dream about together.

katsuki’s crimson gaze softened in a way that was reserved only for you. his calloused hand moved with a gentleness that never failed to surprise you, his fingers slowly tilting your chin up to meet his.

“c’mere.” he murmured, his voice low and rough, but carrying a warmth that made your heart flutter.

before you could reply, his lips brushed against yours, firm yet tender, a kiss that spoke volumes. it wasn’t just a kiss—it was reassurance, excitement, and an unspoken vow all wrapped into one.

you melted into him, your hands sliding up to rest against his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palms. it was moments like this that reminded you just how deeply katsuki loved, even if he wasn’t always the best at putting it into words.

slowly, the kiss deepened, the soft tenderness giving way to something more heated, more desperate. katsuki’s hands moved on instinct, his grip firm yet gentle as he guided you onto his lap. the motion was seamless, almost as if it was second nature for him to want you this close, to feel you against him.

his hands found their way to your waist, fingers pressing into your sides in a way that made your breath hitch. it wasn’t calculated—it never was with katsuki. his movements were raw, driven by pure feeling, as if his body knew what he wanted before his mind could catch up.

you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging lightly, earning a low growl from deep in his chest. the sound sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but press yourself closer, your knees bracketing his thighs as you straddled him.

“you’re somethin’ else.” he murmured against your lips, his voice husky and rough as his hands tightened their hold on your waist, pulling you even closer. “always makin’ me feel shit i never thought i’d feel.”

you smiled against his mouth, your own fingers sliding down to trace the sharp lines of his jaw. “maybe i just have that effect on you, katsu.”

“damn right, you do.” he shot back, his lips trailing down your jaw and along the column of your neck, leaving a searing trail in their wake. his breath was hot against your skin, and the way his hands moved—one slipping up to rest against the small of your back, the other holding your hip firmly in place—made your head spin.

the movie playing in the background was long forgotten, the only sounds in the room now the soft gasps escaping your lips and the low, gravelly noises katsuki made as he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. and truthfully, he couldn’t.

[strwberri-milk]

hii can i ask u to write hc about boys when they say something in conversation that will hurt mc, for example when they will mention her appearance like rafayel in ebb when he said 'its round like u'. hope u have great dayy<33

Zayne, being a doctor, has lots of opinions about some of your unhealthier habits. He doesn't share them all the time because he never wants to come off as nagging but you don't need him to say anything to know that he's staring at you judgmentally. He averts your gaze when you turn to him but it's already too late.

You feel yourself becoming demoralised, whatever you were doing totally abandoned as you decide to leave. Zayne knows exactly what happened, cursing himself for not keeping himself in check around you. He just can't help but worry, wanting to see you take care of yourself. The second you try to leave he grabs your wrist, apologising as he tells you it's just because he loves you.

He promises to use his words next time. You sniffle a little, deciding to act a little immature as you tell him that the issue is that he makes it very clear what he thinks. You'd rather him just tell you rather than look at you judgmentally, Zayne unaware just how it looked to you. Generally, he keeps his expression neutral but whenever it comes to you he wears his heart on his sleeve. Or he thinks he does - you've just become so attuned to him that you know what every slight quirk of his brow means.

Xavier also does micro expressions that seem a little judgemental, generally whenever you say something he finds a little odd. He isn't sure if it's just because he's missing some context but when he does it one too many times in a conversation you begin to mutter an apology for boring him.

He's tripping over himself to try and correct you, wanting to tell you that it's not that he's bored, he's just struggling to follow the conversation. You confront him by telling him that even when he's following the conversation just fine he still makes faces at you sometimes. He's now forced to admit that he thinks he makes faces the more tired he gets, body subconsciously trying to get the conversation to end so he can go flop onto the nearest fluffy surface.

However, since it hurts your feelings he does his best to monitor himself, trying to be more active in your conversations. You can see how tired he is though, taking pity on him and telling him to go take a nap. You'll be there to infodump on him when you wake up anyway.

Rafayel says things off handedly, especially when he's not feeling well. Normally you can take it well but today you just couldn't, his passive insult hitting you hard. He watches your face cloud over, brows furrowing as he tries to understand what this sudden shift in your mood is attributed to.

You make it clear it's because of what he said about you, the one statement being the straw that broke the camel's back. You ignore him, not wanting to even look at him as you walk away from him. You try to cool off, your mind spinning as his unintentional words play over and over again. It takes you a while before you can even speak to him normally and when you seek him out he looks like a scolded dog.

He immediately perks up when he sees you, apologising profusely when you come back to him. Despite being mad at him, you also know he provides the most comfort so you crawl into his lap and begin to scold him. He takes it in stride, knowing that he messed up and promising that he'll take better note of your mood to know when he should and shouldn't joke with you about things like that.

Sylus has a sharp tongue like Rafayel but he sounds slightly more "serious" when he says those things. His voice doesn't lend well to jokes unfortunately, meaning that if you're feeling a little more raw one day then you're going to take his words seriously, just like today.

He doesn't let you run from him though - grabbing you and asking you what the problem is. You normally can take his teasing, returning it to him twofold. When you don't quip at him he knows something is wrong, waiting for you to use your words and tell him. He's patient whenever it comes to you thankfully, letting you take your time. You struggle in his grip a little, not wanting to tell him right away but the warmth he provides is just too good so you bury yourself in his chest, telling him that he hurt your feelings.

He coos at you sweetly, telling you how adorable you are and apologising by peppering your face in kisses. He hates making you sad and even if he doesn't overtly say it, you know he regrets it by how he's careful not to insult you if you don't start it first, using how you speak to him as a gauge before returning with some of his usual playful nips at you.

[purinfelix]

pretty please? - n. riki ₊˚⊹♡

summary: dragging your introverted boyfriend to a house party doesn't go entirely as planned - but still ends exactly how it's meant to ──────────── ni-ki x reader || semi-college au, ni-ki is a pouty emo baby, kinda that "i only like you" dynamic, super soft fluff || w/c: 1.4k

a/n: i'm soft for niki yall i just love writing him like this ARGHGHDF ... also this is semi inspired by the party scene with jess and rory from gilmore girls if anyone cares ALSO AAA HOW GOOD IS THE COMEBACK YALL SDKJFNSDKFJN

Call it basic, but house parties have always been a little bit of a guilty pleasure for you.

The loud music, the less-than-enjoyable drinks, the mindless chatter - some might find it irritating or a waste of time, but to you, it's harmless fun. Letting yourself let go, to just enjoy the company of other people and the feeling of dressing up, it felt like just the thing you needed, especially after a hellish exam week.

But Niki didn't seem to share the same sentiment, judging from the look he had given you when you brought up the idea to him a couple of weeks ago - something in between disgust and concern. Though he's never been able to say no to you, and so before the two of you know it, you're walking hand in hand into a bustling room full of moving bodies and flashing lights.

It's only about two hours into the party, though, that you notice the glaring absence of an arm snaked around your waist, or a hand sprawled across the small of your back. You'd always been the more extroverted of you two, so at first, you didn't think much of it when he left you to your conversations. But not being able to spot your boyfriend's tall figure anywhere - lurking in any corners or hovering around the drinks table like he typically did when you dragged him to things like this, it concerned you slightly. So you were quick to brush off the small talk you were making to set off the find him,

And you did soon enough, not anywhere near the loud music or chatter, but rather, somehow, in one of the bedrooms, alone. It almost made you laugh when you tentatively opened the door, half expecting to find a couple drunkenly making out behind it, only to spot your boyfriend sitting in an armchair in the dim light, staring at his hands with an expression you could only describe as pure boredom.

"There you are," you whisper gently, trying to lighten the mood.

He doesn't say anything, but his eyes flicker to you and for just a moment he looks a little surprised, almost as if he wasn't expecting you to come looking for him.

"I've been looking all over for you," you coo, shutting the door behind you so that the room darkens once again, and the noise of the party is muffled just enough.

"Just got tired of everything going on down there," he sighs, and it's a heavy sigh. You watch as his eyes meet yours, as if he's trying to gauge your reaction to his disappearing act.

You only offer a reassuring smile in response, padding your way over and finding your way to stand between his knees, his hands coming up almost instinctively to grip your hips in a way that tells you he wasn't enjoying your time apart. He buries his face into your stomach, and you can feel him shut his eyes as he leans into your warmth.

"Sad boy," you tease, running your fingers through his hair, "I thought you said you didn't mind coming with me."

"I didn't," he huffs, a little childishly, "but then we got here and it's all so loud and everyone here is annoying."

"Well we could just go down and talk for a little bit, c'mon," you beg softly.

"I don't want to talk to anyone else," he admits, pausing before continuing, "I don't like anyone else." You're about to laugh at how cheesy his words are, but as he lifts his head, you see his truly earnest expression, lips forming the tiniest pout.

You'd be lying if you said you wanted to leave this party now, but the look on his face - a mix between demanding and begging - makes it difficult for you to stand your ground.

"You want to get out of here, then?" you ask softly, just barely above a whisper as you cup his face, thumb stroking the side of his cheek.

He pauses, shutting his eyes as he leans into your touch once more. "You should stay," he mumbles, leaning back into the chair before shrugging, "you're having fun."

You tilt your head with a frown, hand falling to your side. "That isn't what I asked."

He returns your expression, somewhat hesitantly, and you can't remember the last time you've seen him so reluctant. "I just don't want to be the reason you leave early. I saw you smiling while you were dancing and chatting, you looked so ... beautiful."

His voice is careful, like he's trying to maintain his normally cool facade, but there's something heavier to what he's saying that makes it difficult for him to stay calm. "It's not your fault I'm the boring one."

"You're not boring," you say sternly, "and you're my favourite person, nothing's fun for me if you're sitting here sulking alone."

His eyes glance at yours once more before darting to the floor. You watch as he bites the inside of his cheek, clearly fighting the urge to admit something. So you soften, bending down and leaning in closer to force him to meet your eye, to see your expression that's pleading him to tell you the truth.

"Be honest with me, Ki."

The nickname seems to finally crack him, and when he talks, it's the tiniest whisper. "Yeah, I kinda hate it here."

"There we go," you coo sweetly, face breaking into a smile as you peck the corner of his lips.

"You're not mad?"

You shrug. "I don't really mind, there are parties like this every night, so it's not like I'm missing much."

He nods slightly, but doesn't move from his chair, so you can tell he's not quite convinced.

"Plus, it's hard to be mad at you when you're sitting here looking like an abandoned puppy." You add, watching as he looks up and lets out a soft laugh, somewhat incredulous, or maybe even offended, at your comment - but really, you're just happy to see him smile.

"I do not," he insists, pushing himself up from the chair so he's towering over you, but there isn't any real bite behind his words and that - the familiar mix of teasing and tenderness - is how you know you have your boyfriend back.

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. "Are you kidding me? All you need is a tiny violin and some rain, and people would be lining up to adopt you."

He groans dramatically as he pulls you in by the waist, burying his face into your neck. "Can we leave now, or are you just going to keep bullying me until I leave by myself?"

"Depends," you smile, "will you admit you were waiting for me to find you?"

He doesn't say anything, just pulls back and looks at you with a smirk, one that's playing coy at being caught in the act - and that's all the answer you need. He lets you pull him towards the door, and back out into the muffled chaos of the party, where you start saying your goodbyes to all the faces you barely remember even talking to.

As you're almost finished, though, he leans in close to your ear and mumbles something, quick and quiet, like another sheepish confession.

"Besides, you looked too good tonight, didn't feel like sharing."

You blink, caught off guard as a small scoff escapes your lips. You turn around just to catch the flicker of a smug smile across his lips, though his ears are turning pink.

"Was that supposed to be smooth?" you ask, tilting your head as the two of you reach the front door.

"Maybe," he shrugs, "did it work?"

You roll your eyes, but press a quick peck to his lips anyway. "You're lucky I love you, you know."

"Oh, trust me, I know." He chuckles softly, humming contentedly as you both step out into the night, cool air brushing against your skin.

You don't say anything, just reach for his hand and intertwine it with yours as you step away from the house party. The sounds of cheers and loud music fade away behind you, and all that's left is the warmth of your boyfriend's hand in yours - and really, you'd take that over watered-down drinks in a solo cup any day.

taglist for niki fics! <333 - @miniw0nz @microwvdstrawb3rri3s @charsworld96 @jenjnk @nocturnebite @nodoubtily @teireiii @starniras

[bruisedboys]

THUNDERBOLTS — what do you think each of their love languages is? Like they’re so damaged ik lol but I’m so interested to hear your take on this

okay sorry I kinda went in a total spiel here. I love my damaged freaks

the thunderbolts and their love languages (ft. bucky, john, bob & yelena x fem!reader)

bucky is an acts of service guy! he does so many things for you without you having to ask. he makes all your meals (unless you want a turn to cook, then he’ll let you of course, but you’re insane if you think he won’t at least try to help). he ties your shoelaces when they’ve come undone, even in the middle of the street or if it’s raining, he’ll still get down on one knee and do them for you. he refills your water bottle before you even realise it’s empty, he’ll drive you wherever you want to go, and he’ll always always holds the door for you (if you get it before him, he makes you go back inside so he can hold it for you). it’s all the little things but it’s the big things too, helping you bandage a wound when you get hurt, washing your hair when you’re tired or sick or just because! fixing your blocked drain or replacing the cracked tiles on your roof. he just loves doing things for you, whatever you want or need he’s at your beckon call. of course, he’s well aware you’re completely capable of looking after yourself, but he absolutely believes you shouldn’t need to lift a finger if you don’t want to, and he’s happy to lift his finger (or his whole arm) for you at any given time <3

john’s love language is physical affection! he’s not so good with words, so he tries to say what he feels with his hands instead. he’s very protective so he’s always got a hand on the small of your back or around your waist. when he’s driving he’ll almost always have his hand on your thigh, thumb rubbing circles into your jeans. when he’s talking to you he always has to be touching you, a big hand playing with your fingers while you tell him about your day, or his thumb massaging your neck while you watch a film together. he’ll never admit it to you, but he does it to make sure you’re real, that you won’t just slip away through his fingers like water. he’s worried enough you’ll leave him due to his asshole-like tendencies, but touching you and knowing you’re still right there makes him feel a bit less worried. he loves taking your face in both his hands to kiss you, or pulling you in by the waist, and he gets a kick out of manhandling you when you’re both in the mood for it. also, when he’s asleep he holds you so tight you have to shove him off lest you suffocate <3

for yelena, I think her love language is words of affirmation! she’s the opposite of john in that she’s very good with her words and knows exactly what to say and when to say it. she loves to use a plethora of pet names on you (sweetheart, pretty girl, my love), and she lovesss speaking in russian to you just to see you get flustered. she dishes out compliments so often that you should be used to it, but you’re not, and every time she does it you get shy. she’s always saying things like you look so pretty today, or I love that colour on you, or you did such a good job, baby in that silky smooth voice of hers, and your brain just goes haywire every time. she also never shies away from telling you how much she loves you, and therefore everyone else has to suffer through it too <3 (john blocks his ears whenever she gets all lovey dovey on you in his company)

bob’s love language I think is quality time! he’s never really had someone to love as much as he loves you so he wants to spend every waking second with you. he prefers staying in over going out, but if you want to go out he’s 100% gonna go with you. you tell him you’ve gotta run to the grocery store for five minutes and he’s immediately on his feet, tagging along under the pretence of “making sure nothing happens to you.” while he loves to plan cute dates so he can take you out and spoil you, he really loves to just sit with you at home, whether you’re talking or sitting in silence he doesn’t mind. he loves playing video games with you, cooking with you, going on walks with you, anything that means he gets to spend time in your company. he misses you like crazy when you’re apart, and when you’re together he’s stupid clingy but you don’t mind, and that’s why he loves you so much <3

[slutzforbueckers]

paige is a little exhausted from her big leadership role on the team and having to takeover in games. because of this she wants y/n to take charge and dominate her in the bedroom. like she is begging for it, on her stomach taking strap, maybe a little degradation and to just really lean into that submission from her. just as rough as you're comfortable writing.

let loose — p.b x fem!reader

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut

synopsis: paige comes home from a tiring game and you make it your mission to help her relax.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

you sat on the sofa with your phone in hand, you were scrolling through tiktok watching all the edits of tonights game. you couldn't make it to the actual game due to all the work you had to do but you did let it play on the tv in the background, tuning in every once in a while. the game was a rough one, you could see it on the girls faces, but nonetheless they won.

the sound of the front door slamming shut caused you to lift your head, you looked over your shoulder to see your girlfriend heading straight to your bedroom. paige didn't bother to speak, too tired and frustrated to open her mouth.

she slammed the bedroom door shut which made you toss your phone aside and make your way to the room. when you opened the door you spotted her laying flat on her stomach with her head buried in the pillows. you frowned at how exhausted she looked and quietly stepped into the room, closing the door behind you as gentle as you could.

you crawled in bed next to her and propped yourself up on your side, placing your right hand on her back and gently running lines up and down. paige hummed and turned her head to look at you, her eyes low with exhaustion.

“you played good.” you spoke softly, trying to lift her mood a bit. it didn’t work, paige just shrugged her shoulders and closed her eyes again. you took the moment to study her face, noticing the lines in her forehead from how she scrunched up her face and the slight frown on her lips.

you sat up and tossed your leg over her to straddle her back. you ran your hands up her back, noticing how tense she was, and to her hair so you could let her hair down. paige could admit that not having the tension of the ponytail in helped her relax a bit, evident by the way she sighs as her hair fell.

“that better?” you asked, running your fingers through her hair. paige hummed and nodded her head. you ran your hands up under her shirt and started to massage her muscles. “what else can i do?”

there was a moment of silence while you waited for her to answer, and then she spoke. a few quick, incoherent words flew past her lips and she buried her head into the pillows. you paused your hands and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“what did you say?” you asked, leaned into her to make sure you could hear this time. paige groaned and lifted her head, her cheeks pink with embarrassment.

“i wanna cum.” she said quickly and dropped her head back down. you stilled in shock, those being the last words you expected to hear tonight. you were silent for a minute while you gathered yourself.

“will that make you feel better?” you asked, taking your hands out from under her shirt and moving off her back. paige turned her head to look at you and nodded her head quickly. you bit your lip and nodded your head. “okay, i can do that.”

you leaned down and started to press soft kisses to her shoulder, moving along to her cheek and eventually her lips. paige pushed into you and you pushed back, you brought your hand up to cup her jaw and pushed her back until you were able to straddle her lap.

you gently tugged at her bottom lip with your teeth to get access to enter your tongue and with a barely audible whimper she let you in without a fight. you pulled back just enough to have her chasing your lips, grabbing at your hips in efforts to keep you on her. you opened your eyes to look at her before wrapping your hand around her throat and pushing her back down against the pillows, your lips crashing back into hers with more force than before.

paige could already feel the stress and pressure dissipating the longer you kissed her. the breath she released was shaky as you moved your lips over her cheek and down her jawline. you ran your hands under her shirt while you kissed the side of her neck. she arched into you when you pushed your hands under her bra.

you could feel her pulse on your lips, you could feel how her heart was racing but you knew it was for a good reason. she needed you and you weren’t going to deny her. you pulled your hands from under her shirt and moved off of her. “take your clothes off.”

she didn’t have to be told twice. paige sat up and immediately pulled her shirt over her head, followed by her bra, then her shorts, and finally her panties. you watched intently as she exposed herself to you. the second she had all of her clothes tossed somewhere off the bed, you were back on her.

“take yours off, please.” she whined, her hands already tugging your shirt up. you gave her what she wanted and tossed your clothes somewhere behind you. paige spread her legs and reached for your hand, she pressed your hand against her wet cunt and started to rock her hips into your hand slowly. “i need it, please.”

you sucked your teeth and shook your head, pushing her hand off of yours. you moved your hand so you could see how wet she was, not that you couldn’t feel it. “what do you need, paige? use your words.”

“i need to cum. i need your mouth, fingers, just something.” she begged. you hummed in satisfaction and brought your finger back to her cunt, running your fingertips through her slick and over her swollen clit. her thighs twitched as you lazily toyed with her clit, a quiet whimper leave her. “i need you to fuck me, please.”

you tore your eyes away from her pussy and looked her in the eye. it wasn’t often she wanted to use the strap—whether it was on you or her— she preferred to feel you directly. so, you always took the opportunity when it was presented.

paige groaned softly when you pulled away but quickly shut up when she realized you were going to get what she wanted. her eyes followed you to the closet and back, she watched as you fastened the harness on your body. paige reached out for you the second you were back within reach, pulling you back closer to her.

you leaned down and started to pepper kisses over her flushed skin. while you started to trace her hardened nipple with your tongue, you slid your middle finger into her simultaneously. paige released a breathy moan, her hand coming to rest at the back of your head. you switched sides to give her other tit the same attention.

you added another finger to the mix, earning a louder moan from the blonde. you started to move lower, kissing and running your tongue along her abs. you had always been obsessed with them, you had ridden them more times than you could count.

when your face was finally level with her cunt you immediately attached your mouth to her clit. the feeling of both your mouth and fingers had paige writhing, her hips starting to rut against your face. you glared at her, landing a harsh slap on her inner thigh. paige gasped at the sudden sting, a heat spreading throughout her body. “stop fucking moving or i’ll stop.”

“no! i’m sorry— don’t stop, please. please don’t stop.” her words came out so fast you almost couldn’t understand what was said. you draped your arm over her pelvis and pinned her down so she couldn’t move. times like this—when she really let you take control— made you grateful you didn’t have roommates.

paige wasn’t necessarily quiet when she was on the receiving end of the pleasure. well, she wasn’t quiet either way but she was louder when you pleased her. she made sure you knew how good you made her feel, how she loved every flick of your tongue and every curl of your fingers.

“m’so close.” she moaned, her hands fisting the sheets as she could feel herself quickly getting closer. you waited until you figured she was right on the edge before you pulled away, ripping her orgasm away from her. paige let out a choked moan as the build up of pleasure dissipated, her eyes flying open and she looked down at you. “why’d you stop?”

“you wanted me to fuck you, right?” you sat up from between her legs and moved off to the side of her, sitting up with your legs folded underneath you. paige nodded her head at your question, her gaze lowering to the strap between your legs. your nodded down, gesturing to the strap. paige positioned herself in front of you and wrapped her hand around the base of the strap.

you ran your fingers through her hair and gently nudged her forward. she pressed her lips to the tip of the dick, her tongue darting out to trace the underside. paige wrapped her lips around the strap, looking up at you as she started to lower her head. you used your grip on her hair to help guide her movements.

“there you go,” you cooed. you pushed her head down a bit more, making her gag and a stray tear to roll down her cheek. she closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. “what would everyone say if they knew how much of a slut you are, hm?”

paige moaned at your words, removing her hand from around the strap and placing them on your thighs. she was essentially giving you control, no longer moving her head. you started to lift your hips, moving her head to meet your thrust. her nails dug into your thighs and she looked up at you with watery eyes.

you bit down on your bottom lip and tugged her hair back, pulling her mouth off of you. you couldn’t help but groan at the way a string of spit connected the strap to her plump, pink lips and her eyes were glossed over with tears that hadn't fell.

"fuck, paige. lay down." you hardly gave her time to move on her own before you were pushing her down and flipping over so she was on her stomach. you placed your hand on her hip and lifted her up so her ass was slightly in the air, creating a small arch in her back. you wrapped your hand around the spit covered strap and guided the tip to her entrance, pressing your hips forward and sliding in.

"oh my god-" paige moaned at the stretch, her hands fisting the sheets beside her head. you stopped when you were halfway in to give her a moment to breathe. you ran your hands over her ass in the meantime. it seemed she didn’t need much time to adjust because a couple minutes later she was attempting to press back into you.

you pressed your hips forward and slid in to the hilt. you paused for a second before pulling back until just the tip was in and thrust back in. paige let out a strangled moan as you found a rhythm. her body was buzzing from how good she felt, she no longer thought about how she carried the weight of her team on her shoulders. she loved that she could just let go with you.

“h-harder, please, need more.” you grabbed her hips and lifted her up a bit, starting to fuck into her harder like she asked. the new angle caused the strap to shift and brush against her g-spot again and again. paige’s jaw dropped and her eyes rolled back, a moan— that was loud enough the neighbors could probably hear— flying past her lips. “right there— shit! don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

“right here?” you taunted, thrusting back in to the same spot. paige nodded her head dumbly, pressing her head into the mattress. you sucked your teeth and shook your head, slapping her ass hard. “use your fucking words.”

“yes! yes yes— s’so good! i’m so close, please— wanna cum!” her words were slurred and almost muffled from the way her cheek was pressed against the bed. she brought a hand down and started to rub quick, messy circles on her clit. paige was a whiny mess at this point, her words barely even words anymore. you rocked into her harder and you could feel her getting closer to the edge, her walls starting to close in on your cock and making it harder to move.

“go ahead, baby. cum for me.” you moaned, slapping her ass once more. you didn’t have to tell her twice. she let out a moan, that was nearing a scream, as her thighs started to shake. you kept fucking into her until you physically couldn’t, her cunt pushing you out with a gush of liquid. paige went limp, not being able to hold herself up. you couldn’t help the way you moaned at the sight of how wet everything was—her thighs, your thighs, the sheets underneath you. “oh my fuck.”

paige panted as she tried to catch her breath, she gathered enough strength to pull a pillow over her head to hide the way her face turned red with embarrassment. you had never seen her squirt before, you could feel your ego rising. you couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from your chest.

“stop laughing.” paige groaned, lifting the pillow off her head to toss it back at you. you mumbled a sorry and bit your lip to suppress your laugh. you helped her flip over so you could see her face.

“that was hot, p. must’ve felt good, huh?” you leaned over her and started to pepper kisses all over her face. she lightly shoved your shoulder and groaned, but she had a satisfied smile on her face the whole time. you pressed a loving kiss to her lips before leaning back to look into her eyes, getting serious now. “do you feel better? no more stress?”

paige nodded her head and ran her fingers up your arm, a soft hum leaving her. “much better.”

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧

[azzibuckets]

petty

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

4 times paige and azzi are petty and grumpy and sleepy but eventually make up + 1 time they’re petty and grumpy and don’t sleep ??

a/n: shit summary i know, lowkey just a bunch of drabbles that don’t make sense but kinda do

main masterlist | oneshots masterlist

word count: 4.3k

#1 October, 2020

“I can’t believe you pranked me like that.”

They’re holding hands, palms clammy and sweat intermingling in the space between their fingers, but Azzi holds on a little bit tighter. “It was pretty good, huh,” she brags, basking in the way Paige had completely believed her lie. Usually Paige is calm and collected, hard to fool—Azzi’s been losing their scare game for almost four months straight now. But her best friend’s reaction at dinner a few hours ago? Absolutely priceless.

Paige wrestles her hand out of Azzi’s grip and tucks it under her arm. “You made me cry,” she pouts, and it’s not like it’s particularly new to her—she’s more familiar with the feeling of crying with thoughts of Azzi, Azzi, Azzi running through her mind than she’d like to admit—but this time it had been different. It hadn’t been Azzi’s fault all those nights she’d sobbed herself to sleep thinking about how wrong it felt to feel so right with her best friend. Paige had been jokingly mad at first, but it slowly dawns on her that it had been embarrassing for Azzi, her parents, and Colleen to see her break down like that, from a prank as fucking trivial as a “gotcha!” when Azzi had said she was committing to UConn, something Paige had dreamed about for months. Her more than friendly feelings for Azzi had just been put on full blast, and there was no coming back from it now—she’d basically just announced to Azzi’s entire world that she had a big, fat crush on her, and from the look Colleen had sent her way when she’d returned to the table—curious but amused in a way only best friends can pick up on—it hadn’t gone unnoticed.

“Aw, you’re still mad.” A giggle escapes Azzi’s mouth, and the uncomfortable knot in Paige’s stomach coils tighter. Azzi reaches for Paige’s hand again, but the blonde is quick to push it away. “How long you gonna stay like this, miss grumpy pants?”

“For as long as I want,” Paige grumbles, steadfast in her long strides forward. Unfortunately, Azzi’s legs are just as long as hers, so the younger girl keeps in stride, and now on top of her bad mood, Paige is sweaty and slightly out of breath.

That night, Paige goes to bed first. It’s only 9 PM, and usually they stay up for at least half an hour, talking about anything and everything in bed, the darkness and stillness of night always making them a little bit more vulnerable and soft with each other. But if Paige is one thing, she’s stubborn. So when Azzi joins her in bed a few minutes later, freshly showered with the intoxicating smell of her Brazilian nut body lotion still lingering on her, Paige flips over to face the wall, squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as possible.

Azzi doesn’t say anything, though, merely nestling into her pillow with a content little hum as she opens her book, and that pisses off Paige even more. She hasn’t been trying to be petty all evening just for Azzi to start reading. Paige harrumphs to herself before beginning to work on her breathing, even and slow from the bottom of her lungs. She learned this technique a few years ago from a coach, after she’d shared her struggle of sleeping the night before big games. It’s helped her get rest despite nerves and anxiety and now the desire to turn around and give into the toucu of the girl she might be in love with.

It works, and Paige’s mind is turning into a fuzzy mush of half-consciousness when a voice, low and muffled, filters in. “Paige.”

Her name is whispered, faintly, and Paige thinks that Azzi sounds tired and will fall asleep soon enough, so she snuggles deeper into her bed in hopes that her best friend will leave her alone if she looks slumped enough.

“Paigeeeeyyyyy.”

Paige groans internally, still resisting the urge to turn around, but when Azzi gives her an aggressive tap on the shoulder, her desire to get this over with so she can finally rest wins out. “Mm.”

Azzi stays quiet, and Paige is about to get even more mad that she got disturbed for nothing, when the younger girl says quietly, “Can’t sleep, knowing you’re mad at me.” Paige can barely register Azzi’s words, doesn’t even know if she’s dreaming or awake, so she stays silent as the words float around in her brain. Then Paige feels a tug on her arm, and yup—she is unfortunately very much awake.

“Can we talk tomorrow? ‘M tired, Az,” she pleads sleepily, words barely coherent through the grogginess of her voice. There’s another tug, this time more insistent, as hands pry at her fingers, opening them just enough for Azzi’s hand to slip inside and tangle with her fingers. Paige knows that she should pull away, that her angry facade (that was never really strong to begin with) is weakening by the second, but Azzi’s hand is so soft and warm and fits so perfectly into hers that she subconciously relaxes into her touch.

“So are you mad at me?”

“Azzi, please.” Paige squeezes her hand, giving the bare minimum of reassurance as she begins to fall back asleep.

“Paige.”

“Not mad, baby,” she groans. “Just really fuckin tired.” Paige has never called Azzi that before, but it rolls naturally from her tongue, loose and soft in her drowsy state. She rolls over and throws her arm around the younger girl’s waist, pulling her back flush to her front. Azzi immediately takes her hand and lifts it to her cheek, nuzzling into the older girl’s palm, and immediately Paige finds any and all remnants of impatience leave her body. She can’t bring herself to be mad, not when Azzi, beautiful and sleepy, is curled into her body, warm skin all over hers, loose curls tickling her chin. My baby, Paige thinks.

“Are you sure?” Azzi murmurs into Paige’s hand, lips barely brushing her skin but still making her feel light-headed all over. “I didn’t know it would make you this upset.” She kisses the little scar below Paige’s index finger, where a girl had scratched her during jump ball of a pickup game.

“Yes, I’m sure.” Paige’s lips graze Azzi’s hair in return, feather light and barely perceptible. “Good night Azzi.” Then, “I love you.”

She can feel Azzi smile against her hand, can feel her dimple in the groove of her thumb. It makes her smile too. “I love you too.”

#2 November 2021

“Paige, it’s almost midnight.” Azzi throws an arm over her face. The lights in her best friend’s room are especially blinding today, and they don’t help the small headache that’s been throbbing at her temples sporadically throughout the day, likely the product of being stressed out all week for her presentation in marketing combined with the physical exhaustion of Geno’s sadistic conditioning sets.

“Yeah, I know.” Paige hunches forward, eyes trained on the screen as her thumbs fiddle over the controller.

Azzi turns around and buries her face into her pillow. “Don’t you think it’s time to go to bed?” And yes, maybe she’s calling Paige to bed because she always feels the most well-rested after a night of cuddling to sleep, and the bed tonight especially feels too cold for just one person. But Azzi knows the endless teasing she’d get if she admitted to being clingy, and she’s not really in the mood for that right now, so she adds quickly, “We got lift early tomorrow.”

“Shit, that was close, KK,” Paige says into her mic before refocusing her attention back to Azzi. “Nah, I’m good. You go to sleep.” She glances behind her momentarily, and seeing the exhaustion in the younger girl’s face, her eyes soften. She opens her mouth to add something, probably a comforting line that always picks up Azzi’s mood a little bit, but then KK says something in her headset and she turns back around to her screen and laughs.

“Okay, whatever.” Azzi picks up her pink blanket and throws it over her shoulder, and when Paige still doesn’t turn around, she aggressively takes off the Hopkins sweater she’d been wearing and tosses it forcefully on the bed.

“Yo, where are you going?” Paige finally tears her eyes away from the screen when Azzi’s hand lands on the door handle, eyes narrowing.

“To sleep.”

“Sleep?” Paige lifts her headset to hear better. “In your room?”

“Yes, Paige, I’m tired and I don’t know what you replaced your light bulbs with but they’re way too fucking bright.”

“I didn’t even choose the high brightness bulb,” Paige mutters. “It’s only 1200 lumens.” When Azzi sends her a glare, she straightens up in her seat. “Just go back to bed, I’ll play with the lights off,” she reasons, immediately reaching for the switch in the corner of the room.

“Nah, I’m really tired and I just wanna go to sleep.” Azzi opens the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“KK, gimme a sec.” Paige tosses her headset off completely, fingers drumming against the desk. “Bro, you mad at me or something?”

“I’m not mad at you,” Azzi says. And it’s not really a lie—she’s not mad at Paige, but she is mad at something, and she doesn’t even know why. She’s grumpy and she’s tired and she’s probably starting her period soon and she wants to cuddle Paige but she doesn’t know how to say that, or if she can even say that when her and Paige have been stuck in this halfway limbo for months, of tiptoeing the line between best friends and soemthing more. And thinking about that just makes her more upset, and now all she wants to do is curl up into a ball on the floor and cry.

“Okay, then…” Paige looks around helplessly. “Then why are you leaving my room all angry? Thought you were gonna sleep over.”

“Why do you even want me in your bed if you’re gonna be up all night gaming?”

“I literally said half an hour more, like, ten minutes ago.” Paige reaches for the mic, quickly muttering a, “Hey, sorry to end early but I gotta go,” before shutting off her console and standing up to eye level with Azzi. “You’re definitely mad.”

“Stop saying that!” Azzi rubs her forehead, where her headache has turned into a stabbing pain. “I don’t even know why I even sleep over so much in the first place.”

“Why?” Paige’s eyebrows knit together in genuine confusion.

“Don’t you think it’s weird I’m in your bed, like, three days a week? We’re not even dating.” She says this proddingly, hoping to get something out of the blonde that will push them over the line of friends into the territory of more. 


“So?” Paige looks even more lost. “Why does it matter whether we’re dating or not? I like sleeping with you.”

Azzi blinks. Now they’re ten steps back and nowhere even close to the line anymore. “Whatever, Paige.”

“Wow, okay.” Paige picks up remote. She knows that Azzi hates it when she acts indifferent—the thought of things not riling her the way it does Azzi always pushes her nerves even more. But Paige is nineteen, and she’s petty, and she’s mad at her best friend for being mad at her, so she starts playing her show, obnoxiously loud, as Azzi puts on her shoes.

“Good fucking night,” Azzi calls over her shoulder. She only gets a scoff in response.

When she gets to her room, her mind’s running too haywire to even think of trying to sleep, so she steps in the shower, turning the water as hot as she can stand. It burns, slightly, but it takes her mind off all the shit going on and it feels good.

When she hears the door open, she doesn’t turn around. She feels the shower curtain ripple and feels hands encircle her waist, gently and reverently, but she stares at the wall in front of her.

“You crying, mama?”

“Not crying.”

Paige turns her around and presses her thumbs to her cheeks, eyes scanning hers. “You always shower whenever you feel like crying.”

Azzi buries her face into her neck. Her tears mix with the water, and her shoulders shake, but Paige holds her through it all. “Water’s too hot, baby,” the older girl murmurs. She reaches behind her, twisting the knob, but her other arm stays tightly wrapped around Azzi’s hip. That’s the thing about Paige, Azzi thinks—she can’t let go, she won’t let go, and she holds on even when it kills her. The water cools down a little. “It’s not good for you.”

“All of a sudden you know what’s good for me?” Azzi laughs, dry but not unkind.

“You know I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” The water runs between them, heat and steam curling between their bodies, sticking to the sheen of their foreheads and the glistening of their skin.

“Which part?” Azzi mumbles into her chest.

Paige tucks her cheek against the younger girl’s shoulder. She closes her eyes, letting herself feel the unyielding press of her bodies, their nakedness, how they’re holding each other so tightly that if they let go, they’ll stumble and fall. “It does matter to me.” She knows Azzi can barely hear her over the spray of the water, the splattering beneath their feet, but she’s not brave enough yet to say the words any louder. “Azzi.” She whispers her name like a plea, like a prayer. “Does it matter to you?”

Azzi looks at the love of her life, blonde hair turning dark and limp under the water, face bare and so full of emotion she has to look away for a moment. Azzi touches her face, fingers tracing dark eyebrows, brushing down the apples of her cheeks, gripping the firmness of her chin. It’s a familiar path she’s traced about half a million times, but not once has it felt like hers. Not until now. “I’ve loved you so long,” she whimpers. “I’ve loved you long that it feels wrong to say it out loud.”

The air leaves Paige all at once, and she slumps in relief. Azzi kisses her eyelids. They stand under the water, hearts beating in sync, mouths moving against each other as lips and tongues meet, until it turns cold and they shiver. Even then, they stay, each reluctant to be the first to let go.

#3 January, 2022

Azzi’s thirteen tabs and two coffees deep into her research when Paige pulls up, wrapped in a thick red blanket and slides on her feet. Without a word, she moves Azzi’s backpack to the ground and makes herself comfortable on the seat next to her. Within seconds, she’s sprawled out on the table next to a scattered array of pencils and pens and half a dozen packets, head in her hands and blanket still wrapped snugly around every inch of her body.

Azzi takes off her her headphones. She has to nudge the older girl about seven times before one of her eyes crank open. “What’re you doing?”

“It’s twelve am and you’re here in this empty ass library studying by yourself.”

“Paige, I lift more than you. I’ll be fine.”

“First of all, not true. It’s definitely true. Second of all, what kinda girlfriend would I be if I left you here to walk home all alone in the middle of the night?” She stifles a yawn with a hand over her mouth. “Bad girlfriend,” she murmurs. “Bad, bad girlfriend.” Paige drops her head onto her arms and promptly falls back asleep.

“Baby, you’re sick.” Azzi curls a wild strand of hair behind her ear. Paige had woken that morning unusually clingy, with a bit of an attitude, and it had only taken a few seconds for Azzi to think of checking for a fever. Paige was always a big baby whenever she was sick, her first symptom before coughs or headaches or anything. “Go home.”

“Nah.” Paige bumps her knee against Azzi’s under the table, still not looking up. “Wanna be with you.”

Honestly, Azzi wouldn’t mind the company, but then her breath starts whistling out, raspy and wheezing. “Paige, go back to your room. Seriously.” Azzi is unable to soften the annoyance in her tone. “You’re sick and you need to sleep.”

“Baby, let me stay,” Paige begs. “‘M fine, I swear.” She looks up and smiles as if to prove it, but Azzi only grimaces at how pale she looks.

“Paige.”

“Fine.” Paige is sick and annoyed and she doesn’t understand why her girlfriend wants her to go away, and honestly she’d rather be in a library with bright sterile lights, back aching hunched over a desk, than alone in her room, in cold sheets. She leaves quite grumpily, her blanket trailing sadly and dragging on the ground behind her, and Azzi sighs before resuming her work.

It’s almost three in the morning when Azzi finishes up. She thinks about Paige, sleeping alone in her bed, but then decides against disturbing the older girl and heads to her own room. She wakes up past her alarm clock, a product of a mere four hours of sleep, and drags herself through practice. Paige isn’t there until it’s time for film.

“Honey,” Nika giggles when she appears in the doorway, ghost-white with red-rimmed eyes and an even redder nose, box of tissues tucked under one elbow and bottle of water in hand. “In the nicest way possible, you look like shit.” The whole team cackles, and the senior throws up a middle finger before quickly getting chastised by CD.

“Never say I’m not locked in,” Paige grumbles, making her way dazedly to the first row of seats before tossing herself dramatically in her usual chair.

Azzi leans in from the row behind, unsure if Paige is still upset from the night before. “How you feeling?” she whispers.

“Awful.” The blonde lifts her hand, grasping for Azzi’s. Relieved, Azzi slips her hand in the space between the seats and squeezes it. “You didn’t come back last night.”

“Didn’t wanna wake you up.” Azzi kisses the back of her hand. “You sleep okay?”

“Woulda slept better with you,” Paige says, a little too loud, and Nika and Aaliyah both cringe next to them, disgust written on their faces.

“You two done fondling each other or can we start watching film?” KK snickers from behind them, causing another ripple of laughter to run through the room. Paige turns to CD, pointing at KK with her mouth agape, but the coach only shrugs, her lips twitching.

“Rigged,” Paige mutters as Geno walks in and the team settles down. “This whole system is rigged against us.”

Azzi giggles, squeezing Paige’s hand one last time before letting go. “Try not to fall asleep during film.”

“No promises.”

Naturally, Paige falls asleep during film. When the last of the freshmen filter out, Azzi hops over the row and gets comfortable in the seat besides Paige, lifting up the armrest divider so she can pull the older girl onto her lap. Azzi combs through her hair, pressing a kiss to her sweaty forehead. She can feel her girlfriend’s pulse against her skin, erratic and feverish. “You’re a big baby when you’re sick,” she mutters affectionately, thumb rubbing circles into her hip.

Paige stirs, never one to let Azzi get the last word, even when she’s asleep. “Am not.” As soon as Azzi’s hand stills on her scalp, she nuzzles her head into it. Rolling her eyes, Azzi continues playing with her hair.

Somehow, they both end up asleep on the chairs, TV still playing a clip from last week’s practice and lights still on, and when CD walks past and sees her two star players slumped in the 2.5 million dollar facility like it’s their own personal bedroom, she has half a mind to go chew them out. But when Paige mumbles something in her sleep and Azzi nuzzles closer into her, snores filling the room, she rolls her eyes and decides jay her lecture can wait for later.

#4 April 2025

Paige may be a newly crowned national championship, but she’s hungover, and she’s exhausted, and she’s cross with Azzi because she’d told her to save her a seat on the bus only for her to board and see Morgan sitting happily next to her girlfriend, the two of them chatting it up like they’ve always been best friends.

Ordinarily, she’d use her super senior authority to kick the freshman out of her seat, but her headache had been throbbing and her throat sore from all the drinks she’d had, like, five hours prior, so she’d flopped down in the last row and gone right to sleep, still dreaming of confetti and shots.

One of the assistant coaches had to wake her up after they’d arrived at the airport, so she’d boarded the plane last, and seeing Azzi now sitting with Caroline, she’d flopped down again in the nearest seat and, aggrieved, pulled out the neck pillow from her backpack with such aggression that Kaitlyn had winced and scooted further away. Was she so wrong for wanting her own personal human pillow and not this stupid little rainbow headrest?

Paige falls back into slumber, only to be waken up by the sound of shuffling next to her. She turns her head, about to make a passive aggressive comment to Kaitlyn, but blinks when she sees two braids and a grin. “Hey, baby,” she greets, leaning in for a kiss but Paige swerves her.

“What happened to saving me a seat on the bus?”

One of Azzi’s eyebrow scrunches down, and Paige curses her girlfriend for being so impossibly cute when she’s trying to stay mad at her. “When did you ask me to save you a seat on the bus?”

“Like, two nights ago.”

Azzi scratches her head. “Baby, how am I supposed to remember you asking me to save you a seat on the bus two nights ago?”

Paige sniffs.

Azzi kisses her cheek. “I’m sorry, okay? We’ve had a lot of drinks since then. My mind has been a lil fuzzy.”

“Okay.” Paige smiles. “Apology accepted.”

Azzi shakes her head. “Can I have a kiss now?”

Paige cups her cheek and kisses her, long and slow, relishing in the fact that she’s a national champion kissing another national champion, or more specifically, the Final Four Most Outstanding Player, her most outstanding player, and her tongue swipes at Azzi’s bottom lip eagerly before they’re broken apart by a loud shriek.

“Nooo!” KK wails. “I did not just see y’all fornicating over my baby.” Pushing her way into the row, she picks up the trophy and cradles it in her arms.

“So dramatic,” Azzi laughs, until KK’s stormy eyes are turned on her and it quickly dies in her throat.

“This,” she says emphatically, “is coming with me. To sit between me and Ice. While y’all make out and do whatever you wanna do.” Shivering, she steps carefully down the aisle, still stroking the trophy and cursing under her breath.

Raising an eyebrow, Paige sits back into her seat, letting out a long exhale.

“Well.” Azzi unbuckles her seatbelt and slips into the middle seat. “Now that that’s out of the way.”

Paige grins and pulls her in again.

#5 sometime in the future idk

Their daughter is in the next room, babbling to herself. She’s clueless, blissfully happy in her two year old world of stuffed animals and play pens, and Paige wishes she could be with her, holding her favorite person in the world as she reads her her favorite book, the one with the red pig and black giraffe. Instead, Paige stands in the dim glow of the room, facing the harsh reality of her thirty one year old world as she stares at her wife. The aftermath of their last argument is vivid around them—in the two separate beds, both rumpled and slept in, pillows worn with tear tracks, and in the empty bottle of wine on the dresser besides Azzi’s bed and the crumpled up cans of beer in the trash can by Paige’s suitcase, and in the way Azzi’s entire body is stiff, spine rigid against her back, turned away from Paige like she can’t even look at her.

“This schedule. It’s getting too hard on her.”

“Did she tell you that herself?”

“Any sane parent knows that it’s not reasonable for a child to be flying across half the country every two weeks.”

“It’s not every two weeks. Don’t be dramatic.”

“Azzi.”

“Paige.”

“What’s your solution? We’ve been trying to get on the same team for two years and it hasn’t fucking worked yet. You think I don’t want her to grow up in a more stable home, with two parents who can be together for longer than a week half the year?”

Paige’s shoulders sag. “I don’t know.”

“We’ve been going in circles for months.” Azzi opens the mini fridge, reaching inside, but Paige closes it, firmly.

“I don’t think we should keep drinking away our problems.”

Azzi’s fingers flex. “What are you insinuating about me?”

“Azzi. Please.”

Paige wraps her arms around Azzi’s shoulders. Azzi sinks into her. “We’ll figure it out,” the blonde murmurs. “We’ll figure something out. Let me talk to my agent again. We’ll set up a meeting with yours and they’ll work out a plan.”

Azzi curls into her chest. “I don’t like arguing with you.”

Paige traces patterns over her nape, where her curly little baby hairs meet the warm skin of her neck. “I can’t stand when you’re over there in the other bed.” She looks into the eyes she’s loved for so long, still as doe brown since the day they met. “Sleep with me tonight. Please.”

Azzi stands between her legs, in her little pajama shorts and tank top. At thirty years old, she’s more beautiful than ever, Paige thinks. Her cheeks are fuller now, eyes more creased but still betraying her every emotion. She’s all muscle, seasoned from years in the league and having welcomed one too many rookies. Paige’s hand falls down her leg, down the dip in her hip to the smoothness of her thigh, tracing down her calf. Azzi sucks in a breath, the feeling of Paige’s fingers ghosting over her sensitive spots causing her head to tip back and moan.

Azzi presses herself achingly, wantingly into Paige’s touch before she connects their lips. Azzi kisses her like she’s beautiful, like she’s fucking precious, all gently and softly and tentatively. She kisses her like she’s still a school girl with a crush, like she can’t really believe it’s happening. Paige feels delicate in Azzi’s hands, and she loves it. Azzi kisses her like she’s afraid that if she stops, the world will come shattering down around them. Maybe it will. Maybe it won’t. Right now, with Azzi whimpering into her mouth and making all those little sounds that has Paige pushing against her, fingers digging into her waist with desire, Paige can’t seem to really care.

In the early light of morning, Azzi leans on her elbow, tracing words on the older girl’s spine, fingertips dragging sleepily across the ridges of her muscle and a couple of old scars. She presses a kiss to the hollow of her back. It makes Paige feel ticklish, and she squirms and flips onto her back to stare up at her. “My wife,” Paige whispers, hands going to caress her cheeks, making sure that she’s real, that she’s still hers. “My baby.”

[wordsofwhimsy]

did somebody ask which version of mark is puttin it down best?

guess i'll give my analysis 😮‍💨

main!mark is all about pleasing you, sooo he's definitely giving the other boys a run for their money. his oral & finger game? UNMATCHED. he's not dumb and aggressive about it like the majority of the others. he keeps it slow, intentional, so dedicated, living in your pleasure. the more praise you give him the better. his sex game tho takes awhile to come up to par - he's so scared of hurting you for soo long that he just takes it too easy, or doesn't take the lead at all. once he learns the fine art of blowing your back out without killing you tho? 😏

mohawk!mark is soo aggressively fun, but he's really only in it for his own pleasure. he kinda just assumes (rightly so) that you're gonna feel good either way but he never bothers to actually check in with you, see how you're doing lol it's probably also a MUST for you to suck his dick every time, forcing your head down and then mocking you when you gag or gasp for air. he doesn't care to return the favor too often but if you whine too much he will. it's not really that great tho - he's rushing and careless, just trying to move on to the main event

viltrumite!mark takes some teaching. he's of the mindset that sex is just for procreation, and if this is a scenario where he's taken you back to viltrum he's not going to really feel the need to view it any other way. but if he's staying on earth with you? well, sex sells baby and the influence is all around. he starts noticing things in movies and in songs, stuff on the internet--hell even billboards and magazines. don't be fooled his dickin is good even when it's boring missionary but once he starts coming around to trying all the other fun things? oh lawd have mercy

omni!mark is an interesting mix of dominance without aggression, no dirty talk. all business, really but this man IS in the business of pleasure - for you at least. he struggles to let you take the lead though which is kinda boring sometimes, and anything kinky? like spanking or choking? absolutely not. you're not some scallywag hoodlum (LMFAO) and he's definitely not going to treat you like one. buuut if you start talking dirty and cussing? he might be flustered, and maybe even a little more turned on than usual (he'd never admit it)

sinister!mark is all about HIM HIM HIM. but the caveat of this is he needs to know he's GOOD at what he's doing - which means you need to feel good too. he's so unbelievably aggressive and doesn't do missionary. you are not coming away without bruises and marks every single time. i think he likes to make you dance for him too beforehand. that's his idea of foreplay - something that reminds you both who's in charge and who it's all for. you better hope he's not in the mood to go down on you cause that bitch bites 😭

no goggles/lensless!mark is probably my fav 🤭 is literally 100% about whatever it is you're into. i guess except missionary whoops. like he's fine throwing it in there occasionally but not a chance he's opening or ending in that position. in fact switching positions is HIS personal favorite thing. honestly his oral is so-so. he's just too damn talkative and can't focus on the task at hand. he also doesn't take it well either - the man's LOUD. and honeestly busts pretty quick but that's okay! he bounces back quicker. viltrumite stamina is crazy and his libido just adds to it

shiesty!mark has probably fucked more people than all of them combined so, yeah, he's got the practice and experience. he KNOWS his dick is phenomenal and tbh if he's not really into you he's letting you do most of the work. he thinks he's doing YOU favor by letting you ride it. but if you were hard to get? ohhh he's got something to prove now, and trust he will. this man reaches spots none of the others even knows exist, uses his strength in a way that is just chefs kiss - pinning you without hurting you, playing with your nipples and the other sensitive parts with expert care. and probably my fav thing about him is that he's the only one (except maybe main!mark) who ever thinks to put on musiccc

moustache!mark is 😛 father dearest. TOTALLY showing you what it feels like to be owneddd - unquestionably, but not in the way sinister does. he does it with affection. you know, like a 'pet' and all that jazz. he's got this way of making you feel simultaneously small and like the most important person in the world. and when he goes down on youuu? THE TICKLE?? biiitch stop. he also is the one who appreciates the thickies the most ughh like he NEEDS all that ass in his hands, in his lap, on his dick. the love handles? the tummy? give him alllat - trust ☝️ he can handle it

prisoner!mark is an interesting one. if we're talking straight out the pen? he's an ANIMAL. i'm talking y'all are going at it aaall night long, him painfully impatient through every little break you insist he gives you. he's also physically the strongest of them all, and, yeah, it shows. all that body pressed into you? those arms? 🥴 idk how anatomically that would even work but for some reason i feel like he'd have a thicker cock too. he'd be so deep and guttural with his groans, all in your ear with it. no holding back. after some time though i think he'd be focused on you and learning what you like - buuut at the end of the day, he still is the most deprived and wants it ALWAYS

[hoshifighting]

Who in seventeen -condom Or no condom? 🫣

(It's not about babies tho)

seungcheol: no condom. likes to fill u up mostly of the times, but is the king of “pull out before cumming” also, he’s that guy who’s always clean and careful, so he’s confident.

jeonghan: depends on his mood, honestly. he’d do a quick mental math on how risky it is and ur preference, then throw you a “are we feeling wild today?” smirk.

joshua: condom, 100%. it’s not even up for debate in his mind. he’s the “safety first, babe” type, with that angelic smile to back it up.

jun: not condom. he’d straight-up admit he prefers the “feel” and would say it with zero shame, something like “it’s just better that way, we know it.” but of course, he respects what you want primarily.

hoshi: both. he’d probably just say “whatever you want,” completely open and happy either way, and he’d be equally hyped regardless! but he’s definitely the one fumbling with it for five minutes trying to open the packet and going “hold on, almost got it…”

wonwoo: condom, and he’s bringing extra. probably has them stashed all over just in case because he’s too low-key organized for any slip-ups.

woozi: no condom. doesn’t want anything between him and feeling every single thing. he’s picky, probably thinks “nicer this way” but he’s respectful and will always check if you’re cool with it. when its “yes condom” day, he would buy those “feel everything” condoms.

minghao: not condom. “if we’re serious, we’re serious,” he’d say with a cool shrug, seeing it as a natural sign of trust between you two.

mingyu: hesitates for a second, then condom. he’d be like, “i mean... unless...?” but he’d end up using it, muttering about how it’s the smart move.

seokmin: condom. would have options like he’s running a variety pack sale, giving you choices and making it fun. (would have neon ones that shine in the dark???)

seungkwan: condom. the cautious type, he’d make it super smooth, though, like it’s no big deal—like he should.

vernon: surprisingly no condom, because he’s got the “i mean, are we worried?” vibe—only if u are fully on board, though, otherwise he’s switching up real fast.

chan: condom, because it's a habit for him, but there’s a hint of “unless we’re feeling risky?” sometimes, that’ll make u laugh.

[wayward-stardust]

been thinking about how none of the adults in the isat party really had any plans for after defeating the king. it wasn't just siffrin! even as early as acts one and two, it's hinted at if you pay close enough attention to the dialogue.

isabeau brings up his dream of becoming a clothing designer exactly once: in loop zero. before fighting the king. when the thought of actually winning is still a hope rather than a reality.

as soon as that happens, his story changes.

he plans on taking up his old job again. the one he quit to support mira. the one he said he wouldn't go back to, in a timeline that's been long since overwritten. which may feel like a contradiction, but a) this isabeau never had that first conversation with sif and b) the atmosphere's completely shifted with everything else that's happened over the past day.

isa's supposed to be the rock of the party (pun intended). the emotional support. and now, he's supposed to be celebrating their victory, and ruining the mood by admitting he's not going back to anything meaningful would be breaking the persona he's worked so hard to craft. (also this dialogue occurs immediately after isa fails to confess to siffrin, which might have affected his mindset)

and even in that first scene, back at the favor tree in loop zero, isabeau's still unsure of himself.

he willingly admits to sif that he, too, doesn't have anything else planned for after. (in act one, where it's so easy to forget by the time sif actually succeeds). why would he? his closest friends are traveling with him. he's not particularly close with his blood family (especially after his change, i imagine, although he never talks about them enough to say for certain.) he abandoned his career that he no longer likes.

mirabelle, on the other hand, is very committed to staying a housemaiden. her original plan (in act one) for after is to start traveling again and go on her own pilgrimage. but, to me, it's never really felt like that's what she wanted to do, but more like what she felt she had to do.

she needs to go on a pilgrimage to change. because she's a housemaiden, which means prioritizing change, and she's already not dating and not getting bonded and not capital-c Changing so she has to make up for that elsewhere, and if even this whole journey to save vaugarde didn't change her she has to try harder, (and what she wants is to keep traveling with her friends but she's not going to admit that,) and... and so she has to!

even so, like isabeau, those initial goals fade away once she's actually defeated the king.

her dreams of continuing to travel and see the world and change things are replaced with just... staying at home. living in dormont. going back to her normal life. maybe, we can hope, part of that's because of the conversations she's had along the way — either her friendquest with siffrin or the whole "not being blessed by the change god" snack room discussion, alongside euphrasie's praise of her. maybe she's grown more comfortable with her relationship with her faith and her home (particularly in a friendquest run).

or maybe she's like isabeau and siffrin, wanting more out of her future but being unwilling to potentially sour the mood by asking for it. i suspect it's both, actually: she gets some character growth from the finale of her journey, but there's no way all her feelings of inadequacy can be erased in a day. she knows better than to actually admit that, though: after all, everyone else seems happy with their plans! they're the odd one out here!

madame odile’s the only one who keeps her story straight between iterations — no matter when siffrin asks her, she's still deciding whether to keep traveling or go home to ka bue.

(act 1 "what will you do after" conversation)

(act 2/3/4 end room conversation)

but, as she brings up at the end of act 5, that's not the whole story. she'd prefer to keep traveling with at least some of the others, but the whole group’s a bunch of blinding cowards she hasn’t found the right time to ask yet. unlike isabeau and mirabelle (particularly the post-King versions of them), odile's not hiding the fact that she's unsure of her plans. after all, she's more confident in herself and her goals: in fact, she's already succeeded at her goal of learning more about vaugarde.

like the two of them, though, there's still the uncertainty. the not being confident in what to do next. the thought of going home feels like an afterthought, almost. isabeau even says it, in act five.

it's what they "should" do next. what they're expected to do. what they all think everyone else wants to do.

but none of them really want to go home.

not siffrin, without a home to go back to. not odile, both ka buan and vaugardian by blood but never finding a true home in either. not mirabelle, growing beyond the home that she never felt comfortable in. not isabeau, leaving behind his home because he didn't like the person he was there.

or maybe they do want to go home — or more precisely, to stay there.

home is where your family is, after all.

[kiana12113]

JEALOUS HEADCANONS

For most of the Van Der Linde Gang ୨୧

➤ Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Micah Bell, Dutch Van der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Josiah Trelawny, Kieran Duffy, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire, Lenny Summers, Sadie Adler, Karen Jones, Mary-Beth Gaskill, Molly O’Shea x F!Reader

Note: you ever just pull something out of your ass and it… works?

ARTHUR MORGAN

He can’t help it sometimes. The way he handles his jealousy varies, but most of the time, he would want to bottle it up - thinking it’s a silly thing. You weren’t making him jealous, he knows that. He’s making himself, due to the severe lack of self-esteem he has.

At first, the man would watch silently, observing how happy you looked. Sure, he could use some attention, too — he thinks, but there isn’t any harm with you having fun. Although the man can’t help but frown at the sight.

He doesn’t want to confront you. If he ever decides to stop watching you like a hawk — he would stand beside you and flash a raised eyebrow. “Hey, honey.”

“Who… ya talkin’ to?”

It’s pretty obvious, even though he likes to believe it isn’t.

JOHN MARSTON

He notices your prolonged attention and time spent with someone, and he doesn’t mind — at first. He convinces himself you’ll stop soon, and you’ll be left alone. But it doesn’t.

He spends the whole day sulking, trying to do other things, but his thoughts still linger. He wishes it was him, why couldn’t it just be him? He was right there.

The man, who tries to talk, is kind of stubborn. “Think that’s enough, talkin’ to my wife.” He states simply. But there’s something deeper within his words.

He has a stupid-looking scowl on his face, whispering to himself and crossing his arms. “I don’t like how he’s lookin’ at ya.”

MICAH BELL

He won’t admit it — but under that façade of not caring, there’s a sliver of it under his thick skin. But he wouldn’t act on it, no, you could do whatever the hell you wanted.

He’s quiet, like always, but a little bit more this time, looking at you with simple glances occasionally as he sharpens his knife. The man lets out a groan of pain when he accidentally cuts himself. “Great.” And he realizes, he won’t stop thinking about it, will he?

“Who were ya talking to?” He asks. When you ask him why, he avoids the question. “No reason.”

He’ll never admit he gets jealous, however, his tense mood looms over wherever he goes.

DUTCH VAN DER LINDE

When Dutch is jealous, he’s jealous. A marathon of thoughts run in his mind like a train. Why would she be smiling and laughing with another man’s presence, rather than his? No, it’s unacceptable.

The man approaches you immediately. No time for dilly-dallying, and he just can’t take in the sight. “Wat’cha doin’, sweetheart?” There’s something amusing about the way he’s placed a hand on your hip, trying his best to be able to smile, at least.

Dutch who doesn’t really explain why he’s acting this way, but it’s obvious with his actions alone, taking you away for himself and his attention all on you.

HOSEA MATTHEWS

He knows and trusts you enough not to get jealous. He knows you love him as much as he does. Although, maybe, in his most vulnerable times, he does — just once.

He looks at you from afar, with an uncertain look in his face. He’s gotten a little uneasy, sipping a cup of coffee that doesn’t even taste like anything. He tries to read newspaper, but the words just look like gibberish. The man shakes his head, how silly of him. He hasn’t felt this in a while.

He waits until the end of the day, trying his best to shake the feeling off. But it doesn’t, and you notice. “Can you believe it? I actually got jealous.”

Just kiss him, and he’ll be alright.

CHARLES SMITH

He isn’t jealous, he convinces himself. But there’s something about it. He doesn’t like it. He doesn’t like feeling this way — after all, he knows you were merely talking withs someone else.

Someone else who isn’t him.

He shakes the thought off. You’ll later find Charles oddly pushing himself with hunting and chores, glistening in sweat and heat.

He’ll be quiet, at first, when asked — appearing calm. But his thoughts are the complete opposite. It doesn’t take a genius to realize his inner turmoil.

He’ll tell you the truth, though. He always does. He just needs a little reassurance.

JAVIER ESCUELLA

It’s hard to mask his jealousy when his face uncontrollably grimaces. He’s upset, walking around, in a bad mood. He’ll tie his hair messily. He’ll strum the strings of his guitar with irritation. He’ll twist the pegs, completely absent-minded, trying to tune it, as the string snaps directly on his nose bridge.

He curses under his breath. He gets up, holds your hand tightly, and leads you away, without explanation.

“I’m jealous.” He says, blood running down his nose. “And I’ve made it obvious, you know.” Javier looks like a wet cat.

“What was so important with him, anyway?” He asks, with a scoff. He’s trying to act tough, but he’s currently got himself buried in your arms, with a bandage on his nose.

SEAN MACGUIRE

There’s no one more dramatic than him. A day without interaction would, and does drive him crazy — if he already isn’t. A jealous Sean jokes around, teases you, tries to get your attention. This trick usually works.

But it doesn’t, today. He’s walking, following you around, watching you talk to everyone except him. Times are busy, he’s afraid, you’ll find someone else who’s better than him.

For once, he’s a little serious. Nervous, on his toes. He’s murmuring, and laughing awkwardly as he stands there. “Me? Jealous? No, no. I don’t get jealous, hah.”

“I am…”

LENNY SUMMERS

He’s had his hands tucked in his pockets for a while now, trying to understand what he was feeling, exactly. He waited around, kicking some rocks. He didn’t want to seem upset, but he was. No doubt.

Poor boy. Lenny doesn’t want to say anything, he doesn’t want to talk to you about it. He didn’t want to seem selfish, or come off in that way. But he couldn’t stop stealing glances at your figure, his thoughts may as well eating him up alive.

His actions are off — uncoordinated, distracted, thinking endlessly. He can’t help it. “Are you busy?”

His jealousy is silent, but not towards you, specifically. He’ll open up, when he’s holding your hands tenderly, but won’t reveal the thoughts of uncertainty that once skipped in his mind.

KIERAN DUFFY

It’d be hard for him to accept the fact that he’s jealous. He’ll deny himself most of the time. But he was, and he knew it. He’d been brushing Branwen’s mane for about fifteen minutes now, unable to tear his eyes away.

He’s not sure what he’s doing, exactly, when he coughs behind you and looks at whoever you were with. “Hey, ah… Who’s this?”

For now, he’ll have to push away his own needs, and he understands that. But he’ll be beside you, curling his fingers between yours, interlocking it tightly.

JOSIAH TRELAWNY

There’s enough confidence in him to reassure himself and let you be, most of the time. Although that doesn’t mean he’s not needy. That, he will be.

There’s a loneliness that creeps up his chest when he isn’t with you, when he’s away. He’ll think about you. Trelawny squints his eyes at the person in front of you, taking a bit too much of your time for his liking. As he says, it ‘pains him not being near you.’

“My dear, why don’t we go ahead now?” He coos sweetly. He’s trying his hard, and his best, to be cute. He grins when he wins, celebrating like a child and taking your hand in his.

SADIE ADLER

It’s not often she’ll get envious, while it is easy to provoke her. She’ll say a word, or two, or a few sentences — when it’s needed.

She’ll cock a brow, place a hand on her hip as she watches for a moment. Maybe she’ll wait a staggering one minute before she goes and joins the conversation. The woman smiles at you, and asks. “Hey, honey. Who’re you talking to?” And look at the man in front of you with a now neutral expression. She has no interest, whatsoever, only to you.

“Well, we really have to go now, sir. Surely ya won’t mind if I take her back, right? I know ya won’t. ‘Cause she ain’t yours.” It’s hard to prevent whatever spews out of her mouth.

KAREN JONES

“So yer gonna talk to her the whole night, that it?” You hear from behind you, Karen says to who you’re talking to. It’s not common for her to get jealous, but she’ll let you know. It’s a little scary, really, the way she can be so blunt.

Expect her to be, initially, in a not so bright mood.

Maybe she’ll even drink a bottle or two, in nights without you beside her. Jealousy’s a nasty thing, and she tries to keep in check. Her tongue is loose, though, she can’t do much about it.

MARYBETH GASKILL

She’s been peeking, looking around who you were with the past hour. The book in her hands, suddenly becomes a little harder to read. She wants to talk to you, be with you — but that apparently can’t be done.

She’ll come to you, a little shy, smiling a little. “Who’re you talking to, [Reader]?” Pretty please will you go and talk to me instead? It’s written all over her face. She doesn’t really understand why not, you see.

It’s not along before you’re eventually dragged away. Sometimes you don’t even notice. She’s sneaky like that, has a penchant for averting your attention to her. Although with good intention.

MOLLY O’SHEA

She understands, you’re a busy person. And that means you lend a lot of time to other people, and talk to them, and go with them. Your attention, love, and care has always been enough for her. But she always thinks, and thinks.

Molly notices the little things. The way your body is close, the way your elbows and hands slightly brush against some people. It upsets her to an extent where you’ll find her huddled away, just waiting for you to visit her.

“It’s nothing.” But she’ll crack the next moment and tell you all about how she’s been lonely, and how she missed you. “Do you still love me? I do.”

Tell her you do. All she needs is a little reassurance.

[flwrstqr]

𓂃 ENHYPEN WHEN THEY ACCIDENTALLY CONFESS TO YOU WHEN THEY ARGUE WITH YOU ⌇

﹙NOTES. ﹚꒰˵ˊᯅˋ˵꒱ 𖥔 ݁ fluff. gn!reader. requested 𓈃 ๋. ARCHiVE 759 wc.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

"i can’t believe you’re acting like this!" you shout, your voice rising as the tension between you and heeseung escalates. it’s been one of those days, where everything little thing he’s done has rubbed you the wrong way. you cross your arms, staring him down, but he doesn’t back away.

"acting like what?" he snaps back, "like you don’t even care!" you throw your hands up, turning on your heel to storm off. you’ve had enough, and the last thing you want is to continue arguing.

before you can take a single step, heeseung’s hand wraps around your wrist, tugging you back gently but firmly. "of course, i care!" you turn to face him, startled by the sudden change in his tone. his eyes search yours, and for a moment, neither of you say anything.

then, almost like he’s forcing the words out, he blurts, "i love you, okay? that’s why i care so much."

your heart stops. his words hang in the air like a heavy secret finally released, both of you frozen in place. your mind races, trying to process what he just said. "wait… what did you just say?" your voice comes out in a whisper, barely above the sound of your own heartbeat.

heeseung swallows hard, his hand still gripping your wrist. "yeah," he sighs, running a shaky hand through his hair. "i said it. i love you."

rest of the members below !!

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐀𝐘

"i can’t believe you're serious right now," you huff, crossing your arms as you glare at jay. he stands across from you, frustration clear in his eyes. "what? you act like everything's always my fault!" he fires back, his tone sharper than usual.

"because you never listen! it's like you don’t even care!" you snap. you turn away, not wanting to deal with him anymore, but before you can take another step, jay grabs your arm, spinning you back around.

"don’t say that! of course, i care!" his voice cracks slightly, catching you off guard. "if i didn’t care, i wouldn’t be this frustrated all the time!" his grip tightens just a little, but not enough to hurt.

"you’re frustrated? imagine how i feel!" you bite back, pulling your arm away. "you act like nothing i say matters!"

"it does matter!" he yells, his voice suddenly desperate. "everything you do matters! i love you, okay?" the words slip out in a rush, and the second they do, his eyes widen, realizing what he just said. there’s a moment of silence.

"wait, what?" you blink at him, your anger quickly replaced by confusion. "you… love me?"

jay curses under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "yeah… i do. i wasn’t supposed to say it like that, but yeah, i love you." he looks down, his face turning red as he finally admits it.

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

"why are you always hanging out with him?" jake snaps, his eyes flashing with jealousy as he crosses his arms. you roll your eyes, not in the mood for this argument again. "he’s just a friend, jake! you’re overreacting," you reply, shaking your head. but he’s not backing down.

"just a friend? it doesn’t seem that way when you’re always laughing at his jokes or sitting so close to him!" his voice raises, frustration building. "i’m right here, and you’re acting like i don’t even exist when he’s around."

"it’s not like you even like me," you mutter under your breath.

"what did you just say?" jake asks, his voice tight with disbelief.

"you heard me," you snap, feeling your chest tighten. "you’re acting like this over nothing. it’s not like you even like me, jake!"

his grip on your arm tightens just a little, his eyes locked on yours. "are you serious? of course, i like you! i—" he pauses, his expression softening for the first time in the entire argument. "god, i don’t just like you. i love you, okay? i don't why you didn't even get the signs."

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

"seriously? you're mad at me over this?" sunghoon snaps, his voice dripping with disbelief as he paces back and forth. "you’re the one who keeps canceling plans last minute, and now you’re upset because i didn’t tell you i was going out?"

you fold your arms, trying to hold back the sting of hurt and frustration. "it’s not about that, sunghoon! it’s about the fact that you didn’t even bother to text me. i had to find out from someone else. do you know how embarrassing that is?"

he stops pacing, turning to face you with a mix of anger and confusion. "embarrassing? for what? it’s not like i’m hiding anything from you!"

"then why didn’t you just tell me?" you demand, your voice shaking slightly. "if you don’t care enough to communicate, maybe i’m just wasting my time—"

"because i didn’t know how to tell you!" he suddenly shouts, cutting you off. his fists clench at his sides, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. "you think i don’t care? you think it’s that easy? i’ve been trying to figure out how to say this for weeks!"

your heart skips a beat, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "say what?"

"that i love you!" he blurts out, his face flushed with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. "i didn’t know how to tell you because i didn’t want to mess things up. i didn’t know how to say it without making everything weird, but… here it is."

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

"why do you always have to make such a big deal out of everything?" sunoo snaps, his voice sharp as he glares at you, frustration etched across his face. the argument had started over something small—he forgot to invite you to hang out with his friends—and now it’s spiraled into a full-blown fight.

"a big deal?" you scoff, crossing your arms. "i’m sorry for wanting to spend time with you! but clearly, i’m just a second thought to you."

sunoo’s eyes widen, his expression twisting with anger. "that’s not true, and you know it! you act like i don’t care, but you have no idea how much you mean to me!"

"then why didn’t you invite me? why do i always have to find out about things last?" you fire back, feeling the sting of being left out. "if you cared, you’d actually want me around."

"i didn’t invite you because i didn’t want things to get awkward!" he yells, stepping closer, his fists clenched at his sides. "but you know what? maybe i should’ve just said it! maybe i should’ve told you that i love you so you’d understand why i’m so afraid of screwing this up!"

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

"why do you always have to make everything so difficult?" jungwon snaps, frustration clear in his voice as he paces back and forth. the argument had started over something minor but had quickly escalated.

"difficult?" you retort, feeling your anger rise. "it’s not difficult. it’s just that you never seem to care about how I feel."

jungwon’s eyes narrow as he turns to face you. "you think I don’t care? you have no idea what it’s like for me!"

"then show me!" you shout, throwing your hands up in exasperation. "stop talking in circles and actually do something!"

before you can say anything more, jungwon closes the distance between you in an instant. he grabs your face gently but his lips crashing onto yours in a quick kiss.

when he finally pulls away, he looks at you. "i love you," he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper.

you blink, stunned into silence as you process what just happened. "wait, what?"

"yeah, I love you," jungwon repeats, his cheeks flushed. "and I didn’t know how else to tell you."

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

"why do you always act like this?" riki snaps, his frustration evident as he stands with his arms crossed. the argument had started over a minor mix-up but had escalated into something bigger.

"act like what?" you retort, feeling your frustration rise. "I’m just trying to understand why you keep blowing me off."

"blowing you off?" riki’s eyes flash with annoyance. "I’ve been trying to show you how much you mean to me, but it’s like you don’t even see it."

"show me how?" you ask, your confusion growing. "I haven’t seen anything that makes me feel like you care."

riki’s frustration shifts to desperation. "did you not see the note I left in your locker? I wrote that I love you, yn!"

your eyes widen. "a note? I didn’t see any note."

riki’s face goes pale as he realizes what might have happened. "wait, did I put it in the wrong locker? oh no..."

"yeah, that might be it," you say, trying to hide a smile. "I didn’t get a note."

riki’s expression softens, and he steps closer. "well, now you’ve heard it. I love you, yn. I get these butterflies in my stomach whenever you walk in or when you smile. I really do care for you."

[monstersholygrail]

It broke your heart to leash and put a muzzle on your Werewolf bf. But ultimately you really didn’t have any other option.

Not when he was growling and snarling at anyone who dare to look at you too long. Protecting his territory and constantly preparing to fight off any human who he thinks is planning to take you away from him.

Even now with a leash attached to his pretty collar and the muzzle fit snuggly on his face, he still pulls and tugs on the leash, growling lowly as other hybrids pass by on your daily walks around the park. But at least now you nor anyone else has to worry about things getting out of hand.

Or at least that’s what you think…

Your bf is silently stewing, practically seething at the fact that you’ve done this to him. His bad mood only increasing the amount of times he snarls at his competitors for your affection that pass you by.

His limitations only serve to remind him what you’ve done to him. And boy does it make him want revenge. To teach you who’s really the one in charge here as the desire to make you submit roars inside of him.

That feeling only grows as your walk continues and by the time the two of you have gotten back to your home, your bf is practically vibrating in his skin. The need to pounce on you and mount you pumps through his veins and electrifies the urge.

You gently take off the leash and the muzzle and he finally feels free. Your soft smile and sweet touch never leave his face as you hang them up. For a second his heart warms at your affection but the clank of metal rings in his ears and he’s reminded he’ll have to wear them again for your walk later.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask lightly, leaning in and giving him a chaste kiss before turning around and heading to your room.

Your bf’s eyes follow you closely like a predator hunting their prey. He smirks wickedly and lifts the leash off the hook before following you, tail wagging in excitement thinking about how he’s gonna demolish that sweet pussy of yours.

“You deserve a treat for being such a good boy. Can get you some from the kitchen in a minute,” you call out as you flick on the bedroom lights, preparing to change into your pajamas for the night.

At your comment he freezes outside your door, vision flashing till all he sees is red. That was the final straw and before he can stop himself, your bf is swiftly jumping out to pounce on you.

You yelp as his body barrels into yours, pinning you to the bed before you can even blink. He chuckles darkly, claws digging into the flesh of your wrists to keep you still for him.

“A snack?! No, babygirl, imma take the whole meal. I think I’ve earned it after what you put me through.”

Your eyes widen as you realize where this is coming from. Your body squirms but he pushes his hips against yours and you whine as his cock nudges against your wet folds. His dominating presence turning you on more than you can admit.

“I-it was just a precaution, please,” you beg, though you don’t know what you’re begging for.

But as he takes out the leash he was holding and starts tying it around your wrists, binding them to the bedpost, you know. You’re begging for more.

“Yeah, well I can’t have you squirmin’ ‘round on me. So this is just a precaution,” he mocks with a dangerous smile that has his fangs glittering in the sunlight.

With a harsh tug your bf exposes your messy folds. He runs his fingers down your soaked slit and you cry out, hips jerking up to meet his teasing touch.

“Ahhh, it seems like you’ve been lying to me. You like it when I’m like this. It gets you all hot and wet— fucking hell you’re dripping all over my hand, love.” A rumble moves through his chest as he sees just how desperate you are for him.

Not waiting a moment more he removes his pulsing cock from its sheath and slams himself inside you in the blink of an eye. You moan loudly, body bucking at the sudden intrusion. But the leash and his hands keep you tied down as he pounds his length deep inside your pussy.

Whimpers leave you as you’re left defenseless against his attack, his brutal pace jolting your body with each thrust with no way to add to the pleasure he forces onto you. No matter how much you try and squirm it’s no use. You can’t reach him.

“Oh fuck, please. Take the leash off. Let me touch you, please, let me touch you!”

You let out a strangled whine as he starts aiming for the soft spot along your walls. Your bf shushes you gently, a clawed hand moving to hold your neck in a firm grip.

“Sh, sh, sh. No talking. Wouldn’t want me to get the muzzle now,” he rasps as he quickens his pace, leaving you mewling as your back arches unnaturally.

He goes on for what feels like forever. Bringing you to climax over and over again. Only allowing short sounds of pleasure to leave your lips. His grip on your neck squeezing every time you talk until you cum on his cock and it all starts over.

By the time you’re done and he gently removes the leash from your wrists, your body is nothing but a limp bag of bones. Yet you still have the strength to immediately cling onto your bf, keeping him close as he whispers praises in your ear about how good you did for him and how he can’t wait for your next walk so you can do this again.

[redr0sewrites]

💫A/n: just some general pv x reader hcs. sorry ive been in such a writing slump ://

💫Cw: fluff + smut, praise, use of pet names, minors dni w the nsfw portion

💫 dividers

sfw:

Pure Vanilla is one of the best partners you could ever ask for in my mind

he's very attentive and an incredible listener, while also being so smart and gentle

if you're dating him, you definitely feel cherished. no matter how busy he is, and he is often busy, Pure Vanilla always makes time for you and puts in effort

he dotes on you a LOT!! he is always offering to help you, even at his own expense, and never wants to see you upset. he's a great person to ask for advice, and is endlessly supportive because of these qualities as well

he's very forgiving, and big on commitment and communication. you don't argue much, and even when you do, he's never the type to make you feel as though he doesn't respect you- that doesn't mean you don't argue though, as communication is very veryyyy important to him

i also think that Pure Vanilla, if he's in a relationship with you or even if you're just one of his close friends has a very heavy bias towards you. like if you're arguing with someone else, he would never ever publicly disagree with you and would support you 100%. if he genuinely disagrees with you he'd tell you kindly in private, but he's not the type to cause unnecessary drama for others to see, and wants to make sure that you know he's always on your side.

as positive and kind as he is, i do think that Pure Vanilla cookie has a bit of a self negativity streak in the sense that he can be a huge people pleaser. as his partner, you're one of the few people (cookies?) who gets to witness his more insecure and negative side. he tends to blame himself a lot for simple mistakes or problems that were entirely out of his control, and this can definitely apply to a relationship as well

unsurprisingly, he's very touch starved, and while not unwilling to admit it, he struggles to come to terms with it per se. i think Pure Vanilla would subconsciously be aware that he craves affection, but just doesn't know how to verbalize it as he doesn't want to force his feelings onto you

in tandem with this, i think he lovesss when you play with his hair! he loves that unbridled, gentle sort of affection, and melts whenever your hands go to run through his hair or massage his scalp. this is also a very specific personal headcanon, but i think Pure Vanilla would give the best gentle massages. he's an amazing healer, so you already know that transfers into your relationship, and having the opportunity to relieve the tension from your body is sooo satisfying to him. obviously not in a sexual way, he just wants you to be comfortable and loves helping you in any way he can

enjoys peaceful dates where he just gets to spend time with you!! Pure Vanilla cookie doesn't need anything thrilling to keep him occupied, and is absolutely fine just staying home with you for the evening and reading side by side, cuddling, or just enjoying each other's presence. if you are interested in thrilling dates, like amusement parks or scary movies, he's happy to indulge you, but he absolutely prefers the quiet, simple moments with you that are just so much more affectionate to him

nsfw:

Pure Vanilla cookie is absolutely a switch in my mind. it truly depends on your preferences, as he's down to be sub or dom or whatever works for you. i think he slightly prefers to bottom in terms of position simply because its less pressure for him (especially due to his eyesight conditions and his worries about not pleasuring you,,,, ☹️) but also won't reject topping. again, it really depends on his and your moods

i do think there are times where if you push his buttons enough he does have the capacity to be a pretty hard dom, but most of the time he's quite gentle! he's heavy on praise and reassurance, both giving and receiving, as he wants to make sure that everything he's doing is pleasing to you.

Pure Vanilla's favorite position in my mind would be the lotus flower position, where he basically just gets to be as close to you as possible. he has a penchant for just melting into your embrace and burying his head into your neck with a wordless whine, especially when he's overstimulated, and this position more than allows for that. however, i do also think he'd enjoy a spooning position where you're both laying on your side and he or you can just hold the other back-to-chest and have sex like that, but this position is more reserved for sleepy mornings and quicker sessions before bed.

no matter your genitals, Pure Vanilla would Love. to go down on you. he's absolutely a munch, and loves pleasuring you in this way and watching you absolutely fall apart. theres nothing more satisfying to him than wringing orgasms after orgasm out of you until your whimpering and whining, and all the while he's squirming and humping the bed while waiting for his own release. something about the eroticism of oral to him just makes him go crazy

when it comes to kinks, at first he's pretty .... vanilla.... (haha.... get it. im sorry) but i think over time he'd reveal his more serious kinks and perversions. he's also down to experiment with anything you're into, as you're his first priority in bed. however, i do think Pure Vanilla would be against anything that could seriously hurt you. he would worry too much, and doesn't like seeing you in extreme pain. in contrast to this though, i do think he would enjoy seeing you become an absolute wreck from overstimulation or edging (especially if this is Truthless Recluse we're talking about,,,, but those are headcanons for another time i fear)

when it comes to general kinks, he has a lot, and you're gonna have to bare with me through some of these explanations. starting off pretty obvious, i'd say praise and just like pampering in general during sex is a pretty big one for him. he loves seeing you flustered, but also enjoys being praised or overwhelmed with pleasure in return. next up, i don't know if this really counts as a kink but like,,, hand holding is super important to him, he loves being close to you. hair pulling, specifically receiving, is HUGE for him. i'm just picturing Pure Vanilla being all soft and gentle during sex, but then the second you pull his hair he's a quivering mess !!

next up, parallel play and just. mutual masturbation in general. he often fantasizes about you walking in on him masturbating and vice verse, and it's just very attractive to him to learn what makes you tick. also kinda similar to this but i think he'd secretly be into being humiliated a bit. i don't think Pure Vanilla would ever admit it, but if you started teasing him about how loud he's moaning or how pathetic he is he'd cum on the spot. he's always trying his best to please others, and so you taking that a step further and getting him all embarrassed really turns him on.

while these are all pretty tame, i do think that Pure Vanilla has some more secretive and embarrassing sexual desires that he absolutely feels ashamed of- and also turn him on more than anything else. i might make some seperate headcanons for what i think his more perverse interests are, but overall i don't think he'd share his fantasies with his partner until you both are very close and very intimate. however, if you're freakier than him and give him the opportunity to share his desires ..... well. that's also quite attractive to him, yk?

overall, i think he's a very sweet lover when it comes to sex, and can accommodate anything you ask, whether it be as tame or as freaky as you prefer !!

thanks for reading !! i haven't written in a hot minute and i feel like it shows <\3 my life has been kinda weird and stressful rn but im trying my best to get back into writing !!! ALSO PLEASEEE SEND IN CRK OR PRESSURE (roblox) ASKS 😞🙏