#Just a lil longer and I can do even more of that :3

[averagespacekid]

jon sims headcanons +appearance timeline!

SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS OF TMA after the cut‼️

to start here is the timeline image (if you’ve seen it before no you haven’t)

now for the meat n potatoes!

(1-3 are all hair-timeline related)

1. i headcanon jon as having decently short hair at first just to be professional or whatever even though he prefers it longer (alternative mf), then season two hits and he just kinda forgets about it cause he’s too busy being paranoid and stalking his coworkers. he remembers again after the [brutal pipe murder], but just kinda decides short hair is not worth the upkeep and buys a pack of hair ties that he then keeps on his person throughout the rest of the show, and ends up with this beautiful mess that floats when he uses his powers. maybe he has martin help him with it in various ways just to have an excuse for a domestic moment during the eyepocalypse, who knows (i do because i say so and i like drawing men with long hair)

2. he has an almost-curly wave pattern that tends to frizz easily but is not that hard to handle when he actually takes care of it. totally not projecting definitely not why would i do that? georgie was the one to show him the magic of curl products and from then on you could never catch him without at least four different ones in his bathroom, even after he cuts his hair for work. he wishes he liked masculine woodsy type scents for his hair products, but he does not. he prefers the fruity bath and body works type stuff. at first he never lets people get close enough to him to learn this, and even if he did start warming up to people enough to let them get close, they wouldn’t have anyway in s2 because he’s a paranoid lil bitch boy. martin begins to associate those scents with jon later on but doesn’t realize why until they get to the safehouse and he sees all of jon’s hair products and immediately understands.

3. jon greys a lot over the course of the series. he goes through a lot of stress so obviously this would make sense, but since he was marked by the web so early on i think that would have happened whether or not he’d been chosen as the archivist (yknow cause white hairs are kinda similar to webs? idk it makes sense to my brain parasites). also it makes him look older than he is, which he appreciates at first because it helps with his stuffy academic persona

4. he has kinda the same feeling about shaving throughout the show as he does with haircuts, as in at first he tries to stay clean-shaven for professionalism, but eventually he gets to a point where he only shaves when his facial hair starts being inconvenient and/or bothering him sensory-wise because he’s autistic (we’ll get to that later)

5. as soon as he learns that his job entails monster encounters and almost dying regularly, he basically says fuck you to the dress code and starts wearing skirts and jewelry and all that fun stuff because he likes it, and if he gets fired then it might be worth it to get out of there. he’s wearing a skirt in the s2 image because i say so. sweater vest + long pleated skirt combo jon yes please (i will be drawing this soon, trust)

6. as alternative as he is, he never got any more piercings than the four on his lobes because at the end of the day he was still an academic and wanted to pursue research, and knew that that kind of thing pushed the boundaries of that image a little too far. he regrets this later but doesn’t think too much of it since his priorities are placed… elsewhere

7. at some point during s2, elias/jonah notices his lack of care about the dress code and decides to gift him the eye earrings that i gave him in that image. obviously he has ulterior motives but jon doesn’t know that and thinks they’re cool so he wears them regularly. he’s also given a glasses chain with eye charms on it, but he forgets to wear it most of the time since he can barely see without his glasses anyways so he has no need for it

8. obviously he can’t go back to his house in s3, so he has to borrow a lot of what the ghost? merch from georgie. he is still a skeptic about the ghost hunting genre despite everything he knows now, but he still wears it because he doesn’t have any other option and wants to support his friend. he’s a very sweet guy at heart but just doesn’t want to admit it most of the time because it’d conflict with his stuffy academic image

9. it’s fairly common to see people draw him as not needing his glasses anymore after his avatar transformation, as well as his eye color changing, and i fuckin love it gimme more of that please. i also saw someone say that all the eyes are green because jonah has green eyes but after jon becomes the pupil all the eyes turn brown, but idk how to feel about that one since the whole show is just green atp and it would be weird to change that

10. in s5, he has eyes all over his body and they usually don’t close unless they’re about to get poked or touched. when he uses his power, the sclera turn black and the irises glow. he also has the funny glowing eye halo but it’s not tangible so it’s not too big of a deal for him. also, fun fact: i never draw eyes with pupils. it’s just not a part of my style. i only threw them in here because he can literally see everything, especially in his glitched-out finale form. it’s meant to seem like he’s looking at you because he is. the archive can s̠҉͍͊ͅẹ̿͋̒̕ẹ̿͋̒̕ y҉̃̀̋̑o̯̱̊͊͢ư̡͕̭̇ he is w̦̺̐̐͟ā̤̓̍͘t̲̂̓ͩ̑c͕͗ͤ̕̕ḣ̖̻͛̓ỉ͔͖̜͌ṇ̤͛̒̍ĝ̽̓̀͑

11. literally everyone thinks this man is beautiful. he is so pretty and even people who aren’t attracted to men can see that. however, most are dissuaded by the stuffy academic persona at first and the “you look like hell” vibes later, as well as his generally standoffish personality. this does not apply to martin, who sees all of those traits as 100% his type, or elias/jonah, who has a religious sort of reverence toward jon as his perfect archivist (this was touched upon by alex during the magnus fanfic-reading video and i’ve loved the idea ever since). jon does not like this but he’s also unaware of it for most of the show so it’s not too big a deal for him

12. i only just learned who dev patel is from people fancasting him as jon, but i looked him up and yes i approve of the fancast. i also drew these before i looked him up so i think i accidentally drew dev patel a few times (also as a white person i can’t say much about his race and how it would play into his character but whenever i see art of him that doesn’t portray him as a poc i just go “why is he white” so i’m just gonna go along with the majority of the fandom’s interpretation of him being south asian)

13. he is very small. not too short, per se, but small, like a tall skinny person was scaled down in photoshop. he’s about 5’7, and at first he wears shoe lifts to hide this, but eventually just decides to wear platforms and heels like he did in college, and sometimes just forgoes them entirely because he’s stopped caring. martin likes to pick him up and carry him around the safehouse (and in places where he’s cut off from the eye) and he enjoys it.

now for some non-appearance related ones that have been chewing on my brain along with the parasites

14. WE’RE FINALLY GETTING TO IT‼️ he’s 100% autistic (i’m autistic and i hit him with the tism ray). him responding to “have you seen a dog?” with “in general, or…?” is so autism-coded it’s not even funny. he doesn’t have too many sensory issues but he hates tight pants and ties and things like that. he also hates the feeling of air on his skin most of the time so he always wears long sleeves if he can help it. for the first few days after he realizes he doesn’t need his glasses, he keeps wearing them anyway because he’s so used to them. he doesn’t melt down but he does shut down sometimes, though he does lose the ability to go nonverbal after his transformation and that fucks with him a lot. martin is a big help with this in s5 because he’ll just be quiet, not provoking the eye to give or collect information at all.

15. he was definitely in the mechanisms in college. i don’t know too much about their lore yet since i’ve only listened to the first two albums (ulysses dies at dawn is a fucking masterpiece), but picturing a young version of this jon as jonny d’ville is absolutely wonderful

16. he definitely liked martin in the early seasons but he didn’t fully realize it until later. i think his bullying was a result of him having the feelings and not quite knowing what those feelings were because he’s autistic. my biggest point of evidence for jon not truly disliking martin is that when they were trapped while hiding from jane prentiss, jon straight up thinks that he’s hallucinating martin being there because his presence is comforting.

17. he is CANONICALLY ASEXUAL AND FUCKING PROUD. him being ace makes me so happy as an ace person myself, especially since he’s in an mlm relationship with someone who’s (assumedly) not ace but is not expecting anything out of him, just like myself. i feel incredibly seen by the whole magnus team just for that but this is a headcanon post so i won’t get into all that. he is very much a romantic and was incredibly touch-starved post-georgie and before martin, so he’s happy to be physically close and intimate as long as it doesn’t go any further than that. he loves big hugs and kisses and cuddles from his boyfriend and that’s fucking wonderful!! okay moving on from the projection

18. for his whole life, his favorite color was blue, specifically that of the sky or similar lighter shades like periwinkle and cyan and those such as. they’re peaceful, and he looks good wearing them. but after his coma, he realizes just how much he likes green, and starts wearing it a lot more… he doesn’t realize that it’s not his own brain producing that thought.

19. he does not look like the type to like rock and metal, but he does. he loves how complicated in structure metal can be, especially when it utilizes more melodic aspects as well. if he could have heard take me back to eden by sleep token (well, most of it—there are some flops on there), he would have loved it. he also loves classical pieces for that same reason, but the heavy stuff is super appealing to him on its own. he sometimes listens to prog and math rock as well, just to follow along with the time signatures and long runtimes projecting again maybe but it kinda makes sense so i’m putting it out there

20. he was never as much of a media nerd as he was an academics nerd, but he loves long speculative book series like a song of ice and fire, red rising, and the stormlight archive. intricate worldbuilding gets him every time, and he’ll throw himself into it completely, as is canon. he tried playing dungeons and dragons once, but the amount of pre-existing rules bothered him since he couldn’t do everything he wanted to with his character. star wars also bothers him because there’s so many inconsistencies in the lore. but, it did inspire him to write his own space opera lore for his band.

jesus christ that’s more writing than i’ve done for any of my novels in months yippee i’m dying over here

anyways that’s all i’ve got for now, i hope to incorporate this stuff into my art from here on out but hey maybe i’ll hyperfixate on something else soon and never draw mr. jarchivist again! has happened before could happen again folks

to finish off here’s my proper art of him again cause i feel like adding it!

c ya later 👁️

[meowuff]

Just some doodles~

Trying ma best for anatomy and stuff :T

Close ups of ma fav~!

[cream-stew]

How about monsterfcking with Neuvillette? Him in his dragon form pounding and breeding reader's pussy until his cum leaks out and when Neuvillette saw his cum leaking out he tries to push it back in using his thick fingers but it just won't stay inside, a lot of his cum wasted so he fucked Reader full again with a new batch of cum and cockwarmed him after their down<3

(What if after they have sex, Neuvillette carries Reader to the bathroom to clean both of them and Neuvillette still inside of Reader but ended up fucking when Neuvillette and Reader are inside of the bathtub)

Sorry if my grammar is wrong! English is my third language hehe and I'm still learning

🔞minors dni

warnings: afab reader, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, tummy bulge, size kink, mosterfucking

// note: no worries anon I could understand perfectly <3 thank you for the request this was fun

he's bigger than you even in his more human form, but like this, arms and legs covered in light blue scales, thick horns crowning his head, he's just. huge. straight up huge. he has you in a mating press and your face can barely reach his pecs, your legs can't even hook on his shoulders, they're ramrod straight as he grips your ankles in his big hands.

his cock is a really tight fit too... your pussy is stretched to the limit as he pounds into you, leaving you gaping each time he pulls out before slamming back inside with full force. now you can really understand why he decided to fuck you on the floor this time, putting down soft blankets and pillows so that you'd still be comfortable, but simply refusing to do it on the bed: he would have destroyed it in minutes, his strength and stamina in his half dragon form is insane!

when he finally cums inside you, when you're well on your way to a fourth orgasm, you think maybe he'll calm down a little but nope... he just changes tactics, never pulling out completely again, bc he doesn't want his cum to leak out of you :(

he keeps fucking you with really shallow thrusts, just as fast as he did previously, praising and encouraging you to just hold on for "a little longer" bc he needs to cum again, to claim you fully and stuff your cute little pussy to the brim :(

your eyes are tearing up a lil by then, but it feels so good that you can't find it in you to complain... so you let him pump you full one, twice more, until you hear him grumble and mutter something under his breath, until his huge fingers replace his monstrous cock, trying to fuck the cum back inside you. "what a waste" he complains. in his lustful haze he doesn't understand that your pussy is way too small to hold on to all that cum, so the only solution he can find is to fuck you again...

except this time, after pounding into you so so roughly, making you squirt on his cock for who knows how many times, he doesn't pull out after cumming... he just makes you cockwarm him, thinking that there's no way it'll leak out if he keeps your pussy sealed off like that!

it's hours before he allows you to move, but he still doesn't let you go, carrying you to the bathroom with his rock hard cock still buried snugly against your cervix, an evident bulge in your tummy. he summons enough warm water to fill the tub before lowering the both of you inside, effectively making you straddle his hips as the new position allows his cock to reach even deeper inside your womb.

it'd be relaxing, the warm water soothing your sore muscles, if he didn't grab you by the hips to move you back and forth on his cock :/ he uses you like a fleshlight, bouncing you up and down and jerking off inside your pussy as you desperately clutch to his shoulders, moaning and babbling, and when he doesn't stop even after cumming one more time inside, you just accept that you're going to fall asleep in his arms, and he's probably going to keep fucking you through it until you wake up in the morning🥺🥺

[bbokicidal]

A Simple Analysis. | OT8 [SKZ]

Warnings: I'm gonna be straight discussing these men and their pp sizes so if you don't want to read about that then just skip this post, no biggie.

Notes: I'm just theorizing what I think they're like 'n I included some good 'ol references. Please note - these references include pictures/videos of the boys AS WELL AS pictures that are NOT the boys but are references to what I picture in my head when I write smut for them. I also need to thank @skzms because I Lowkey could not find bulge pics/vids on my own and their post really helped me out w that.

Extra Warning: There are twitter links in this post, so you know what that means!! Watch at your own discretion losers, I don't want ppl in my inbox whining that I use refs that 'don't look like them' like obv jfc let me hop on bub quick to ask Chris for a dick pic smh.

Extra extra warning: I like slowly lost the ability to think the more I wrote this because all I was doing was looking at SKZ cock so I mean. forgive me.

Chris

HEA. VY.

Heavy Heavy Heavy !!!! I said what I said !!! And if you want to know why, you can simply look at this video!! If I'm being totally honest here, I don't think he's massive down below but I do think he's a little above average at least. Maybe -- mm... six and a half inches? Pretty sure it's pretty, pink, and always leaking pre because he gets hard so easily.

Also, pretty sure it's relatively thick. I mean, we've seen it a few times before in his pants/shorts, so... definitely enough to make you whimper when he's splitting you open. <3

I'm not even gonna like. explain why I think this bc I'm pretty sure we all know but it's veiny as fuck and you cannot argue w that.

And his favorite thing is when you mention during sex how full you feel just bc of how heavy he is. :]

In conclusion: Pretty pink fat cock that is more than enough to make you feel incredible each time you fuck. <3333

Minho

This man is... packing. p a c k i n g.

Packing like I'm pretty sure it's not like thick thick but it's thick enough and it's probably more on the purple side than the pink side, and it's so fucking long--

Not as heavy as Chan but definitely bigger. Bigger, longer, one pretty blue vein running up the side. Literally so perfect and just the right size for your hands to fit around. Also not too long to the point where it hurts to take it but definitely... big. Seven, at least. At. Least.

And his favorite thing is when you whine about how he's fucking you so good that you might die. Dunno why that comment specifically gets to him, but he makes sure to fuck you a little deeper after that.

In conclusion: pretty cock for a pretty man and so fucking yummy.

Changbin

Okay look people might disagree but I think Binnie's a lil on the smaller side !!

Now look. I'm not saying 'bah this bitch has a small cock' I'm just saying it's not a cervix-kisser like a few of the men on this list. It's just right!! It's the perfect size to be perfectly comfortable when fucking and he knows that 'n he's happy with it. (I'm thinking five, bc five is a comfy size.)

However.

He will ABSOLUTELY split you wide fucking open with how thick he is. This man has the chubbiest, pink, mouth-watering, pussy-dripping, eyes-rolling-back, tears running down your thighs, cock ever !!! He's gotta prep you for so fucking long and there is always soooo much foreplay to you two having sex because he's just so thick that if you don't prep lots it's gonna hurt a lil and Bin really really just wants to take care of you. :(((

And his favorite thing is seeing the way you struggle to take him in your mouth because of how thick he is. :]]]]]

In conclusion: best cock on this list. <3

Hyunjin

Hoh. My God.

Hyunjin,,,, ... Hyunjin's packing a fucking rod of a cock, I can't even lie to you. I'm like 90% sure it's at least eight inches and if it isn't then I'm dead. Y'all thought Minho was big? LAWD have mercy, Hyunjin's got a fucking PIPE on him. A third leg, if you will. Shit slaps his thigh when he walks if he don't wear briefs.

SO. PRETTY. I keep saying all their cocks are pretty BC THEY ARE I JUST KNOW IT but Hyunjin's cock is actually fucking gorgeous like it's the type where even if you're someone who's like "I don't like dick pics" and he sends you one?? you're like "omg y'know what I've had an epiphany"

Not like heavy or thick like the others but soooo long, soooo pretty, soooo mouth watering. The type of cock that has you actually drooling and getting fucked dumb every time he puts it in you.

And his favorite thing is when you do just that ^ and go all quiet n whimpery during sex because your brain is mushy.

In conclusion: Monster cock and no one can convince me otherwise !!

Jisung

Mm, okay. I think it's -- average?? But see I dunno why but I'm picturing a little on the thinner side. (AND NO THAT ISN'T MY SUB JI SUPREMACY MINDSET SPEAKING) but just bc it's a little thinner doesn't mean it's not heavy !!!

And even though it only might be like - five and a half, it's still so cute and so pretty and so fucking tasty!!!

Also like a firm believer that he jerks it at least twice a day, sorry not sorry.

And his favorite thing is when you blow him because you just take it so well and he loves seeing it all disappear down your throat <33 mm mm mmmm !!

In conclusion: Mmmm,,, cutest cock on the list <3

Felix

Y'all keep saying Felix has a little cock just bc you enjoy Twink Felix and look - I too enjoy Twink Felix but I also believe in frat boy Felix supremacy SO -

Big dick Felix in the building !!!

Pretty sure he's above average. Like, 6 or 6 and a half, maybe?? SO pretty, cut, pink, so so cute, so fucking yummy looking.

Easily like, the slickest cock on the list. And if you know what I mean, you know what I mean. if you don't that too bad ig.

The type of cock you wanna like. put in your mouth forever and just never stop giving him head fr.

And his favorite thing is when you jerk him because sometimes he just doesn't have the energy or care but he wants it. Plus your hands look so much better on it than his do. :ccc <333

In conclusion: Pretty, big, hefty cock that fills you up soooo good. Also constantly leaking cum n making a mess but you didn't hear that from me !!!!

Seungmin

Y'all,,, I'm not just saying this because I'm a Seungmin bias but,,,

This man has a fucking. rod. Not like Hyunjin-length rod but rod that's like at least seven inches and I refuse to believe otherwise because have you seen the,,,,

Fucking!!Monster!!Of!!A!!Cock!!!!

Thick! So thick! So heavy! Rivals Chris w how heavy he is !!

And his favorite thing is when you choke on it because raaahhh!!! (im not okay)

In conclusion: 2Min Monster Cock Squad

Jeongin

Holy God y'all.

Think I mentioned it once in a post where I was like, "P sure Jeongin has a big dick because as soon as he hit 21 he had this massive boom in confidence n I'm p sure it's bc his dick grew like 6 inches"

Sooooo,,, pretty sure he's also in the monster cock squad.

Like, at least seven inches, again. So big, so tasty. The type of cock that makes you pray to God it won't rip you apart because I just know he fucks hard, bro.

And his favorite thing is when you actually scream during sex because of how good he makes you feel. <3

In conclusion: Jeongin big dick supremacy, we all know he's packing a fucking log of summer sausage in his boxers.

Taglist : @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

[gothgoblinbabe]

The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony (pt.2)

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW 18+, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), fem reader, soft dom!Logan, good ol’ face sittin’, sloppy oral (m receiving), swearing, use of pet names - babydoll, sweetheart, pretty girl - teeth rottingly sweet fluff, emotional(?) sex, mild angst, i think thats it but if there’s any more pls lmk!

Read pt.1 here

Summary: part 2 is finally here! I’ll be honest i think the majority of it is smut, but if you’re not interested in reading that, you can stop at the point where you and Logan drive home from the restaurant :) <3 this is probably the most detailed nsfw thing i’ve ever written so it’s a lil’ longer than what i’d usually write for smut but I really wanted to deliver on this one.

Taglist: @deardo11 @pastelpinkflowerlife @joyfulpeanutsalad @jonesem11 @carollinnasic @likeficsinthewnd @mrs-ephemeral 

Word Count: 9.5K

divider credit here and here

It had been about a month since the whole ordeal with Logan - the exchanging of fake rings, sweet nicknames and kissing in the driveway - and to everyone else, it seemed like nothing had changed.

You’d still taunt each other during training, bicker over the small things and butt heads on almost everything, but it was all accompanied by stolen kisses in empty hallways, nights on the roof spent stargazing and small, sweet moments in between. You were going to come out with it - tell the team what had been going on behind closed doors - but truthfully, you were both fearful of the possible outcomes. What if this didn’t work out? What, you’d go back to hating each other - for real this time? So you kept it hushed, intending to give the new ‘relationship’ - a word neither of you used, yet - a sort of trial run. Neither of you admitted it aloud but you knew this way, if it really wasn’t meant to be, it could save you the embarrassment of admitting you were both wrong.

As the days went on, though, it became harder for either of you to keep up the act and even more difficult to keep your secret. You came close to being caught more often, having to stutter out an excuse each time. Jean and Ororo still knew what was going on - having been the ones to greet you in the hall when you’d gotten back from that dinner party - but gave you their word that it would stay a secret. The former of the two even feigned surprise when Scott mentioned he thought he saw you nearly kiss Logan in the kitchen, insisting he must've been seeing things.

You’d been washing some dishes and handing them off to him to dry and put away, both of you alone in the kitchen after dinner. 

“Hey, do you wanna come up to my room in a little bit? Maybe watch a movie?” he offered in a low voice, standing so close that your arms touched.

Neither of you had actually had the chance to be alone like that yet and the idea made your stomach erupt in butterflies.

“Hm - If I didn’t know any better, Logan,” you chuckled, “I’d think you have some ulterior motive.”

“And If I did?”

Your cheeks hurt from smiling and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon,” he cooed, “what do you think?”

You were looking up at him, your noses inches apart as he leaned down further. One of his hands came to rest on your lower back.

“Hey, guys, have you seen my - “

Scott’s voice echoed through the kitchen and you both jumped, Logan trying to put distance between you and nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck and you kept your eyes glued to the dishes in the sink.

“Uh,” Scott tilted his head, “have you guys…seen my phone?”

“Nope,” Logan was quick to reply, drying and putting away dishes now like it was his job.

“Um, no - sorry,” you shook your head.

“Hm…okay,” Scott mumbled, clearly suspicious of whatever it was he’d just seen. You both exchanged a look of panic when he left the room.

“That was close,” you huffed, returning to the task at hand.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “and he’s probably the last one we want to find out - Summers is a blabber mouth.”

You knew exactly what he meant. If you told Scott anything, he couldn’t keep it to himself. One time Jean had tried to plan a surprise party for your birthday and you already knew about it before she could even pick the decorations.

Jean and Ororo had thankfully kept their word, though. It was damn near torture for them to keep from shouting the truth aloud every time you got into your usual spats. The sly jokes, however, were another story.

“Will you two just kiss already?” Jean had blurted when you were pelting each other with beanbags during an outdoor game of cornhole. 

Ororo wasn’t any better. 

She was sitting next to you at dinner one night, Logan across from you. Everyone was chatting about their days or telling stories and she volunteered you to share.

“Anything new happening with you? You seem extra happy lately,” she was grinning.

Your eyes darted to Logan and then back to her, taking a deep inhale.

“Uh, nothin’ - nothin’ new,” you swallowed, "just happy.”

Logan was smiling to himself, his gaze focused on his dinner.

After everyone had finished dinner and vanished off to their rooms, he stopped you at the bottom of the staircase.

“Hey,” he nervously scanned the hallway while gnawing on his bottom lip, “can you meet me in the garden out back in fifteen minutes? I wanna show you somethin’.”

“Sure,” you nodded, “but the ‘something’ better not be beef jerky and a picnic blanket - which, by the way, is not a date.”

He clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes, a contradiction to the smile tugging at his lips.

“That was one damn time - you’re still mad about that?”

“Eh - not really, but I am gonna mention it in every argument we will ever have,” you joked.

“Oh, shut up, ya’ brat.”

 You giggled and he beamed at the sound, already undeniably smitten with you. He’d never been so sure of any other feeling in his life. Your serene voice, your perfect hair, the smell of your perfume, the way you walked, the way you laughed and smiled - it was all things he’d taken notice of before but chose to bury within himself, terrified of whatever it was that had given you so much power over him. 

Set on trying to impress you, he’d gone around the garden that morning and picked a couple flowers out of each different plant he saw. He felt a little ridiculous - his six foot frame and two hundred pound body towering over a bed of tulips and daffodils - but he reminded himself this was for you; to see that smile on your face that could bring him to his knees. He had fallen for you and he fell fast. He didn’t know when he’d truly realized it - maybe during one of your midnight conversations or during one of the movie nights when you made yourself comfortable under his arm - but it was a feeling so intense that he’d never experienced anything like it before. He’d never had that ache in his chest, the pain of wanting someone so badly that it physically hurts; the twisting feeling in the pit of his stomach when he thought of losing you, the way the thump of his heartbeat became so much louder and faster when he caught even a glimpse of you. Weeks ago, he probably would’ve made fun of the poor sap who was acting just as he was - like a lovesick dog on your leash - but he found himself finally starting to embrace the idea that there was someone for him in the way there was for Jean and Scott or Marie and Bobby. Maybe it wasn’t all permanent - nothing ever was - but whatever connection he had developed with you was one of the only things that he thought of first thing in the morning and right before he went to bed at night.

After what felt like the longest fifteen minutes of your life, you made your way outside and to the well kept garden. You admired every variation of flower in bloom while you walked, taking in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden in the moonlight. You planted yourself in the middle of the extensive displays of flora, nervously rocking back and forth on your heels. You scanned the landscape and that’s when you spotted him. 

Logan was making his way towards you and even through the darkness, you could see the bright arrangement of flowers held in his hands. Your heart felt like it swelled so much with adoration that it was going to burst. He’d done this for you, went out and handpicked every flower. Receiving so much affection from him was unusual, in a good way. Recently, he’d absentmindedly begun holding your hand in his at times, talking away while his fingers intertwined with yours like it was second nature. He’d play with your hair, kiss your cheek, embrace you from behind, even pull you onto his lap so you could nuzzle into his chest. Even when you weren’t alone, he was having trouble keeping himself off of you. He’d place a guiding hand on the small of your back or let his touch linger when your fingers brushed up against each other - small things, almost unnoticeable. It was a stark contrast to his behavior weeks before and you couldn’t have been happier. 

“These are for you,” Logan held the bouquet in front of you, pointing at some of the bulbs, “a couple of ‘em might be a little bent - I may have accidentally yanked ‘em out of the ground with more force than I needed to.”

You were beaming, your hands on your cheeks in excitement and surprise.  You delicately took the arrangement of flowers from him, admiring the beautiful ribbon that kept them together. Jean had helped with that, of course.

“Oh, Logan,” you pouted, “these are beautiful!”

“I wanted to give you somethin’ nice, y’know - after being such an asshole for so long,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. 

You knitted your eyebrows, “you didn’t have to, you know.”

He shook his head, waving a hand dismissively, “c’mon, none of that, princess. You deserve ‘em.”

Your heart felt like it would jump out of your chest whenever he’d call you sweet names. He’d called you princess before, sure, but only to tease you. The way he said it now was affectionate, as if to say you really were a princess in his eyes. You were head over heels for him already but you held your tongue, fearful that it was far too soon to admit something like that. The last thing you wanted to do was drive him away and lose the only relationship you’d had in years that made you absolutely lovesick to the point of losing sleep.

“I wanted to, uh - I wanted to tell you something, too,” he began, resting his hands on your waist. He seemed a little nervous with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

“So, tell me,” you smiled up at him. You’d be lying if you said you weren't a little nervous yourself, picking up on his hesitation.

He cleared his throat and took a deep breath, standing up straight and keeping his eyes trained on yours.

“I love you.”

You only blinked in response, lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t have to say it back if you don’t - “

“I love you - I love you, too.”

It was like letting go after holding your breath for so long, a sense of relief that couldn’t compare to anything else.

A wide grin crept onto his face, one he couldn’t hold back even if he tried. Your expression mirrored his - complete adoration for one another.

He was staring down at you the same way he had during dinner that night you first kissed. You’d wondered since then what it was, what made his pupils dilate when his eyes focused on yours or why he would tuck his lip between his teeth. You knew now that it was love.

“It’s gonna be even harder now to keep this - us - a secret,” he mumbled in a low voice. He brought his hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. He cupped your cheek after, unable to keep his hands off you.

“Well,” you bit the inside of your cheek, “we could tell them? Tell everyone, I mean.”

“Do you think you’re ready? I mean - not that I'm not ready, but I don't want you to feel rushed into anything.”

Your knees could’ve buckled right then and there at how truly sweet he was with you. You took his words into consideration and had a realization.

“We haven’t even really figured out what we are yet. What would we tell them?”

He nodded solemnly, grazing his thumb over your cheekbone, “Yeah, you’re right.”

You hoped this would be it - this would be the moment he finally told you that you were his girlfriend, you were something - but he gave a small smile and dropped his hand from your face.

“It’s getting late, we should get back before anyone notices we’re gone.”

You simply nodded, clearing your throat to replace the exasperated sigh you were about to let out.

You followed him on the way back, mind racing for the entirety of the short walk and drowning out anything Logan was saying. You wondered if he’d ever ask you that one question at all. Maybe he’d said he loved you to keep you hanging on, wrapped around his finger. Maybe it was meant to be casual and you’d misunderstood. 

But there was a bouquet of flowers in your hands. You’d fallen asleep on his chest more times than you could count, held hands at any moment you could and he did just tell you he loved you. So, maybe he did mean it.

As you snuck down the hallway to your bedroom with the arrangement of flowers, you wondered how long you’d have to keep this a secret.

Unbeknownst to you, it wouldn't be much longer.

It all came to a head when the team decided to go out to dinner together, settling on some chain restaurant. You’d coincidentally ended up next to Logan in the large booth, the both of you on the very end of the table. You were all reading from the menus and Marie piped up from across the table.

“Honey, do you wanna switch seats?”

She was talking to you. You didn't look up from the laminated paper in your hands, responding automatically without a second thought.

“Nah, I'm fine.”

She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion and looked at Bobby, who only shrugged. You two never sat next to each other, usually bickering so intensely that you’d be asked to shut up or leave the table. 

The unusual interaction was soon forgotten when your drinks were brought over, the waitress placing them in front of each of you. She was pretty and her long hair was pulled back into a ponytail. Logan being on the very end made him the closest in proximity to her and you being so close meant that you could hear her hushed voice when she leaned down before she walked away.

“And here, this is for you.”

She slid a napkin onto the table, your eyes automatically drawn to the movement. There was a clear phone number written in ink, her name scribbled underneath next to a smiley face.

Everyone at the table had noticed the interaction and waited for Logan to speak after she walked away. Instead, they watched in curiosity as he silently slid the napkin under his drink, the ink bleeding immediately from the condensation on the outside of his glass.

“Okay, what's up with you?” Scott questioned from across the table.

Logan raised his eyebrows, “I don’t know, what's up with you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Marie chimed in then, leaning forward with her elbows on the table to interrogate him, “you always take girls’ numbers when they give ‘em to you. Why not hers?”

He shrugged, “just not interested.”

“I call bullshit.”

“Watch the language, kid.”

“Whatever, you’re so full of it!”

You pretended to be uninterested in the conversation, folding your napkin into unrecognizable shapes. 

“You know what? I think you might be in love,” she giggled, “you’ve been way too happy lately. Like, absurdly happy.”

You froze in place, gwaning on your bottom lip. 

It was true, though. He was waking up early, smiling more, making more jokes that weren’t at Scott’s expense - they really had never seen him so happy.

“Um,” he hesitated for a second when you stole a glance at him. He was smiling to himself already.

“I guess you could say that.”

Everyone turned to stare at him in mild disbelief, including you.

“What? I was just kidding! Oh my god, you didn’t tell us?” Marie exclaimed, “spill it!”

Jean and Ororo were smiling wide behind their hands and exchanging knowing looks.

“Well, she’s real pretty,” he started, “and she’s sweet.”

You were trying so hard to fight a smile, covering your mouth with your fist as you leaned an elbow on the table.

“I never thought i’d hear you talk about someone like that,” Marie knitted her eyebrows and stuck out her bottom lip - the kind of face you’d make when a kid confesses their first crush.

Logan rolled his eyes and scoffed, a grin stuck on his face. Marie was still asking questions, determined to not let the topic go till she knew every detail.

“Is she your girlfriend?”

Logan was nervously chewing on the inside of his cheek. He looked like he was thinking of an answer.

“Uh… I don’t know. I haven’t really asked her.”

You must have been pink all the way to the tips of your ears. You brought your glass of water to your lips, hoping it would help cool your face. 

“Why not?”

Marie was really not gonna let this go and you dreaded to hear the answer come out of his mouth.

Logan sighed, picking at the skin around his fingernails as a nervous habit.

“Just a little nervous, I guess. I don’t wanna screw it up.”

“A girl that makes you nervous? When do we get to meet her?” 

Your eyes were stuck on the wood grain of the table, both of your hands covering half your face at this point.

“When the time is right,” he responded, taking a sip of his drink.

Ororo rolled her eyes.

You’d all finished eating a good while later and the check came. After you’d both put cash down, he mumbled under his breath with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Meet me outside in a second, okay?”

He slipped out of his seat and you watched him disappear around the corner.

No one had noticed him leave his seat, too engrossed in conversation. After a minute or two, you muttered something about using the bathroom before you left the table and swiftly made your way back to the entrance you had come in through. It was starting to rain a little, barely drizzling.

Logan was standing in the parking lot with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. He beckoned you over when he saw you, taking your hand in his and leading you to a spot outside that wasn’t directly in front of the door. His nose was starting to turn pink from the cold evening air and your cheeks were doing the same.

“So,” he swallowed hard, brushing his thumb over your knuckles, “I guess it’s about time I asked you, huh?”

“Ask me what?’

You were smiling so wide that your face ached. You knew exactly what, but of course you wanted to hear him say it.

His expression mirrored yours and he let go of one of your hands so he could cup your face.

“Would you be my girl?”

It may have been a little juvenile - the teasing, the hiding, the avoidance of labeling what you had - but it had worked.

“I already am,” you told him, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He happily reciprocated, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you even closer.

If either of you had taken a second to look around you first , you would’ve spotted the rest of the team turning the corner the second you kissed him. 

“No way!”

Marie’s squeal echoed through the parking lot and both of you jumped, turning towards the sound. You both stood in stunned silence, Logan’s arms still locked around your waist.

“Uh…” He was like a deer in headlights.

“I should’ve guessed,” Scott clicked his tongue, irritated that he hadn’t figured you out sooner.

“Guessed what? We’re - uh, we were just - “ Logan shot you a look, hoping you’d be able to think of something on the spot - even with his arms still locked around you. You could’ve squirmed out of his hold, made some unconvincing excuse about having something in your eye and needing his help. You almost did. Looking up at him, his features highlighted by the flood lights that illuminated the nearly empty lot and his cheeks peppered in rain drops, you had a realization. You didn’t want to lie. You didn’t feel the need to anymore. You weren’t afraid it wasn’t going to work or that you might be better off as enemies rather than lovers. Everything felt like it was finally right - as if every piece of your life finally fit into its perfect place. If you were wrong - fuck it. You’d deal with the consequences later if you had to. 

“Kissing. We were kissing - we’re dating,” you sputtered out to your friends, looking back to Logan after. You almost expected him to be embarrassed, to tell you to keep your mouth shut.

 But he was smiling. He was smiling wider than you’d probably ever seen. He leaned his head down to kiss your forehead affectionately, mumbling into your hair, “I guess the cat’s out of the bag now, huh?”

You hummed in affirmation and peeked back at everyone else. 

“How? Since when? Oh my god, I need to know everything,” Marie was as giddy as could be, nearly jumping up and down.

“Since they went on that mission where they had to pretend to be married,” Ororo piped up, “they liked pretending a little too much.”

You all began walking to the two cars you came in, Logan’s arm draped around your shoulders. He was holding you so close that you were practically stepping on his boots.

“Aw,” you heard Marie whisper to Bobby from behind you, “they’re so sweet together.”

“Now that they're not trying to kill each other? Yeah,” he replied with a small laugh.

“I thought you guys hated each other,” Scott said, “what happened?

“Well,” you smiled to yourself, “he’s a good fake husband, so I figured he might make an alright boyfriend.”

You stopped when you approached the car and Logan wrapped you into a tight embrace, your face smushed against his chest. You giggled into his shirt until he finally let you go.

“How’d you guys even keep it under wraps anyway?” Scott asked.

You looked up to Logan, “Willpower?”

He chuckled, “I don’t know, really,” he rested his hands at your waist, “I guess we got lucky that you guys aren’t too bright.”

Ororo lightly smacked the back of his shoulder, rolling her eyes but holding a smile on her face.

You all piled into the cars you’d came in - you, Logan, Marie and Bobby in one and Jean, Scott and Ororo in another - and made your way home. Logan drove and you sat beside him, his hand in yours for most of the ride.

When you all got home and everyone went off to their rooms, Logan stopped you with a gentle grip on your wrist.

“Would you, um,” he looked to the floor for a moment, biting back a smile, “would you maybe want to spend the night in my room?”

You and Logan had been alone together a handful of times, but never like that - in his bedroom. The thought made your palms start to sweat. It wasn’t that you hadn’t thought of it - you’d been together about a month now and every time you’d gotten the chance to make out, you usually didn’t have an opportunity to go any further. Someone would call your name, Logan’s phone would ring, you’d hear footsteps - always something to pull you apart. It was torture, knowing you could kiss him till his hands started to creep up your shirt or your hand rested on his belt buckle but never actually get to go any further.

“We don’t have to do anything but sleep,” Logan could see the hesitation in your expression, “whatever you’re comfortable with.”

“I’d love to,” you replied, letting him take your hand in his and lead you down the hall. 

“How about this - I'll change into pajamas in my room, you can change in yours and then come down,” he swiped his thumb over your knuckles, “is that alright?”

You almost wanted to insist you could change in his room - let him see you bare in front of him like you wanted for weeks - but you simply nodded and slipped your hand from his grasp as you walked the short distance to your room. After changing into a tank top and pajama shorts, you shuffled up to his door in your slippers and gave a small knock.

He answered in an instant, wearing sweatpants and his usual white beater. You unintentionally let out a sigh, eyes immediately scanning over his muscular torso under the thin white fabric. 

Christ, he’s hot.

“Everything alright, pumpkin’?���

It didn’t help that he was so damn sweet to you.

“Huh? Uh - yeah, I just,” you stopped, realizing there wasn’t much of a need for an excuse, “I like the way you look in that.”

You boldly reached out to playfully tug the hem. He smiled and used your hand on him to pull you out of the hallway and into his room, wrapping you in his arms. 

“Yeah?” He said softly, kissing your cheek and forehead before finally meeting your lips, “I like the way you look in these.”

His hand slid down to the hem of your shorts, hiking them up a little to squeeze your upper thigh.

You giggled, a blush forming across your cheeks.

“And you’re so damn cute,” he led you to his bed, laying down and patting the spot next to him, “c’mere, sweetheart.”

Still, even after all those weeks, the pet names made you feel weak in the knees.

You obeyed instantly, crawling onto the mattress and snuggling up next to him. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, steady and strong. 

Logan had a mirror across the room, coincidentally angled so that, from where you were, you could both see your reflection. He was playing with your hair when he began to stare at your reflection, smiling to himself.

“What?” You interrogated, looking up at him and then back to the mirror.

“We look good together,” he admitted, “well, you look good.”

You clicked your tongue, “are you kidding? Please, girls practically throw themselves at you.”

“Well, there’s only one girl I ever really wanted to throw herself at me.”

“I think you got your wish.”

You still had that spark - the back and forth quips and competitive nature - except that it was always something sweet now.

“I love you, a lot,” he muttered into the top of your head, pulling you as close as you could lay to him with your leg slung over his thighs.

“I love you too, Logan,” you smiled into his shirt, taking in the smell of him.

His hand came to rest on your thigh, gently kneading and squeezing. You already felt your breath quicken and heart start to race again as his fingertips traced the hem of your shorts. 

“Like I said,” he cooed, having picked up on your rapid heartbeat, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

Staring up at him, his large hand still kneading your upper thigh, you’d decided - just like in the parking lot earlier - you’d had enough of holding back. You swiftly brought yourself further on top of him, straddling his lap with your knees on either side. You didn’t give him time to protest as you cupped his face and kissed him in a slow mess of tongues and teeth, savoring the feeling of finally having him beneath you. It wasn’t long before his hands found home on your thighs, his fingers already slotting beneath the fabric of your shorts. He then slid his hands up to squeeze your ass, pushing you even further into him while your tongue explored the inside of his mouth. When you finally pushed yourself up with your hands on his chest, he almost looked dazed. 

“I wouldn’t start somethin’ you can’t finish,” he panted, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips.

“Oh, I think I’ll finish,” you joked, raising your eyebrows at the innuendo. 

“Yeah? I know you will.”

You squealed and giggled when he flipped you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. 

“Been wantin’ to get my hands on you like this forever, you know,” he continued with a wicked smile, peppering kisses from your jaw to your collarbone, “thinkin’ about you.”

“W-What were you thinking about?” you managed to stutter out, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head when he began to lightly suck and bite at your warm skin.

“Having you here, in my bed. Getting to undress you, having your thighs ‘round my head.”

You nearly choked on your saliva at the filthy way he was mumbling against your skin and squeezing your hips.

“Me too,” was all you could say, lost in the feeling of his hands now sliding under your tank top, resting right below your tits.

“ ‘s that what you thought about?”

You can tell he wanted you to say it, let him know just how bad you wanted him.

“I thought about being in your bed, sitting on your lap,” you took a deep breath, “and having you - having you, uh…”

Your sentence trailed off, cheeks tinted pink.

“What, sweetheart? C’mon, don’t be shy. What do you want me to do, huh?”

He still knew how to tease you, even if it wasn’t out of spite anymore. 

“Fuck,” you swallowed audibly, “want you to eat me out, fuck me - anything.”

You sounded desperate and you knew it. You really didn’t care, too engrossed in everything about him to even consider it. 

“Really?”

Your eyes met his, filled with lust and ambition to please you any way you wanted. His lips were parted in surprise when he first heard your words, slowly turning into a devious smile.

“Please.”

That was all he needed to trail his lips down your shoulders, gently pushing the straps of your tank top down. He sat up to let you pull it off and if he wasn’t already set on worshiping you, he definitely was now.

You’d yanked the garment over your head and onto the floor, revealing your bare chest. 

Logan groaned, laying you back down and almost immediately latching his lips onto the newly exposed and incredibly soft skin. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbled against you as he took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue.

“Oh my god,” you huffed quietly, arching your back to push yourself even further into him.

He was trying to hold back a smug grin, switching between each breast, sucking and biting gently.

“ ‘s good, baby?”

You were lost for words, even more so when you could see the string of spit that connected his mouth to one of your tits.

“Mm-hm,” you hummed, your fingers having found their home in Logan’s hair. 

You whined when he pulled his mouth from you with an audible pop.

“Words, sweetheart,” he told you, his eyes glued to yours while he licked his own spit off his lips. 

“”Fuck, yes, yes -“

You were cut off by your own moan, gasping when you felt the pressure of his thigh in between yours. He slid his hands down your body to grab your ass in an attempt to grind you down on his leg.

“I like it when you make those noises for me,” he muttered into your chest, his hands still kneading your ass when he pulled you forwards.

You wanted him for so long that the reality of being with him had made you over sensitive to his touch. Even through the fabric of your panties and shorts, the feeling was intoxicating.

You were practically whining as he ground you down so hard that you were soaked all the way through your shorts and panties, the fabric of both sliding to the side.

“Fuck, you’re so wet already,” he chuckled a little, feeling the soaked patch on his sweatpants, “all for me?”

You hummed, hands tugging at his hair, “for-for you.”

His hands came around to the front of your shorts, his fingers hooking onto the fabric.

“Can I take these off you?”

“Please,” you responded immediately, already lifting your hips off the bed so he could drag your shorts down your legs. 

When he turned to throw them somewhere on the floor, he caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your chest was heaving and your hair was all over the place from rolling around in the bed. He could see that you were still looking up at him, even when he was turned away.

“I got an idea, scoot up a bit,” he told you suddenly when he turned back to face you. You moved forward on the mattress as he momentarily stood up, stripping himself of his beater. He sat behind you and arranged himself so that he was holding your back against his chest with his arms around your waist, his legs spread out so you could lay between them.

You instantly caught sight of your reflection in the mirror. Your head was leaned back on his shoulder and he planted delicate kisses down your neck.

“ ‘s that why you wanted to sit like this?” you nodded weakly in the direction of the mirror, your eyes nearly fluttering close when he slid one of his hands to rest on the inside of your thigh.

“You look real pretty, I wanna see all of you,” he explained, his middle finger grazing your cunt through your damp panties.

Your eyes were glued to your reflection - your legs spread with his hand between them and purple hickies darkening on your chest. Logan was staring at your reflection too, his mouth still working on your neck.

“Look at you, all spread out for me,” he mumbled into your ear, “so fucking gorgeous.”

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips. If he kept saying all those filthy things, it wasn't going to take long before you were coming apart in his arms.

You shivered when his fingers hooked around the wet crotch of your underwear and moved it to the side.

You could hear him swear under his breath from behind you, his fingers barely grazing your heat.

“God, Logan,” you were squirming, trying to push your hips towards his hand, “you’re gonna make me beg?”

You could see him smirk into your shoulder in the mirror, “you know what?”

He moved his hands to drag your panties off, nearly tearing them in the process.

“Yeah, I am.”

He let his head fall back to rest on the headboard, lidded eyes staring into your reflection while his hands laid still on the outside of your hips - even farther away from where you wanted him. He really wasn’t going to move an inch until he heard you beg for it, though he couldn’t help himself from digging his fingers into your soft flesh.

You groaned in frustration, “Fucking hate you.”

“Nah, you don’t.”

His lips grazed your earlobe and you wanted to roll your eyes at the smug look on his face, “Now, c’mon, baby. Beg.”

You moved your hands behind you so you could thread your fingers through the hair at the back of his head.

“Fuck, please, Logan - need you.”

“Need me how?”

He really was an asshole.

“Need your hands - need your fingers, please,” you groaned.

“I don’t know, you think you’ve been a good girl? Think you deserve it?”

You would’ve been pissed at him had he not turned you on beyond belief. You gave in, becoming putty in his arms.

“ ‘m good - been good for you,” you whined, using one of your hands on his to try and move it between your legs, “please.”

He sighed, returning his hand back to the hot skin of your inner thigh, “Shit, need me that bad? Huh, pretty girl?”

You were so worked up you could have cried from his teasing. You nodded eagerly, attempting to clamp your thighs together to force his hand to at least graze your cunt that was dripping onto his sheets.

He clicked his tongue and used his strong hands on the inside of your thighs to spread your legs again, “Gotta keep ‘em open for me, sweetheart.”

He dragged two of his fingers between your folds, messily toying with you. You gasped, gripping his arm and inadvertently leaving imprints from your fingernails.

“So fucking wet,” he huffed, gaze glued to the reflection of your spread legs in the mirror, “Pretty pussy’s all mine.”

You were already whimpering and moaning from the slightest touch.

“ ‘s yours - fuck, I‘m-I’m yours,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

He hummed in agreement, his fingers prodding at your entrance.

“Please, please, please,” you whined, trying to push your hips forward.

“I think you’ve been real good, angel,” he was slipping his fingers further into you at an agonizingly slow pace, “think you deserve it.”

You were whining and whimpering so loud that you were sure someone had to have heard you by now. You couldn’t help the noises slipping from your mouth, feeling like you’d black out just from the sight of Logan’s fingers slipping between your swollen lips and into your cunt.

When he finally thrusted his fingers into you all the way down to his knuckles, you brought a hand up to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle what you knew would be a pornographically loud moan.

He clicked his tongue, grabbing at your wrist to tug your hand away.

“Uh-uh, baby,” he panted into your ear, curling his fingers inside you, “wanna hear you - want everyone to know who’s makin’ you feel good like this.”

His thumb started to draw circles around your clit in rhythm with the movement of his fingers and you could feel the pressure in your stomach starting to build.

“Fuck,” he cursed, his jaw hung open while he watched his fingers disappear inside you over and over again with ease, “takin’ my fingers so well. I think you’d take somethin’ else real well, too.”

The intent of his words nearly drove you over the edge, your mind unable to stop conjuring up images of what it would be like when he finally did fill you like you’d wanted him to.

“Logan, Logan, I’m -,” you groaned, so close to finally coming on his fingers.

Until he slipped them out of you and pulled his hand away completely.

You choked out a sob, squeezing your eyes shut in frustration.

“I’m gonna let you finish, don’t worry,” he promised. You watched him suck his fingers clean before he used his arm around you to rearrange you both so that he was laying on his back and you were facing him with your legs straddling his torso. You could feel his erection poking at your ass and you licked your lips when you imagined being able to take him in your mouth, letting him fuck your throat to the point that your chin and the base of his cock were coated in your drool.

“C’mere, sweetheart,” Logan’s voice brought you out of thought and you let him guide your legs up until your knees were on either side of your head.

You looked down at him in curiosity, not yet understanding what it was he wanted to do.

Noticing your expression, he wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull your dripping pussy closer to his mouth.

“I’m gonna let you finish, baby, but it’s gotta be on my mouth. Sit.”

“You…” you hesitated for a second, feeling your face redden, “you want me to sit on your face? What if I crush you? Or suffocate you?’’

He chuckled at your concern, lovingly caressing your thighs, “You won’t, trust me. It’ll feel good, I promise. Besides, If you did suffocate me? I don’t think I’d wanna go any other way.”

You laughed nervously and let him pull you down further, sinking onto his face. His tongue swiped up your folds and you gripped the headboard so you wouldn’t fall forward.

“Jesus, Logan,” you gasped, your other hand gripping his hair, “feels so fucking good.”

“Uh-huh, told you, princess. Jus’ lemme take care of you,” he mumbled into your pussy, eating you like he was starved. He moved his head back and forth and up and down to lick every inch of you he could.

“I think I would’ve - ah, would’ve said somethin’ to you much sooner if I knew you could do this,” you joked a little, your small chuckle turning into a gasp when he slipped his tongue even further down so he was inside you. He hummed into you, his nose nudging against your clit. You began to grind your hips back and forth over his mouth, drunk off the way he moved his tongue.

“Atta girl,” he grunted, “use me, c’mon.”

His hairy arms were hooked around your thighs like a vice, to the point that you couldn’t lift your hips even if you wanted to. When his eyes weren’t trained on you above him, they were squeezed shut in an attempt to savor every second his tongue was in your pussy. He was pulling your thighs forward every time you rocked yourself back and forth, desperate to feel you come on - in - his mouth. 

You could already feel the pressure building in your stomach. The obscene wet noises coming from his mouth messily eating your cunt didn’t do much to ease it, either. Your eyes rolled back and you continued to ride his face, mouth hung open in ecstasy. Logan could tell you were close just from how sloppy your movements had become. 

“Gonna come for me already, honey?”

You hated how hot it was when he teased you, mocked your desperation.

“Fuck, yeah,” you groaned, your hips rolling forward.

“Lemme see it, pretty girl, come for me.”

You gasped at the filth spilling from his lips into you. It was more than enough to finally make the tension snap in your lower stomach, still rocking your hips over his mouth while you whimpered his name over and over again like a prayer.

Logan was practically growling into your cunt, feeling your muscles contract around his prodding tongue. He was trying to catch anything that possibly came from your release. You tasted good, but when you finished? Even fucking better.

“Lo-Logan, too much, s’ too much,” you tried to protest as he kept your thighs locked around his face, still lapping at you without slowing his pace. He hummed in response and finally let you go when he was sure he’d licked you clean.

You lifted your hips and moved to sit beside him on your heels, almost in pain at the loss of physical contact. When you finally got to see his face, his lips were red and raw, his chin and even the side of his cheeks coated in your slick. You watched in awe as he wiped his cheek, bringing his hand up to his mouth after to lick it clean.

“Taste fucking amazing,” he assured you, keeping his eyes on yours when he sucked on one of his fingers.

You caught sight of his obvious and rather large erection and your mouth began to water. Once again, you were lost in the thought of how good it would be to feel the weight of his cock in your mouth.

“You alright, baby?”

“Yeah, I - um,” you sighed, leaning forward on your hands, “can I - can I have it in my mouth? Just for a little bit?”

Your hand rested on his hip, fingers grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, dangerously close.

“Shit,” he huffed, his cock twitching from the anticipation, “you wanna?”

You nodded eagerly, pulling his pants and boxers down his thighs when he lifted his hips.

“Hey,” he tenderly stopped your hand as you reached to touch him, “I’m tellin’ you now, girl -  you can suck it ‘cause you asked so nicely but I’m not comin’ unless it’s in you.”

He let go of your wrist and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, continuing to speak.

“I can fill your throat another time, yeah?”

You were speechless, lidded eyes switching from his face to his swollen cock and back again. You nodded in agreement.

You guessed Logan would be big - he was generally a large guy - but you could feel the drool gathering in your mouth when his cock sprung out of his boxers to hit his stomach. He was fucking huge. You might’ve been nervous if you weren’t so eager to fit him into your mouth. You finally leaned down to wrap a hand around the base of his cock, softly licking at his leaking tip.

Logan threaded your hair between his fingers, gathering as much as he could to form a makeshift ponytail that was held together by his fist. 

“Like seein’ your pretty face. You’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, you know that?”

His words only spurred you on and you gathered as much saliva as possible so you could spit onto his cock. When you did, you started to stroke him in a slow rhythm that had him rocking his hips towards your hand already. His mouth hung open and his eyes were glued to your movements, watching you work your hand up and down. Your spit coated your hand and his cock to the point that it was dripping down his balls.

The moment you finally closed your mouth around him, he was practically a mess.

You took him as deep as you could, relaxing your throat and steadily breathing. You gagged as his tip hit the back of your throat and he groaned. He watched your head bob up and down while you simultaneously stroked whatever you couldn’t fit into your mouth. He huffed out your name in between cursing under his breath. His gaze caught the mirror he’d nearly forgotten about and he could’ve came just from the sight of your mouth drooling around him.

“So good, baby,” he sighed, licking his lips, “you look so pretty suckin’ my cock.”

You reveled in the praises spilling from his lips. Chasing more, you used your hand that wasn’t around him to cup his balls and massage gently. He actually whimpered and you could feel Logan’s legs start to shake a bit.

“Alright, enough - ,” he grunted, using his grip on your hair to pull your mouth from him and push your hand away.

You almost looked hurt, pouting while looking between him and his glistening cock. Truthfully, you liked the taste of him. Loved it, really, so much so that you had to hold back from diving right back into position. Just the idea had you clenching your thighs together when you thought of it. When your mouth was already on him? You were so wet again that it was starting to smear across your inner thighs.

“Sorry, doll,” he apologized while swiping fallen strands of hair from your face, “too close.”

It felt exhilarating being able to turn big, bad, scary Wolverine into a whimpering mess after only a couple minutes in your mouth.

“I’m gonna come in you,” he reiterated, “gonna make you mine.”

You just about melted into putty from his words.

“ ‘m yours, ‘v been yours.”

Your voice was desperate and you crawled onto him, straddling his hips. Your bare cunt slid against the base of his cock and his hips jerked up.

“Fuck,” he panted, “you wanna know somethin’? Been thinking about this for so long, even when I thought you hated me - I couldn’t help it.”

“Me too,” you replied, hands on his chest to steady yourself, “even when I thought you hated me. Used to think - to think about jus’ getting you alone.”

“Yeah?” He teased, one of his hands coming down to align his cock with your entrance, “what did you think about doing when you got me alone, hm?”

“I - ah, f-fuck,” you tried to speak, stuttering when he started to slip himself in as slowly as possible, “letting you fuck me, having - having your fingers in me.”

“So, is it as good as you imagined?”

“Mm,” you tried to respond and only whined from the pressure of Logan pushing you down further onto his cock and stretching you out, “better, it’s better.”

“You think you can take all of it, sweetheart?”

“I need it, please, please, Logan - need you.”

You could rarely recognize your own voice, strained and desperate.

“Only ‘cause you begged so nice.”

In one hard thrust, he pushed your hips down onto his.

Your jaw hung open and your eyes rolled back into your head. You’d never felt so fucking full before, like he reached every inch of where you wanted him. 

“Fucking - Christ, Logan, you - ah,” your sentence was cut off when he began to grind up into you, using his grip on your hips to keep you steady and gently help guide you up and down. 

“Hm? What, baby?”

When you sat back down on him, he used an iron grip to keep you where you were, pushing himself as far into you as he possibly could. The friction on your clit made your pussy twitch and he definitely felt it, pulling you back and forth a little bit.

Again, you couldn’t speak - too distracted by the indescribable feeling of having him sheathed completely inside you. Your eyes started to water, tears forming from the overwhelming pleasure in the pit of your stomach. 

“Fuck me,” you nearly sobbed, leaning forward to bury your face in his neck, “please, please.”

He finally let you lift your hips up and down again and you were a whining fucking mess. Logan could see over your shoulder into the mirror and he marveled at the white ring you left around the base of his cock every time you lifted your hips. You were messy, exactly how he wanted you - he’d probably lick you clean after, if you’d let him.

You were rambling into his neck, panting, “so fucking - you’re so big, oh my god, need you all - ah - all the time.”

He was smirking to himself, smug from how he was able to fuck you to the point that you were just letting go completely - telling him every thought that popped into your mind while you were still on top of him. You worked yourself up to a steady rhythm and he indulged in the image of your tits bouncing above him when you sat up. 

“So good, honey - takin’ me so well, like you were made for me,” he groaned. His eyes never left yours.

“ ‘m made for - for you,” you slurred, rolling your hips.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Who’s this pussy belong to, huh? Tell me.”

“Yours, I - it’s yours, Logan.”

Your thighs started to ache pretty quickly, your pace faltering as he kept steadily drilling up into you. 

“Are you sore, baby? You wanna switch?”

His voice was so soft in comparison to how he was speaking moments earlier through gritted teeth. You nodded and let him lay you on your back, climbing over you and caging you in with his forearms on either side of your head. He placed a tender kiss on your forehead, both cheeks, the tip of your nose and finally, your lips. You were absolutely giddy from the sickly sweet moments you shared inbetween the times where he was fucking you so hard you were out of breath. 

Your ankles locked behind Logan’s back to pull him into you while he tried to guide himself with his hand. He slipped back in effortlessly and ground his hips forward, pinning you down to the mattress. One of his arms was snaked around your back to hold you closer and the other was holding your wrists together above your head.

His hips rolled forward and he hit a spot inside of you that made the fire in the pit of your stomach rise.

You choked out a sob and tried to squirm in an attempt to free your wrists, but you both knew there was no way you’d wiggle out of his grip unless he let you. To no surprise, a man made of mostly metal was almost impossibly strong when he pinned you down with his hands and hips.

“I gotcha’.” he panted, so close that your noses brushed together when he thrust forward, “you’re not goin’ anywhere, sweetheart.”

As if you’d want to move from your spot underneath him.

Your eyes caught the shining metal of the dog tags hanging from his neck, swinging back and forth over your chest when he moved. When you looked back up to his face, his eyes were boring into yours. His face was flushed and his mouth hung open, sweat accumulating on his brow. He looked fucking gorgeous. You were going to tell him so, try to lean up to kiss him, but he spoke again before you could.

“I’m in love with you - ‘m so in love with you, you know that?”

The pace of his thrusts quickened and you could’ve cried at the sincerity had he not been drilling into you so hard that you could barely open your eyes.

“I - I’m, ah - in love with - with you, too,” you choked out between gasps.

“So pretty,” he muttered, finally letting go of your wrists so he could hold your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him, “i’m so fucking lucky.”

It was all too much - the sincere adoration in his voice combined with the filthy way he was snapping his hips into yours - and you could feel the knot in your lower stomach start to come undone.

“Logan, fuck, I’m -,” you tried to tell him you were close, but his thrusts were knocking the wind out of you.

“God, please - c’mon, c’mon,” he was pleading through gritted teeth, trying with everything in him to hold back from coming before you did. His hand slipped between your bodies so he could draw tight circles around your clit and your eyes squeezed shut in ecstacy. 

You were chanting his name after a couple more strokes, tears rolling down the side of your face while he pounded you through your orgasm. You were practically seeing stars, your legs shaking around his waist.

He could feel your muscles contract around him and his movements became sloppy. He was grunting with every roll of his hips, muttering praises under his breath.

So fucking pretty

Look so beautiful like this

So perfect

He was spilling into you seconds later, animalistically groaning into your ear. His hips slowed to a halt, his arms still wrapped around you. You were both shiny and sticky with sweat, panting with flushed faces. When he pulled his face from your ear, he was beaming like an idiot, already drowsy.

“Was that good, baby?”

He was still out of breath, using one arm to weakly hold himself above you while he stroked your hair. 

“Are you serious? More than good,” you chuckled, “amazing.”

He tenderly kissed your forehead and rolled beside you, immediately wrapping you in his arms.

“Don’t we have to clean up?” you asked, eyes already starting to flutter closed.

“Mhm,” he hummed, nuzzling his face into the back of your neck, “can do it later - wanna cuddle.”

You grinned wide, amused by how damn cute he was. You simply hummed in agreement, resting your hand over his.

“Logan?”

“Mm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

A/N: I had to close my laptop and walk away a a couple time while writing this so I hope it drives you as insane as it did me! I'm gnawing at the bars of my enclosure

If you enjoyed, thank you for reading and pls like/reblog!! <3 and thank u sm for the love on part 1!

[deansbeer]

✷ ◟ ECHOES OF DESIRE ৎ᠀

library introduction minors do NOT interact!

SYNOPSIS. you never expected to hear dean's thoughts this clearly—especially not when they're about you in the most unexpected way.

WARNING(S). mentions of masturbation | f!reader | overwhelming thoughts | telepathy | physical sensations triggered by another person's thoughts | heavy unresolved romantic/sexual tension | mutual pining | awkwardness | emotional vulnerability | telepath!reader | older!dean | reader is in her mid twenties | light jealousy (man gets jealous of a bunny. wild, huh? believe me, i know.) | tension-filled misunderstandings | new unexplained ability reader develops.

KARI'S NOTES. ignore the fact that my blog is a mess of things & i've changed the layout for my fics many times :) can this also be considered an early bday gift for dean ??? i have a lil something planned for his special day but idk 🤷🏻‍♀️ this is somewhat cutesy ig lol + tiny disclaimer <3 the photos above r used solely for aesthetic purposes !!!!

it's late in the bunker—the kind of silence that feels heavy, pressing against your ears as you sit alone in the library. sam and dean have both retreated to their rooms for the night, finally giving in to the exhaustion that comes with long hunts and endless research. but you? you're wide awake, as usual, hunched over a pile of lore books with your bunny, bolt, nibbling on hay in a little pile you set out for him. the faint sound of his chewing and the occasional rustle of paper are the only things breaking the stillness.

you pop another blue peanut m&m into your mouth, the faint crunch grounding you as your eyes scan the faded text in front of you. you're so close—so damn close—to deciphering the last piece of this puzzle for their next case. you can feel it right there, just out of reach, the answer dancing at the edge of your mind.

but then, like a radio station suddenly switching frequencies, you hear it.

someone's thoughts.

you pause mid-bite, your jaw tightening as you inwardly groan. who the hell is thinking this loud so late at night?

it's not unusual for you to pick up on stray thoughts; it's part of being a telepath. but this? this is loud. intrusive. like someone shouting directly into your brain. you pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to block it out, to focus on the task at hand. you've gotten good at tuning people out over the years, but some thoughts are harder to ignore than others.

you shake your head, turning the page of the lore book in front of you, determined to push through the distraction. but the thoughts don't stop. they keep coming, louder and more insistent, like waves crashing against the shore.

and then you realize something.

these thoughts… they're familiar.

at first, you think it's sam. he has a tendency to overthink even in his sleep, his dreams sometimes bleeding into his waking thoughts. but no, this isn't sam. his mind is quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with deep, dreamless sleep.

it has to be dean.

your heart skips a beat, your breath catching in your throat as the realization settles in.

dean.

you grip the edge of the table, your fingers curling tightly around the wood as his thoughts flood your mind. he's begging. it's desperate, raw, like he's pleading for something he can't have. but it's not just his words—his emotions are pouring through, too, overwhelming you with their intensity.

your chest tightens, your heartbeat quickening to match his. there's a strange knot forming in your lower abdomen, a heat that spreads through your body, and you have to clutch at your stomach to steady yourself. biting down on your bottom lip, you try to hold back the whimper threatening to escape.

he's calling your name. not out loud, but in his mind. over and over, like a prayer.

and then it happens—something that's never happened to you before.

you see through his eyes.

for a moment, you're no longer in the library. you're somewhere else entirely, looking through dean's gaze as he lies in bed. your breath hitches as you take in the scene before you: his hand, moving with a rough, almost frantic rhythm over himself, and in the other hand?

a polaroid.

your polaroid.

it's a picture he took of you during one of your outings, the sunlight making your skin glow as you posed for a photo. you remember the moment vividly—how he insisted on taking the photo despite your protests, how he teased you about how good you looked in your little dress.

and now he's using it.

you let out a tiny gasp, the sound startling bolt, who looks up at you with wide, curious eyes. you're back in the library now, your cheeks burning as you try to process what you just saw.

dean. was. masturbating. to. your. photo.

you shake your head, trying to banish the image from your mind, but it's too late. it's seared into your memory, the raw need in his thoughts still lingering like an echo.

you don't get much sleep after that.

the next morning, you're in the kitchen, trying to shake off the haze from the night before. bolt sits at your feet, munching on his breakfast as you make yourself a cup of coffee. you're dressed in one of your favorite nightgowns, a tiny blue satin thing with lace trimming, paired with a matching silk robe. it's comfortable, soft against your skin, and you don't think much about it as you move around the kitchen.

you're lost in thought, replaying everything from the night before, when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. you turn, startled, and there he is.

dean.

he's rubbing his tired eyes, his hair sticking up in every direction, and his t-shirt clings to his chest in a way that makes it hard not to stare. he doesn't say anything at first, just grunts in acknowledgment as he heads for the coffee pot, but you can feel the tension radiating off him.

"morning," you say, your voice light, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

"mornin'," he mutters, his voice rough with sleep.

you take a seat at the table, bolt hopping onto your lap as you sip your coffee. dean follows a moment later, his eyes flicking to the bunny and then to you.

"does he have to sit on your lap?" he grumbles, though the jealousy in his thoughts is loud and clear.

you can't help but smirk. "why are you so jealous of a bunny?”

his eyes narrow, and he shoots you a pointed look. "stay out of my head, sweetheart."

but you're not about to let him off that easily. setting your coffee down, you lean forward slightly, your gaze locking onto his.

"how come you were begging for me last night?"

he freezes, his jaw tightening as his eyes widen. for a moment, he looks like a deer caught in headlights, and you almost feel bad for him. almost.

"i don't know what you're talkin' about," he says quickly, his voice stiff as he avoids your gaze.

you frown, not buying his act for a second. "dean."

he tries to deflect, asking you something about the research you were doing last night, but you're not letting this go.

"don't lie to me," you say softly, your voice firm. "i know what i heard. i know what i felt."

his cheeks flush, a rare sight that only makes you more determined. but DEAN WINCHESTER is nothing if not stubborn, and he's not about to admit what you already know.

two idiots in love, too afraid to take the leap.

and yet, the truth lingers in the air between you, unspoken but undeniable.

SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @fallbhind @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @lustagel @rafespreciosa @jasvtsc @voidsuites @t3l3vangelism . . . ☆

[vinvantae]

How the current F1 grid acts after going from your friend to lover

Some sections inspired by prompts from @me-writes-prompts

Some are longer than others just depending on how inspired I was, not playing favourites I swear!

Some are angsty, some are fluffy. Some are a lil sexy but they’re all basically just different post friends-to-lovers scenarios. Enjoy!

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#1 Max Verstappen

He relishes in your warm touch against his skin, but he was still so unfamiliar when it happened in front of his friends - even the soft press of your lips against his cheek had his cheeks turning the darkest shade of pink, his next words coming out as stammers. He would be annoyed by the way his friends - your friends - teased him about it but after years of pining - he was just glad he finally got to call you his, your soft giggles filling his ears as he proudly admitted that he was, in fact, a massive simp.

“You’re cute.” You whisper in his ear, laughing when somehow his cheeks darkened even more.

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#2 Logan Sargeant

You could see Logan watching you out of the corner of your eye as the two of you made lunch - you couldn’t help the smile that tugged your mouth. “You’re staring, Logan.” His cheeks flushed, but he approaches you nonetheless - his eyes sparkling. “Can…” He took a deep breath. “May… May I kiss you? Please.” A soft hum left your lips as you looped your arms over his shoulders, fingers carding through the hair at the nape of his neck. “You don’t have to ask… I’m yours.”

He ducked his head to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to saying that.”

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#3 Daniel Ricciardo

The moment the two of you locked eyes, you burst into laughter - tears rolling down your cheeks as you lent into his hold, his cackles bouncing off of the walls as the people around you exchanged looks. “Did I say something funny?” You tried to explain but you couldn’t get a full sentence out without your own giggles cutting you off.

“Are you guys crazy or what?” Daniel managed to calm his laughter just for a moment - his brown eyes sparkling as he looked at you, his smile morphing from one of humour to one of fondness as you tried to calm yourself, wiping away a tear. Crazy in love, maybe.

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#4 Lando Norris

You were rudely awoken by a repeated clacking against your window - none other than Lando stood down on the ground, smiling up at you when you finally opened up the glass to look down. “What on earth are you doing?” You laughed. “You’re my boyfriend now, we don’t need to sneak around anymore.”

When you let him into your place, his hands were immediately on your hips - pressing a deep kiss to your lips. “I miss sneaking around.” He hummed, somehow hauling you even closer. “But I do have to admit… this is better. Showing off to everyone that you’re mine.”

“Yours, huh?” You purr. “Should make me scream loud enough that my neighbours know too.”

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#10 Pierre Gasly

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses you into the wall - his arms caged either side of your head as the music thumps loud in your ears. The smirk that toys on his lips has your heart pounding in your chest. He pressed his body against yours - the months of pining after you were finally over and he had you exactly where he wanted you. “I know exactly what you’re thinking…”

“Oh? You do?” You tease, letting your hands run up his chest. “And what are you gonna do about that, mon amour?”

His chuckle was dark, a thrill zipped up your spine - and as his eyes locked against yours, you knew you were in for a wild night.

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#14 Fernando Alonso

You couldn’t wrap your head around how often his hands were on you - before it was always just a ghostly hand on the small of your back or a gentle hand on your shoulder but now? He’d haul you onto your lap whenever he got the chance, his large hands finding purchase on your waist. Or he’d sweep you into a kiss in front of large crowds, not caring who was watching - and you couldn’t get enough.

“Nando, if I knew you were going to be like this… I would’ve confessed my feelings for you a whole lot sooner” You laughed, as he had practically run away from his PR agent to sweep you up into a massive hug.

“I don’t know how I managed to keep my hands to myself for all of those years, I’m just glad I don’t have to hold back anymore.”

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#16 Charles Leclerc

As his arms slipped around your middle, chin coming to rest on your shoulder - you felt content. After years of mutual pining, his touch felt more natural than ever. The two of you had always been close and the transitions from friends to lovers was so natural, his touches became more intentional, his hugs lasted longer - his hands lower. You turned in his hold so you could brush your lips together in a longing kiss, his stubbled cheeks in your hands. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too, mon chou.” He hummed. “But unlike all the other times? I can show you just how much.” Your laughter was as light as air as he scooped you up into his arms to whisk you to the confines of your bedroom.

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#18 Lance Stroll

Things were still new, fresh, so you decided to keep the nature of your blossoming relationship between the two of you private. But that didn’t stop you from stealing glances at each other across the garage whenever you could, struggling to hold back the smiles. He was brought back down to earth when an engineer nudged a shoulder against his- turning to be met with a teasing, raised brow.

“So, you two..?”

“We’re friends.”

“Just friends?”

He let his gaze fall back to you, unable to help the smile on his face as you gave him a knowing look.

“Yeah, just friends.”

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#20 Kevin Magnussen

Kevin wasn’t huge on PDA, sure - he was more than happy to hold your hand, but for the most part he kept his hands to himself, especially at work. But when it got busy, sardines packed into a small office space for some last minute announcement - he’d always find his way to your side, arm brushed right up against yours. As Ayao addressed the room, he leant in - his voice a whisper. “Fancy a distraction?”

“Depends what you have in mind, Kev.” You whispered back, eyes forward - trying your best to pay attention, but your cheeks instantly heated up as his hand ghosts over your rear.

“You have no idea, søde.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#22 Yuki Tsunoda

You’d fallen asleep on Yuki before - he used to freeze up, determined not to move an inch in order not to wake you. But this time, with your head on his chest - hand splayed across his shirt, he simply pulled the blanket off of the back of the sofa and laid it across you both.

He smiled softly as you grumbled and snuggled in closer, allowing him to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head and close his own eyes - just enjoying the weight and warmth of your body on top of his.

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#23 Alex Albon

It was surprisingly warm as the two of you laid on a picnic blanket under the stars, your head rested on his chest - a strong arm tucked underneath you. This was the first real time you’d spent together alone since you’d both finally admitted your feelings and it felt so right. You let your eyes flicker across the stars, a soft gasp passing your lips as you witnessed a shooting star.

“I don’t think Greggs is open this late.”

“How on earth did you know I wished for a sausage roll?”

He chuckled softly. “I know you better than anyone else.”

“Do you though?”

His gaze flickered down to you as you propped your chin up on his chest to look up at him, the smile on his face fond. “Of course I do.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#24 Zhou Guanyu

“Open up.”

You opened your mouth, allowing his hand to guide the spoon between your lips - hand cupped beneath your chin to catch any potential dribbles. He watched with eager eyes as you swallowed, the flavours washing over your chin. “Oh my god, that’s delicious.”

“And to think, you doubted me.”

With a playful roll of the eyes, you pressed a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve never cooked anything more than instant ramen in my presence. How was I supposed to know?”

“Cooking is my love language, so get used to it… gonna make sure you’re never hungry.”

“Oh, a boyfriend who’s my own personal chef? I am lucky.”

He grinned at that.

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#31 Esteban Ocon

You wobbled as you fished through the piles of jackets on the bed, trying to fish out your jacket as Esteban leant against the doorframe with a playful smile on his face. “You should just stay here, mon ange.”

A soft whine left your lips. “Estie, I shouldn’t.”

He approached you, his hands wrapping around your middle - pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Stay. I insist… it’s cold out, I’ll keep you warm.”

After a moment of protest, you looped your arms around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss. “Okay, you’ve convinced me.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#44 Lewis Hamilton

Although you were more than friends, you were still yet to let him put a label on it. Too scared that saying you were more than just two people screwing, would open yourself up to heartbreak.

But it was different this time, his eyes full of want as his fingers brushed across the skin of your jaw. You wanted to be his, you lent in to kiss him but his grip on your face stopped you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “Lew, please.”

“You know exactly what I want, sweetheart.” He whispered, lips brushing lightly over yours. “I need you to say it. I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours, Lewis. Always… Now, kiss me.”

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#55 Carlos Sainz

It was crowded and loud, shoulders bumping against yours - throat burning from having to shout loud enough for anyone to hear you. You swirled your drink in your glass, chin propped up on your hand as you lent against the bar. Carlos could see the scowl on your face from across the room, so he politely excused himself from his friends to approach you.

“Mi vida.” Somehow you managed to hear his low purr over the music. “You look bored.”

You looked up to him, his brown eyes boring into yours. “So bored.”

He chuckled softly, pressing a deep kiss to your lips - stealing your breath. “We should definitely get out of here? Don’t you think so?”

It was almost comical how fast you nodded, letting him haul you out of the club.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#63 George Russell

“Stop walking away from me!” He practically yelled, halting you in your tracks - you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. “You’re my best friend, I just.. I just can’t lose you.”

You scowled. “God, I hate that word.”

“Lose?”

“Friend.” You groaned, rubbing your eyes. “George, we’re not just friends, we’ve not been just friends for a long time…”

He stepped closer, taking your hands away from your face - linking your fingers together by your side. “I know, this is all just so new to me. I care about you endlessly… I want this, us, to work.”

You smiled softly, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “We’ll take it one day at a time, okay?”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#77 Valtteri Bottas

“You look tired.”

You looked up from your coffee as Valtteri stepped into the room - his mullet messy from sleep as he stepped around the kitchen counter to give you a kiss. The two of you had been roommates for two years, but had recently found yourselves falling comfortably in a relationship - his bedroom long since abandoned.

“I did not know you had the ability to snore that loud, Val.”

He let out a snort of a chuckle. “Well, it wasn’t like I knew that you sleep with a hundred stuffed animals either.”

You giggled, placing your mug on the counter so you could pull him closer. “You wanna go back to your own room?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

#81 Oscar Piastri

“This was a terrible idea.”

Oscar laughed as he stood just ahead of you on the ice - you were holding onto the railing for dear life as you shuffled your skates towards him. He rolled his eyes and effortlessly skated over. “You’ll never get better if you don’t let go. I won’t let you fall.”

With a huff you finally relinquished your grip and made an attempt to skate, for a moment - it feels like you have it, but a second later you’re crashing face first into Oscar’s chest - the two of you falling back onto the ice.

“Oh my god, Osc. I’m so sorry!” You squeaked. “You okay?”

“I got you flowers for our first date and you gave me a concussion, that doesn’t seem like a fair deal.” He teased. “A kiss would make it better.”

With a playful roll of the eyes you lent down to kiss him - definitely a first date to remember.

══ ❀•°❀°•❀ ══

A lil bit of everything for everyone! Hope you enjoyed x

[ifangirlalot]

I’m not sure if requests are still open or not (if they aren’t just ignore this!!) but if they are, I’d love a really sweet top sal fisher kinda thing!

˗ˏˋ 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐈𝐄 𝐓𝐎𝐏𝐏𝐘 ˎˊ˗ | starring sal fisher

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

*~smut!~* [𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘]: softdom!sal x sub!reader, mentions of p in v, oral (fem receiving), praising (pronouns used): AFAB reader

First piece I've posted in a bit, no other subject than my lil mass murderer himself <3

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 Sal isn't really a rough sex kinda guy anyways, but he also isn't super into being the bottom, so he's a soft dominant all the way. ⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 He's incredibly big on dirty talk, though, even though he doesn't really seem like he would be. (It's always the soft spoken ones, bro!)

"You're being such a good girl for me." "I know it hurts baby, but you're doing so fucking good." "I'm so fucking proud of you for taking all of my cock." "You look so beautiful with your mouth around my dick, baby."

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 Sal loves when you're a mindless little sub baby for him. You sitting on the floor in front of him with your cheek against his leg while he absently rubs your hair and praises you- ugh, heaven for him.

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 If you had a rough day at school or something, he loves edging you to sleep. Just using his fingers to stroke away at your insides, except he doesn't let you cum until you tell him you feel better.

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 Or he just lets you sleepily rut yourself against his cock while murmuring to you in a soft voice.

"Shhh, you don't need to think, just fuck yourself to sleep, little bird."

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 Sal starts getting hella cocky when you become a mindless, drooling mess from bouncing on his cock for hours on end while he just smirks and gives you compliments about it.

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 He loves getting head from you. The sight of you between his legs, struggling to get past a couple inches, tears streaming down your face while you whimper like a good little fuck baby and he gently wipes your tears away with his thumbs and gently talks you through it.

"Ah.. shh, there you go, atta girl.. Just a little further for me? Can you do that baby? Can- ahhh, fuck yeah, there we go, just like that.."

⊹ ִֶָ𓏲࣪𖹭 He also uses his dominance to help you develop a sense of self respect and make healthy habits. You made your bed today? He'll fuck you in it and make it back up for you when you're down. You brushed your teeth? He'll give you the greatest head of your life. You ate breakfast today? He'll rub your clit and tell you how proud he is of you for trying today.

[A Note From Zee]

I apologize for taking so long, I just have not been in the mindset to write recently- Hopefully I can get some more (longer/better) requests settled out this weekend.

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[lumosou]

୨୧ — The Harry Potter boys and their Love Languages ( ˆ͈̑꒳ˆ͈̑ )੭ ; 𖦹 + ♡

ꕤ — Characters ; Harry J Potter. Ron Weasley. Fred Weasley. George Weasley. Neville Longbottom. Draco Malfoy. Cedric Diggory.

ꕤ — Discretion ; none!! just fluff and love.

ꕤ — A/n ; eee i’m so sorry for disappearing for a bit ☹️. but i appreciate alll the support u guys have been showing me on all my works!! ily guys!! so here’s a fun lil treat :3 thank u endlessly 🫶🏻

; masterlist.

୨୧ — Harry J. Potter & Acts Of Service.

Harry isn’t good with words—not the ones that matter, anyway. He stumbles, stammers, gets stuck trying to say how he feels. But when it comes to showing you, there’s no hesitation. His love is found in the way he waits outside the library to walk you back to the common room, how he memorizes your favorite tea and makes sure there’s always enough sugar. It’s the way he notices when you’re too tired to finish an essay and stays up scribbling notes for you even though he’s just as exhausted.

He’s the boy who gives pieces of himself quietly, always watching, always finding the small gaps in your day where he can slip in and help without you asking. Because that’s what he needs—to feel like he’s protecting you, even from the smallest inconveniences.

Harry doesn’t say I love you in grand speeches. He says it in the way he fixes your broken quill without telling you, how he gives you the better seat at dinner, how he’d gladly carry your burdens if you let him. To him, love is action—every unspoken I’ll take care of this wrapped in the quiet hope that you’ll understand.

୨୧ — Ron Weasley & Quality Time.

Ron doesn’t need extravagant displays of affection; he just wants you. To be near you, to sit next to you, to share the little pieces of his world that make him who he is. He thrives in your presence, whether it’s laughing over a ridiculous chess match, walking the long way to class just to keep the conversation going, or sitting quietly by the fire while the hours slip by unnoticed.

Time with you is how Ron shows he cares. It’s in the way he always makes room for you—on the couch, in his day, in his life. He’ll wait for you after lessons, save you a seat at every meal, and offer you the last Chocolate Frog without hesitation. He’s happiest when you’re there, no matter what you’re doing, because your company makes everything better.

For Ron, love is in the small, stolen moments. It’s in the way he notices the things you like, the way he teases you just enough to see you smile. He doesn’t need to say it out loud—not when every minute he spends with you is his way of saying, You matter to me.

୨୧ — Fred Weasley & Physical Touch.

Fred speaks in touches—quick, fleeting, and full of mischief. A hand on your shoulder as he sneaks up behind you, a playful nudge of his elbow to make you laugh, the way his arm always ends up slung around your shoulders like it belongs there. He’s tactile in a way that feels effortless, like he can’t help himself when it comes to you.

But then there are the other touches, the ones that mean more than he ever says out loud. His hand brushing yours under the table, his fingers ghosting over your back when you’re standing close, the way he pulls you into a hug that lasts just a second longer than it should. He’s all warmth, all ease, all Fred.

With him, touch is a language of its own. It’s how he shows he’s paying attention, how he steadies you when the world feels too loud, how he reminds you that he’s there—always, without fail. He’ll twirl a strand of your hair around his finger while you’re trying to focus, just to see you roll your eyes, but his thumb will stroke gently over your knuckles when you’re quiet, reminding you that he sees more than you think.

Fred’s love is in the way he’s never far, his presence a constant, reassuring hum. Every touch, whether playful or tender, says what he won’t always put into words: I’m here. I’ve got you. You’re mine.

୨୧ — George Weasley & Acts Of Service.

George loves quietly, but he loves deeply. His affection isn’t loud or flashy—it’s in the little things, the unnoticed gestures that leave no room for doubt. He’ll stay up late helping you finish that essay, even though he’s got his own work waiting for him. He’ll charm the Gryffindor common room fire to burn just a little brighter when you’re cold, or tuck a sweet you love into your bag without a word.

With George, it’s all about thoughtfulness. He pays attention—really pays attention—to the things that make you happy. He knows your favorite snack, your favorite quill, the way you like your tea. He notices when you’ve had a rough day before you even say a word, and his first instinct is to fix it. A joke, a small gift, a ridiculous gesture—it’s all his way of saying, I’m here for you.

But his acts of service aren’t just practical—they’re personal. He’s always finding ways to make your life brighter, softer, more manageable. If you’re overwhelmed, he’ll take something off your plate without you asking. If you’re sad, he’ll make you laugh, even if it means making a fool of himself. And when you ask why he does it, he’ll shrug, his ears pink, and say, “Because I can.”

George’s love is subtle but unwavering. It’s in every thoughtful detail, every small action, every quiet I’ll take care of it that he hopes you’ll notice but never expects you to. It’s the kind of love that doesn’t demand attention—it just is.

୨୧ — Neville Longbottom & Words Of Affirmation.

Neville’s love is soft, steady, and full of reassurance. He’s the boy who sees the best in you, even when you can’t see it yourself. His words are careful, heartfelt, and impossibly earnest—he’ll tell you how brilliant you are after every small success, remind you how brave you are when you’re doubting yourself, and whisper how beautiful you look when you catch him staring.

But Neville’s words aren’t just sweet; they’re intentional. He notices the things you’re insecure about—the things you try to hide—and makes it his mission to remind you of your worth. When you’re frustrated or overwhelmed, he’s the one who tells you, It’s okay. You’ve got this. You’re stronger than you think. He believes in you wholeheartedly, and he’ll never let you forget it.

His love is in the way he writes you little notes when he’s too shy to say things out loud, the way he always manages to find the perfect compliment at the perfect moment. Neville’s words aren’t about flattery—they’re about truth. He means every single one.

With Neville, you never have to wonder how he feels. His words wrap around you like a warm hug, a constant reminder that you’re loved, cherished, and seen. To him, every You’re amazing is another way of saying, I’m so lucky to have you.

୨୧ — Draco Malfoy & Gift Giving.

Draco shows his love in the way he gives—not just things, but pieces of himself. His gifts are thoughtful, deliberate, and so carefully chosen that you can’t help but feel how much he pays attention. A rare book he tracked down because you mentioned it once, your favorite sweets neatly wrapped and waiting for you after a hard day, or an heirloom quill with a note that simply says, It reminded me of you.

It’s never about the price, though he pretends it is. He’ll roll his eyes and call it no big deal, but the way he watches your reaction gives him away every time. Because it isn’t just a gift—it’s his way of saying, I see you. I notice what makes you happy. I care.

But it’s not all material. Draco gives his time, his attention, his loyalty. He’s there when you need him, even if he doesn’t know what to say. He shows up with a coffee you didn’t ask for or slips a note into your bag that reads, Don’t forget how brilliant you are. It’s in the way he lends you his scarf when you’re cold or makes sure your favorite seat by the fire is saved.

Draco’s love is in the details, the way he always finds the perfect thing to remind you how much you mean to him. He doesn’t say I love you easily, but his gifts? They say it for him. Quietly, fiercely, and completely.

୨୧ — Cedric Diggory & Physical Touch.

Cedric’s love is quiet, steady, and impossibly warm, and it shows in the way he touches you. It’s never demanding, always gentle—a hand at the small of your back as you walk through the halls, his fingers brushing yours under the table, or the way his arm wraps around your shoulders without hesitation when you’re cold. With Cedric, touch isn’t just comfort; it’s a promise: I’m here, I’ve got you.

He’s affectionate in ways that feel effortless. He’ll press a kiss to your temple when no one’s looking, or pull you into a hug so tight it feels like he’s shielding you from the world. When you’re upset, his thumb traces slow circles over the back of your hand, grounding you. And when words fail, it’s his touch that reassures you—light, familiar, unshakable.

But it’s the little moments that matter most. The way he reaches for you instinctively, his fingers intertwining with yours like they belong there. The way his forehead leans against yours in quiet moments, his breath mingling with yours in a silent exchange of you’re everything to me. Cedric doesn’t just touch you; he anchors you.

To him, love is closeness. It’s the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his hand in yours, and the way he’s always, always pulling you closer—because with you, he’s home.

﹙@ 𝗹𝘂𝗺𝗼𝘀𝗼𝘂 ﹚

[serqphites]

been sick for so long and all i need is abby to take care of me like the good girlfriend that she is !!! also look at her lil smile im acc deceased nobody speak to me ever again

16+, modern!au, sfw, throwing up (r!), this is short and ass

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

do not even THINK about lying to this girl about your sickness… she will not buy a single second of it.

"abby i promise you i'm-" sneeze, "fine..." is there even any point trying to defend your case any longer when abby is looking at you like an unimpressed, disappointed mother with her hands on her hips?

she's already called issac to tell him that she isn't going to be in work until you're better. he tried to refuse and order her to come in, but abby didn't back down and stood her ground until he eventually backed off because nobody is more important than her girl!!

she quite literally cannot leave you alone, always rushing whenever she has to leave your side just in case you need her (she definitely trips and eats shit on the stairs because she was trying to get back to your room a lil too fast)

laying on her chest!!! her big arms wrapped around you and holding you close, kisses being peppered atop your head whenever she enters a cutscene in whatever game she's playing because you begged her to let you watch her play. it took a little convincing because abby just wants you to sleep and get the rest you need, but the second you flashed her those sad puppy dog eyes she was handing you the controller to let you pick out a game for her to play.

this girl always has tissues on her, stuffing her pockets full of them so she's ready for whenever you need them

i can just picture you making those funny noises people do before sneezing and abby practically TELEPORTING to you and shoving a scrunched up tissue in your face. she would be so proud of herself too and just look at you like "did i help? :D" yes you did sweetie you did such a good job!!!

you can’t convince that this girl doesn’t make the best grilled cheese and homemade tomato soup known to mankind, it’s always her go to when you’re sick (not that you’re complaining because it’s INCREDIBLE)

not being able to sleep because you can’t breathe and you’re just in so much pain, so abby lays awake with you until you eventually fall asleep :( unless she knows you’re okay and asleep she physically cannot fall asleep, her mind won’t let her.

abby for sure keeps a bucket on her side of the bed for in the middle of the night (she doesn’t want you trying to reach for it and accidentally falling and hurting yourself)

abby is jolted awake almost immediately once you yourself wake up with a startle, shooting up into a sitting position as your hands fly to your mouth. she’s springing into action without even realising it, reaching down as quickly as possible to snatch the bucket and place it into your lap. “in the bucket baby, good girl there you go” she mumbles in that raspy sleep voice, one of her hands keeping a hold of the bucket in case you can’t while her free hand moves up to hold back your hair.

abby running you a bath with all of your favourite essentials lined up ready for you (need that). oh and she is 1000000% washing your hair and body for you, she can’t have her baby tiring herself out now can she?

even when you start to feel better she’s still just as attentive, you assure her that she can stop and just take a break but abby just continues whatever she was doing like she literally can’t hear you LMAO

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

a/n: i’m genuinely so sorry this is so bad 😭 im still sick and barely had the energy to write this but i just wanted to post something SO bad. hope you’re all having a good day/night !! <3

[azzifuddfanpage]

Shower Thoughts

okay I did another!! I actually really enjoy this so give me suggestions for more or things I can improve on!! 4.4k

themes: friends to lovers kinda they already lovers / angst

tw: smut they get a lil freaky like face sitting 😺sry got carried away ig

Convincing Azzi to come to UConn came with a price. If she came to UConn, they would not be able to date. 

It was obvious both girls had feelings deeper than just those of best friends to anyone who knew them. But being teammates and all would mean that they couldn’t date in case they broke up and jeopardize the team's chemistry. 

Paige and Azzi were not worried about breaking up in the slightest. They were 3 years strong at this point and even after having a more open relationship that allowed them to see other people they always came back to each other causing them to tie it off. But now, they are back where they started. 

At first having Azzi at the same school as her was worth it even if they couldn’t date. But she didn’t realize just how hard it would be to hide it until the time came. 

Geno had set a rule that most of the other college coaches agreed with. Teammates couldn’t date. It was a pretty common sense rule, unless if you were fucking gay and paige bueckers and Azzi fudd. 

Of course this would affect them. 

They decided it wouldn’t be that hard to hide it would be fine, no one would realize it. But they realized they would have to go a lot longer without touching each other and being together than they thought, so they vowed to not make it official until at least Paige's senior year so Geno couldn’t complain about them causing problems, even though they knew nothing would happen.

This would be a lot harder than they anticipated. 

—-

They didn’t room together, so it was already bad enough not getting to see each other at nights. 

Paige found herself lying awake at night Azzi’s profile the closest she could get to her

—-

Me: I’m gonna murder Geno for this istg😩

I miss u 

Az: you saw me literally 30 minutes ago not even p 😂

Me: I don’t care it’s not enough I miss touching u and sleeping next to u and smelling ur hair. 

Az: maybe next tournament we will get roomed together 🤷‍♀️ 

I miss u too tho

Wanna get food in the morning? 

Me: can’t 

 I have to meet with the trainer earlier  

Az: damn really putting in the extra reps huh 

Me: yuh tryna be like u what can I say 😁

Az: fuck 

I really do miss u 

Me: we will get through it together

It will be worth the wait trust

…

I’ll do u right Az dw 

—-

In addition to the pause on the relationship, they decided to pause having sex until they had a break to go back home. They weren’t freaks or anything- kinda- but going months without it was harder than they thought. 

So far they were holding strong. 

—-

The next morning Azzi was slow to get up.

The sun was blasting in through the windows. When she slept with Paige, there was always a blanket covering the gaps so no sun could sneak through the creases. 

But Azzi was not with Paige.

She hadn’t been for a while, or at least since the summer break. It was now November just 4 games into their season and they would have to wait all the way until Christmas break to sneak a sleepover without raising questions from their nosy teammates. 

You weren’t allowed to sleep in another dorm, it was just a college rule. No one checked up on it, but Azzi and Paige were still under class man so they didn’t have their own dorms yet, meaning not only did they stay in the suite with the rest of their teammates, but also shared a bedroom- Azzi with Caroline and Paige with Ice- meaning they had no way of getting a secret sleepover-their was simply no room. 

Azzi was annoyed when she woke up this morning. The sun was too bright, and Paige was busy. 

She glanced over at Caroline who was still asleep, looking at her phone. It was only 8 o’clock. They had practice at 1 and the weight room after. Azzi only had one class this morning at 11. 

3 hours. She had hoped she would get to spend with Paige, but for some reason Paige had decided to go meet with a special trainer to help her go over some new skills at like 5 in the morning.

Azzi rolled out of bed quietly walking to the bathroom to get herself ready. 

About an hour later she was about to get coffee herself when she got a text from Paige. 

—-

P: hey Az can u pick me up? 

Me: I thought you drove? 

How did u get there?

P: I’m not at the trainers anymore, I’m at the hospital. 

—-

Azzi froze, she felt her stomach drop all the way down to the floor. 

She felt sick. Her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

—-

P: I can’t drive cuz I broke my foot landing wrong on a layup 

Me: PAIGE WHAT???

ARE YOU SERIOUS ROGHT NOW?? 

GENO IS GOING TO KILL YOU

ARE YOU OKAY??

R U ON CRUTCHES????

CAN U WALK HOW BAD IS IT??

P: Azzi it’s okay I just need you to pick me up I have already talked to Geno don’t worry about me. 

Me: I’m on my way don’t move

P: yup don’t have to worry about that 😀 👍 

—- 

Azzi’s heart was in her stomach, they had only played 4 games together so far. Azzi came not just for Paige but to play with her. Their chemistry on the court was undeniable and was a big reason why they were doing so well. Without Paige there was no telling of how successful they would be as a team. 

As Azzi drove she couldn’t help the nagging guilt in her. She should have gone with her to practice this morning. She should have stopped her from overworking herself. 

She has been working so hard to make sure she is in the best shape, but it’s also because she can’t be with Azzi, working out is the only thing that gets her mind off of it. So Azzi couldn’t help but feel partially responsible. 

The guilt was also accompanied by pity. She knew how much Paige loved basketball, it was her whole life, and this was her first serious injury. 

When Azzi had torn her ACL in 2018, Paige had been the first one to protect her and take care of her, now it was Azzi’s turn. 

—-

Although Paige was upset and frustrated with herself she knew it wasn’t the worst case scenario. After watching Azzi go through the entire ACL tear and watching her resilience as she returned to the court, she had full belief that this would not be the end for her. 

The second she fell she thought of Azzi. Paige knew that Azzi would feel guilty for not being there. Paige knew that she pushed herself too hard. Paige felt this level of guilt when Azzi got hurt. Azzi shares a part of her heart and she knew that if Paige got hurt she would feel it too. 

When the doctor told her it was a minor fracture in her medial talus she was freaked out for sure, but remembering the look on Azzi’s face when the orthopedist told her she would be out for a year max and need surgery, she felt surprisingly grateful. 

She wasn’t expecting this reaction from herself. But knowing she would be back in as early as 2 months made her feel lucky more than anything. 

All she was worried about was Azzi. Sure it would be a setback. But she remembered what Azzi had told her after her knee surgery. 

“A setback is only a failure if you let it stop you from working hard.” 

And as Paige watched Azzi work tirelessly for those 12 months, she knew what the word resilience meant for the first time.

—- 

Azzi slammed the door of her car, racing into the building to find Paige.

When she saw her big blue eyes rimmed red and puffy from crying her own began to water. She quickly hurried over to her wrapping her arms around her. Looking down at her foot in its cast. 

“Oh my god Paige what did you do?” She says laughing out of shock with an obvious pain that showed Paige exactly how she felt. 

“I’m okay Azzi honestly, it’s just a minor fracture I’m only going to be out for a couple months.” Paige said squeezing her shoulder

Azzi reached out, touching the hard cast. 

“But you have been working so hard. We only just started.” Azzi said against her shoulder. 

“Exactly . We have so much time together it’s okay. It’s just a minor setback, but after watching you recover and work so hard- maybe I needed this- maybe I needed this setback to put in perspective how much this really means to me.” Paige paused, pulling Azzi away from her grasp to look her in the eye. 

“ I believe everything happens for a reason. Maybe it isn’t clear now, but I’m sure it will be soon. Who knows maybe I’ll have the comeback of the year or something.” Paige said with a laugh. 

Azzi felt a little better hearing her laugh and seeing a smile on her beautiful face. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? Does it hurt.” Azzi said worriedly, helping her to her feet and grabbing her some crutches. 

“Nah I’m okay don’t worry it only hurts a little.” Paige said wincing as she steadied herself, her face saying another story. 

Azzi gave her a knowing look and made her sit down.

Grabbing her crutches and helping her hobble over to her car. 

“I’m gonna pick up your car later okay?” Azzi said looking at Paige all comfy in her front seat, she always kept a blanket there, claiming it was in case she got cold, but paige was the only one who ever used it. 

“No, don’t leave. I want you to stay with me. Just today.” Paige pleaded, widening her eyes and fluttering her eyelashes. 

Azzi sighed. There was no arguing with her. 

As they pulled into their suite, the rest of the team was already there worried for her, including both Geno and CD and one of the athletic trainers. 

They spent about 45 minutes going over Paige's injury and talking about resilience and comeback and what not. 

Azzi ended up finding her unicorn arm cushions from when she tore her ACL and set Paige up with a nice comfy system. 

“Alright now for Paige’s sake I need someone to take good care of her while she is hurt.”  Geno started, looking around the room.

—

There were 4 suites for the team, 2 rooms in each one. The three were upstairs except for the one Azzi, Caroline, Amari, and Aubrey shared. 

—

“Ok Paige since you obviously won’t be going up the stairs for a little while, why don’t you stay down here and swap rooms with Caroline for the time being.” Geno continued. 

Paige and Azzi looked at each other. This would be the first time they slept in the same room since August. 

Paige couldn’t hide the smile that started curling on her lips, noticing Azzi having the same reaction. 

As everyone started to roll out of the room, one of the trainers paused. 

“Paige by the way, whatever you do u cannot get that cast wet. And you are going to have to get a bucket or something so you can sit in the shower. I’d recommend you get a teammate to help you clean yourself. You’re both girls, it's fine.” She said as she walked out the door. 

“Uhm so who’s going to literally shower paige.”  Aubrey said laughing. 

“I mean I guess it might make most sense for Azzi too since we are rooming…” Paige trailed off trying to hide her excitement of finally feeling Azzi’s soft fingers on her skin after all this time. 

“Wow, seems like someone knows exactly what she wants, I guess it’s settled, good luck Azzi…. And you should probably get on that cuz paige u smell like ass- must’ve been a good workout.” Amari chimed in laughing as Paige’s face turned bright red. 

Paige glanced at Azzi and watched as her lips twisted into a smirk 

“I have class in an hour but I guess if we make it quick.” Azzi said, looking  Paige up and down. 

Aubrey and Amari were completely clueless to the shift in the air. Paige on the other hand felt a warm sensation in her stomach as her panties dampened under Azzi’s intense stare. 

15 minutes later they were alone in the bathroom. The suite was empty except for them.

No one really suspected anything, if anything they felt bad for Paige having to be exposed like this. Paige on the other hand was both eager and nervous to be alone-naked with Azzi again.

Azzi locked the bathroom door.

“I feel like you got injured on purpose just so I would have to touch your naked body.” Azzi scoffed, creeping up to her. 

Paige had crutches into the bathroom and sat on the closed toilet as Azzi moved her crutches and set up a plastic crate in the shower for Paige to sit on. 

Paige's breath hitched as Azzi walked towards her placing her fingers on her shoulders running them up and down her arms. 

Paige looked up at her with needy eyes. 

“Missed you so bad.” She said taking in Azzi in front of her. 

“I can tell.” Azzi laughed watching the way her body flinched under her touch. 

Azzi leaned in and started to unzip her hoodie.

“I have missed you too.” Azzi whispered into her ear, pressing her lips against it as she slid her hoodie off her shoulders. 

Paige whined craving more, helping pull her arms out of the holes. 

“So much for not fucking while we are on campus.” Paige said in between breaths. 

“Who said we were gonna fuck?” Azzi questioned, teasingly laughing as Paige pouted.

“What? I'm just following the trainers orders, nothing wrong with this baby.” Azzi continued as she guided Paige to lift her arms, raising her shirt over her head.

Azzi’s eyes flicked over her abs, watching as Paige's nipples poked through her sports bra under her gaze. Azzi ran her fingers over the sports bra paying special attention to them through the cloth. 

“You didn’t hurt your arms, you know.” Azzi noted, as Paige raised her arms again, wanting Azzi to take off her other layer as she felt the heat throbbing in her pants. 

“Azzi come on. I’m crippled.” Paige whines. 

Azzi rolls her eyes dramatically, wrapping her fingers around the band of her sports bra and making a show as she takes it off of her, revealing Paige's breasts and pink nipples all hard for her. 

Azzi’s breath hitched as she saw her beautiful girl in front of her naked and on display for the first time in months. 

She wanted nothing more than to latch her mouth and rub her hands all over her nipples, but seeing Paige cocky smirk at her reaction made her want to make Paige beg for it. 

Azzi couldn’t deny how hot this side of Paige was, this desperately submissive side she had been hiding, she wasn’t about to give in just yet, she wanted to make it last. 

Paige huffed as Azzi moved down to her pants, ignoring her pink nipples longing to be sucked, and going straight to work.

Azzi looked up at Paige's desperation-filled eyes and wrapped her fingers around her pants. Paige lifted her ass clawing at Azzi’s back for support as Azzi slid them down her legs slowly paying extra careful attention to her hurt foot. 

Paige closed her legs embarrassed about how wet she was. 

She had thrown on grey Cotton panties so there was no doubt Azzi would see just how much Azzi was affecting her. 

Azzi looked at her with a smirk as she pulled her legs apart, her smirk growing as she saw the pool of wetness that had accumulated in her panties.

“Aw Paigey you’re soaked.” Azzi said teasingly as Paige's face grew red turning away from her, refusing to make eye contact with her. 

“I want you to look at me when I touch you.” Azzi said dominantly running her fingers along the waistband of her panties outlining the seam all the way down to the bottom of her ass. 

Paige shuttered, returning her glance to Azzi melting under her dominant brown eyes that would make her instantly release. 

Azzi ran her hands over Paige's face, pulling some of her blonde hair out of the way and back into the messy bun she had in.

“Let’s get these off and get you cleaned up… you’re such a mess.” Azzi said seductively wrapping her hands around the inner part of her panties brushing her fingers against Paige's folds. Paige let out a moan at the much needed contact. 

After her panties were removed and she was fully naked, Azzi helped her over to the shower, sitting her on the crate making sure her foot was still out of the way of the water.

Waiting no more time, Azzi grabbed a bottle of her soap- coconut and vanilla- the one that Paige would never stop smelling whenever she had it on, and began to massage it into her skin starting by standing behind her and rubbing it into her shoulders and back.

After a few minutes. Paige was confused why it was taking her so long, the need between her legs over powering her. 

“What are you doing?” Paige asked with a laugh as Azzi’s touch lingered against her back running up in back in a specific pattern 

“Writing my name.” Azzi responded simply, before leaning forward and clarifying, “I want you to know you’re mine.”

Paige let out a breathy moan at that, and shivered as Azzi, who was still standing outside of the shower, wrapped her arms from the back to the front of Paige's body blindly kneading her tits, rolling her nipples around in her fingers. 

“Just making sure I don’t miss a spot. Wanna make sure my pretty girl is done right.” Azzi said as Paige's breathing sped up. 

Azzi twists the bucket slightly so Paige is now facing her. She begins to spread the soap down, rubbing it into her lower stomach and passing the place Paige was craving to be touched.

Azzi rubbed her exposed foot and worked her way up massaging her calf and thigh slowly getting higher and higher on her thigh until she reached  her pussy. 

Mixing in some of the water Azzi began to move her hand closer to Paige's pussy, lightly brushing past her clit as she let the water wash off the soap. 

Paige moaned as the water pounded down on her clit, Azzi methodically worked the head of the shower so that it was lingering on her pussy, the warm water hitting her clit just where she needed it. 

Paige moaned at the contact and Azzi could no longer hold back any longer. She placed down the shower head back on the stand and she ran her fingers over paige’s pussy. 

“Need me bad huh.” Azzi whispered, staring at her pussy… 

Paige nodded desperately, thrusting her hips up balancing on her good leg, needing Azzi to apply contact. 

“Relax baby. Let me do the work.” Azzi said as Paige whined. 

She shoved Paige's hips back onto the bucket and began to run her fingers through her folds, rubbing small tight circles on her swollen clit. 

“You don’t know how much I have missed your beautiful pussy.” Azzi said, looking up at Paige as she thrusted 3 fingers inside her immediately, not giving her even a second to adjust to the stretch inside her. 

Paige yelped at the sudden feeling of Azzi inside of her that she had been craving for months. 

“oh god don’t stop baby.” Paige moaned, pulling Azzi closer to her, forcing her fingers deeper in until they hit her g spot. 

Azzi continued pounding into her curling her fingers upwards exploring Paige's cervix with her fingers while continuing to pound into her. 

Paige leaned up against the wall of the shower pulling Azzi towards her flexing her thighs as she began to feel her stomach tighten. 

“So close oh my god Azzi. Please.” 

Azzi, feeling her walls tighten, continued pounding into her, pressing on her lower stomach causing Paige to unravel underneath her. 

“Azzi oh god I’m coming.” Paige shouted as she moaned her wetness gushing out of her as Azzi rode out her high. 

Once Paige was just a pile of moans Azzi pulled her fingers out of her and popped them into her own mouth savoring her taste and making a show of herself sucking on them, refusing to make eye contact with paige.

Paige grabbed her by the hair forcing her tongue into her mouth moaning as she tasted herself in her mouth. 

“It’s not fair I’m the only one with no clothes on.” Paige noted, annoyed that she hadn’t gotten to see Azzi’s beautiful body yet. 

“Patience p.” Azzi said with a wink as she got up and grabbed a towel wiping off the rest of the water off of Paige's body.

She helped Paige hobble back to her room and got her situated, making sure her foot was elevated and she had plenty of Advil. 

“I’m gonna go grab you something to eat, I have class in like 45 minutes so I can’t be long.” Azzi said, taking off her shirt to change.

“Wait ow it hurts.” Paige said calmly to not stress out Azzi. 

But Azzi being how she is rushed over to paige. 

“Are you okay, do u need another pillow, more Advil?” Azzi started questioning, but was interrupted when Paige pulled her onto her lap so Azzi was straddling her. 

“It’s not fair that I was the only one who got fucked today.” Paige said smirking as she ran her hand over Azzi’s breasts that were poking through her tank top. 

“No bra? It’s like ur asking for me to fuck you. How am I supposed to focus on resting when I can see your pretty nipples through your shirt.” Paige noted pulling the straps of Azzi’s tank top down.

“Paige you need to rest come on.” Azzi said, but her breath hitched despite her and she let out a soft moan as Paige pulled her shirt up revealing her nice tits. 

Without saying anything Paige began to rub them, pulling Azzi towards her and wrapping her lips around her nipple. She sucked watching as Azzi moaned into her. 

Azzi could feel the wetness that had already formed in her shorts from when she finger fucked paige minutes earlier. 

“I don’t want you to over do it.” Azzi said between moans as Paige's fingers trailed lower on her stomach. 

“How bout u sit on my face.” Paige said with a smirk as Azzi immediately went red. 

“I’m too heavy paige oh my god that’s no I don’t think-“ Azzi started protesting but paige grabbed her ass squeezing it tightly as she pushed Azzi up towards her mouth sitting her so her legs were on either side of her head. 

At this point Azzi was hovering over her in just her pink Nike shorts. Without another word Paige pulled her shorts to the side and pushed Azzi down on her tongue. 

Azzi let out a loud moan in shock at the sudden pressure. Paige's nose brushed her clit as she dipped her tongue in and out of Azzi.

Pulling it out she began to swirl it around her clit flicking it up and down against her. 

Paige grabbed Azzi’s ass, grinding her against her mouth tasting her wetness. 

“Missed this pussy- taste so good” paige said against her pussy. The vibrations of her voice overstimulate Azzi as she feels her climax start to close in.

“Feels so good.” Azzi moans “gonna come oh god.” Azzi feels herself try to pull away but paige’s strong hand keeps her tight on her face continuing to fuck her with her tongue.

“Look at me baby. You can come for me.” Paige says without stopping. 

Azzi meets her eyes and instantly crumbles under the dominance of the blue eyes. She started coming her white syrup pouring into Paige's mouth as Paige used her tongue to shovel every drop of it into her mouth. Savoring the taste of her. 

“You taste amazing. I have missed this.” Paige said happily looking at Azzi who was folded over on top of her. 

Azzi moved to the side to look into her beautiful blue eyes. Laughing as she sees some of her come on her nose. She kisses it off smiling.

“To be honest I don’t think I can not do this for another month.” Azzi said, running her hand lovingly over Paige's face. Ya I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem anymore, Paige said looking at her phone seeing a text from Aubrey.

—-

Aub: Can u guys shut the fuck up. Like my ears are bleeding 😀

It cannot be that good Azzi

whole new meaning to that 69 joke you made. 

U held out well I’ll give u that, guess I owe ice 50 bucks. 

—-

Paige laughed, turning back to Azzi, who looked a little nervous. 

“What if Geno finds out and gets bad at us.” Azzi starts. “I don’t want him worried that we are going to mess up the team if we break up.” 

Azzi said worriedly as she snuggled closer to paige. 

“Baby don’t worry, that’s not gonna happen, we won’t break up, can’t even go a month without you so trust when I say I could never live without you.” Paige said, reassuring her, and touching her now messy, curly hair. 

“You have girlfriend hair.” She laughed trying to pat it down for her. 

“Ughh paigeee.” Azzi whines, flattening it with her hands and shoving Paige back before snuggling up into her chest. 

“I love you P.” She says muffled by her chest.

“Love you too Az.” Paige replies wrapping her fingers in her hair pulling her closer to her heart where she will keep her forever. 

[aspenmissing]

Can we get some period comfort/care from the Arcane characters? Maybe their s/o is the kinda person that just keeps on keeping on even if they HURT… time for a lil’ hurt/comfort intervention from the gang. Thank you! 😊

ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ᴘᴀɪɴꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ || 5947 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴇʀɪᴏᴅ ᴘᴀɪɴꜱ, ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴄʀᴀᴍᴘꜱ

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴʟʏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜ! ꜱᴏ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ!! <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴄʟᴀɢɢᴏʀ

JAYCE

You woke up with a deep, dull ache twisting in your lower abdomen, the familiar sensation of your body betraying you once again. You sighed, already knowing what kind of day this was going to be. The pain radiated through your back, sharp and unrelenting, but you weren’t about to let it stop you.

So, you did what you always did—you ignored it.

You forced yourself out of bed, quietly slipping away from Jayce’s warmth. He was still fast asleep, his arm loosely draped over your waist, his chest rising and falling steadily. For a moment, you considered staying, just for a little longer, but you shook off the thought. If you let yourself give in now, you wouldn’t get anything done.

Moving was hell. Every step sent sharp pulses of pain up your spine, and the nausea that accompanied it made you grit your teeth. You barely managed to get dressed before heading to the kitchen, determined to make some tea before leaving for the Academy.

You had just put the kettle on when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, pulling you back against a warm, bare chest.

“You’re up early,” Jayce murmured, his voice thick with sleep. He pressed a slow kiss to the side of your head, his lips lingering. “Didn’t even wake me up. That’s cruel.”

You rolled your eyes, leaning into him slightly. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate being woken up before sunrise.”

Jayce hummed, his grip tightening as he buried his face in your neck. “I always appreciate you.”

Despite the warmth of his embrace, you tensed when another cramp rolled through your body. You bit your lip to keep from making a sound, but Jayce didn’t miss the way you stiffened.

His brows furrowed, and he pulled back enough to look at you. “Y/N?” His hands found your hips, steadying you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lied. “Just a little sore.”

Jayce didn’t buy it. His eyes searched yours, taking in the exhaustion lining your face, the way you were holding yourself, the way you had barely touched your tea. Then, understanding dawned on him.

“Is it—?”

You exhaled sharply. “It’s fine, Jayce.”

He scoffed. “That’s not what your body is saying.” Before you could argue, he turned you around to face him fully. “How bad?”

“Not bad enough to skip work,” you said automatically.

Jayce shot you a look. “That’s not an answer.”

You sighed. “It’s... uncomfortable. But I can handle it.”

Jayce stared at you for a long moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. Then, without warning, he bent down and swept you off your feet, cradling you against his chest.

“Jayce!” you gasped, arms flying around his neck. “Put me down!”

“Nope.” He carried you with ease, moving straight back toward the bedroom. “You are not going to the Academy today.”

You huffed. “I have work to do—”

“It can wait.” Jayce nudged the door open with his foot, walking over to the bed before gently setting you down. He pulled the covers over you, tucking you in before sitting on the edge of the bed. “You always do this. You push through it, act like it’s nothing, and then you crash. Not today.”

You crossed your arms. “I’m fine.”

Jayce raised an eyebrow. “Would a heating pad and some tea make you more fine?”

You hesitated.

He smirked, already standing up. “That’s what I thought.”

You watched as he left the room, hearing him rummage through the cabinets and drawers. A few minutes later, he returned with a heating pad and a fresh cup of tea. He placed the heating pad gently against your abdomen before handing you the tea, then slid into bed beside you.

You raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to the Academy?”

He shrugged, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you against his chest. “I think my girlfriend needs me more than work does.”

You exhaled slowly, relaxing against him despite yourself. His body was warm, his presence grounding. You hadn’t realized just how much you needed this until now.

Jayce pressed a kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing soothing circles on your back. “Just rest, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”

VIKTOR

The familiar ache curled deep in Y/N’s abdomen, sharp and relentless. It radiated through her lower back and thighs, an unyielding force she had long since learned to endure. She clenched her jaw as she adjusted the lens on her microscope, determined to ignore it. Work at the Academy didn’t stop just because her body decided to wage war against her.

She exhaled slowly, trying to focus on the samples before her, but the pain flared again, making her fingers tighten around the microscope’s knobs. Her stomach churned, and a thin layer of sweat clung to the back of her neck. But she refused to stop. She couldn’t stop.

"Miláčku." (Darling)

Viktor’s voice broke through her concentration, the familiar, gentle lilt carrying an unmistakable thread of concern.

She glanced up briefly, offering him a tight-lipped smile that she hoped would be reassuring, but she knew he wasn’t fooled. He was never fooled.

Viktor sighed, his golden eyes flicking over her with quiet scrutiny. He had been watching her all morning—how she tensed when she thought no one was looking, how her hands trembled ever so slightly when she reached for her pen, how she bit the inside of her cheek as another wave of pain hit. She was stubborn, as always. Too stubborn.

Slowly, he stood, his cane tapping softly against the floor as he crossed the lab toward her. She heard the familiar rhythm—step, tap, step, tap—until he was close enough to rest a hand on the edge of her workstation. He leaned against it with an easy familiarity, but his gaze was sharp, searching.

"You are in pain," he stated simply.

"I'm fine," Y/N dismissed, though the slight waver in her voice betrayed her.

Viktor hummed, unconvinced. "I have seen you work through headaches, exhaustion, and even a minor injury, but this?" He gestured vaguely toward her. "This is different. You are clearly miserable."

She exhaled sharply through her nose, gripping the edge of the table as another cramp twisted through her, worse than the last. It felt like her body was wringing itself out from the inside, and for a moment, the world blurred at the edges.

Viktor frowned. His grip tightened on his cane, frustration flickering across his face—not at her, but at the fact that she was pushing herself through something she shouldn’t have to endure alone.

"Come," he said softly, reaching for her free hand. His fingers curled around hers, warm and steady. "You need to rest."

"I need to finish this first—"

"No, you do not," Viktor cut her off, voice gentle but firm. "The research will be here tomorrow. You, however, will feel worse if you continue like this."

She hesitated. She hated stopping. Hated feeling weak. Hated the idea of something as trivial as her own body dictating what she could and couldn’t do. But when Viktor squeezed her hand and gave her that look—the one filled with unwavering devotion, the one that made her feel seen and cared for—she finally caved.

"Fine," she mumbled, allowing him to help her up.

"Good," Viktor murmured, a small, satisfied smile playing at his lips.

He guided her toward the worn leather couch in the corner of the lab, moving carefully to accommodate his own limp. He walked with measured steps, his cane tapping softly against the stone floor, never letting go of her hand.

When she sat down, Viktor disappeared for a moment before returning with a warm cup of tea, the steam curling in the cool air. He pressed it into her hands, his fingers lingering just a little longer than necessary, as if to reassure himself that she was here, that she was okay.

Y/N sighed, letting the warmth seep into her fingers. The scent of chamomile and honey wafted up, soothing in a way she hadn’t realized she needed.

Viktor settled beside her, careful and deliberate in his movements, resting his cane against the armrest before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She didn’t resist when he pulled her against his side, the slow rise and fall of his breath steadying her own.

"You are too stubborn for your own good," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.

She huffed, but there was no real fight left in her. Instead, she let herself melt into him, feeling the steady warmth of his body against hers.

"You love me anyway," she muttered, her voice muffled against the fabric of his vest.

"That, I do," Viktor chuckled, his fingers tracing soothing circles on her arm. "But I would love you even more if you took care of yourself."

She let out a small hum, closing her eyes. Maybe just for a moment. Maybe just until the pain dulled.

JAYVIK

It was one of those days where everything felt harder than usual. Y/N had been pushing through the pain for hours, the familiar dull ache turning into sharp, persistent cramps that made her want to curl up and hide from the world. But that wasn’t her style. She gritted her teeth, trying to focus on the task at hand, but her mind kept wandering back to the discomfort. She knew she wasn’t fooling anyone, though.

Viktor and Jayce had been noticing for a while now. Viktor, ever the observant one, had been keeping a quiet eye on her, watching her fight through each wave of pain. Jayce, with his usual energy and protective nature, had started to notice her movements becoming more sluggish, her posture stiffening, her face pinched with discomfort. Neither of them said anything at first, but as time passed, they both knew something needed to be done.

The tipping point came when Y/N tried to stand after a long meeting at the Academy. She had been sitting through lectures, her mind clouded with the increasing discomfort in her abdomen. She had hoped the pain would subside, but it only seemed to grow worse. The moment she stood, the sharp cramp hit her hard, and for a moment, her vision blurred. She swayed slightly on her feet, barely managing to steady herself before Viktor’s steady hand was at her elbow, guiding her back down into her seat.

“Y/N,” Viktor said gently, his voice laced with concern. “You need to rest.”

“I’m fine,” Y/N tried to dismiss, but the words came out a little weaker than she intended. She wasn’t fine, not by a long shot. Her head spun, her body trembling from the intense pain.

“No, you’re not,” Jayce said, his tone firm but caring. He stepped closer, his gaze softening as he observed her. His big hands hovered over her stomach, a silent understanding passing between them. “You’ve been pushing yourself too hard again.”

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to insist that she could push through just like she always did, but before she could speak, Jayce was already kneeling beside her. His warm hands gently pressed against her lower abdomen, rubbing slow, soothing circles over the cramping muscles. The warmth of his touch instantly calmed her, if only just for a moment. She felt herself soften into him, the deep ache lessening with each movement of his hands.

“You don’t have to keep going like this,” Jayce murmured, his voice low and full of affection. “Let us help.”

Viktor, never one to be left out of such tender moments, moved to the other side of her. His cane tapped the floor gently as he settled beside her. With a soft sigh, he rested a hand on her shoulder, his fingers light yet firm against her skin. “You’re important to us, lásko,” he said, his voice quiet but steady, filled with the kind of care that only Viktor could express so effortlessly. “And we want you to take care of yourself—not just for us, but for you as well.” (Love)

Y/N felt the tension in her chest loosen at his words. She wanted to fight it, to push through the pain and pretend like she could handle it alone, but as their voices wrapped around her like a gentle cocoon, she allowed herself to relax. For the first time in a long time, she let herself stop. The weight of the day, the pain, the constant push to do more and be more—it all seemed so much lighter with them there. She closed her eyes, letting the exhaustion wash over her, finally allowing herself to just… be.

Jayce’s hands never stopped their gentle motion on her stomach, each caress sending a wave of relief through her body. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had taken such tender care of her like this. Viktor leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her temple, his lips warm and comforting against her skin. Their closeness, their presence, wrapped around her like a blanket, making her feel safe in a way she hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever.

“You don’t have to do everything alone,” Viktor murmured, his voice soft and reassuring. His fingers moved through her hair, gently tucking a strand behind her ear. “Let us help you. Let us take care of you”

Y/N smiled weakly, resting her head against Viktor’s chest. The familiar sound of his heartbeat was a soothing lullaby against her ear. She felt the tension in her body slip away as she leaned into them both. “I’m lucky to have you both,” she whispered, her voice thick with gratitude. She had never felt so cared for, so truly seen.

Jayce kissed the top of her head, his hands still working their soothing magic on her stomach. His voice was warm and filled with affection when he spoke again. “We’re lucky to have you, too.” His words wrapped around her like a promise, a vow of unwavering support.

And there, in the quiet comfort of their embrace, Y/N felt the world outside fade into nothingness. The pain was still there, but it no longer felt like an insurmountable force. With Viktor and Jayce by her side, she knew she didn’t have to face anything alone.

VANDER

It was another cold, gloomy morning in Zaun, the kind that seemed to press down on everything. The dim, gray light filtered through the cracks of the old wooden walls, barely enough to see by. The sounds of the city’s lifeblood—clanking metal, creaking pipes, and distant machinery—echoed throughout their small, humble home. Y/N lay curled in bed, her body tangled in blankets, but she barely felt their warmth. The sharp, familiar ache in her abdomen throbbed with a fierce intensity, a relentless reminder of her body’s monthly battle. It pulsed through her like an undercurrent, making it hard to breathe without feeling it shift and twist inside her.

She had been awake for hours, trapped in the haze of pain, but she stubbornly refused to admit how bad it had become. There were things to do today—people to help, problems to solve, and a million things that still demanded her attention. She wasn’t going to let a little pain hold her back. She never did.

With a soft groan, she attempted to sit up. But the moment she moved, the dizziness hit her. Her vision blurred, the edges of everything softening as the pain intensified. She winced, clutching her stomach as if that would somehow make it stop. Her body felt heavy, like it was made of stone, and the simple act of sitting upright felt like a monumental task.

“I can’t…” she whispered to herself, but before she could even get her bearings, she tried to stand. Her legs, weak from exhaustion and the painful cramps, buckled beneath her, sending her crashing back down onto the mattress.

The sound of heavy footsteps in the hallway interrupted her self-inflicted struggle. The door creaked open, and there stood Vander, his tall frame filling the doorway. His face, roughened by years of struggle, softened as his eyes quickly scanned the room and landed on her.

"Y/N?" His voice, gravelly and low, was filled with concern. “What are you doing?”

Her stubborn streak kicked in, and she quickly wiped away the pained expression on her face, trying to act as if everything were normal. “I’m fine,” she muttered, forcing herself to sit up once more, even though her body screamed in protest. “I’ve got things to do.”

Vander’s gaze never left her, and he crossed the room in two long strides. He was close enough now that she could feel the warmth radiating off of him, a welcome contrast to the chill of the room. He didn’t even ask; his massive hand gently settled on her shoulder, grounding her in place.

“You don’t look fine,” he said, his voice low but firm. His eyes searched hers, refusing to let her hide from him.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue, to insist she was okay, but before she could, Vander was already scooping her into his arms, his strong hands lifting her effortlessly. Her breath caught as he cradled her against his chest, and for a moment, all she could do was close her eyes and allow herself to be held.

“You’re not going anywhere like this,” he murmured, his voice a soothing rumble beneath her ear. She couldn’t fight him—not when the weight of her stubbornness started to lift with the warmth of his embrace.

She huffed, irritated at how easily he could overpower her when she was in this state, but the pain in her body made it impossible to argue. With a soft sigh, she let herself relax against him, her body trembling—not from fear, but from the overwhelming relief of simply being held.

Vander’s giant hand moved, resting gently on her stomach. He began rubbing slow, deliberate circles, the warmth of his touch seeping through her clothes and into her very skin. She let out a breath, the pain dulling slightly under his careful touch. His presence, his strength, was a balm to her aching body, and the rhythmic motion of his hand calmed her in a way nothing else could.

“Vander…” she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. She didn’t want to admit how badly she needed this, how much the pain had worn her down. “I’m not…”

“Shh,” he interrupted softly, his hand continuing its motion. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. I know you’re strong, but sometimes… sometimes, you need to let someone take care of you.”

Her heart squeezed at his words. He wasn’t just concerned about the pain—he was worried about her. The ache in her stomach wasn’t going away, but the warmth of his embrace, the steadiness of his touch, began to soothe the sharpest edges of it. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting herself lean into him, allowing herself to be taken care of in a way she hadn’t allowed anyone to do for a long time.

“I’m used to doing everything myself,” she whispered, the quiet vulnerability in her voice a rare thing. She had always been the one to keep going, no matter what. But this… this was different. “I don’t want to be a burden.”

Vander’s response was soft, but it carried the weight of years of love and understanding. “You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. I want to take care of you. Let me do this for once.”

She could feel the sincerity in his words, and something in her heart softened. There was no room for pride, no room for stubbornness in this moment. Just the two of them, wrapped in the quiet of their little home, as the world of Zaun continued to hum and groan outside.

His hand continued its soothing motion, and for the first time that morning, Y/N felt herself relax. The tightness in her chest loosened, and the pain in her stomach, while still present, seemed more manageable under his careful care. She breathed in deeply, and the ache in her body became a distant hum instead of an overwhelming force.

“You’re not alone, Y/N,” Vander said softly, his lips brushing against her forehead as he held her closer. “I’ve got you. Always.”

The tenderness in his voice, the security of his embrace, allowed her to finally surrender to the exhaustion. She let herself drift, her body finally giving in to the comfort he provided, the pain fading into something bearable.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to close her eyes, trusting Vander completely. She wasn’t alone. And for now, that was enough.

SILCO

The dimly lit office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of papers as Y/N sorted through the endless stacks on Silco's desk. The hum of the dim lights above was the only other sound, though it hardly did anything to distract from the gnawing pain in her abdomen. She had been at this for hours, working on paperwork for Silco, as usual. Every once in a while, she would shift in her seat, trying to ease the pain that only seemed to worsen as time went on. But she couldn’t stop—not when there was still work to do. Not when Silco depended on her.

The throbbing in her lower belly was becoming unbearable, the cramps tightening like a vice, and she couldn’t even remember the last time she had felt truly comfortable. But she had learned long ago to push through, to endure. She had always been this way—stubborn, determined. She wasn’t going to let something like pain get in the way of her responsibilities.

Her hand trembled slightly as she reached for the next set of documents, but she quickly steadied it, forcing herself to focus. She tried not to make a noise, to keep her breathing even, but the pain was starting to show on her face. She caught a glimpse of Silco out of the corner of her eye, watching her intently from his seat. His eyes were sharp, calculating, but for a brief moment, they softened, the tiniest flicker of concern passing through his gaze. He didn’t say anything yet, but she could feel his eyes on her as she continued to sort through the papers.

It wasn’t long before Silco stood, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the room. His presence was commanding, unwavering, and he moved toward her with purpose. Y/N could feel his gaze on her, and she quickly straightened up, trying to hide her discomfort. But it was no use.

"Y/N," he said, his voice calm, but there was an edge to it, something that made her heart skip a beat. It was more than just a question—it was an order.

She looked up at him, a weak smile on her lips, though it barely reached her eyes. "I’m fine, just a little…" Her voice trailed off, but Silco didn’t need any more explanation.

"No," he said, his tone brokering no argument. "You’re not fine." He was already crossing the room toward her, his eyes locked on hers with a gaze that left no room for defiance. "Give me your hand."

Before she could protest, his fingers were wrapped around her wrist, strong and steady, pulling her from the chair with little effort. His grip was firm, unyielding, and Y/N found herself rising to her feet, her body moving almost involuntarily. She opened her mouth to argue, but Silco silenced her with a look, his expression dark and unreadable.

"But I still need to finish these," Y/N tried to explain, though she was already feeling light-headed from the pain.

"Enough," he commanded, his voice cold but not unkind. "Rest."

Y/N’s heart skipped in her chest at his tone, but she didn’t have the strength to resist. Silco gently but firmly guided her to the couch in his office, his hand never leaving her wrist. She collapsed onto the plush cushions with a sigh, feeling the weight of the pain in her stomach and the exhaustion she had been ignoring for so long. The relief of lying down was immediate, though the cramping still made it hard to relax.

Silco stood over her for a moment, his gaze unwavering as he assessed the situation. His sharp eyes softened just slightly, but there was still that edge to his expression, something that made it clear he wasn’t going to allow her to suffer.

"Stay here," he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Don’t move."

Y/N managed a weak smile, trying to brush it off. "I’ll be fine. Really."

But Silco was already turning to leave the room, his mind clearly elsewhere as he walked toward the door. Y/N watched him go, a strange pang of guilt gnawing at her. She wasn’t used to being taken care of in such a way, and a part of her resisted it, even though another part of her desperately needed it.

=

A few minutes later, Silco returned. In his hand, he carried a warm cloth, and there was something about the way he moved—almost protective—that made her heart skip a beat. His eyes softened, just slightly, as he knelt beside her. Without a word, he carefully placed the heated cloth over her stomach, the warmth seeping into her skin and easing some of the tension there. Y/N closed her eyes at the sensation, her breath slowing as the pain began to dull, the heat from the cloth soothing her aching muscles.

Silco watched her for a moment, ensuring she was comfortable before speaking again, his voice softer than before but still with an undercurrent of command. "Rest," he repeated, tucking a thick blanket around her shoulders. His movements were gentle, but there was a firmness to them, as though he was making sure she understood that he wasn’t going to let her go through this alone.

Y/N opened her eyes, meeting his gaze, and for a brief moment, she saw something different in him—something she hadn’t noticed before. There was care, yes, but also a certain protectiveness, a tenderness that he rarely showed.

"I’m sorry," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "I didn’t mean to worry you."

Silco’s eyes softened for a fraction of a second, and he exhaled slowly, the sharp edge to his presence softening just enough to show that he was concerned, that he cared. "You don’t need to apologize for this," he said quietly. "Not for this, Y/N." His eyes darkened slightly, a glint of something more protective in them. "I don’t want you pushing yourself when you’re clearly in pain."

Y/N hesitated, letting his words settle in her mind. She wasn’t used to being cared for like this. She had always been the one to take care of others, to push through, to keep going no matter the cost. But here she was, vulnerable, and for once, she let herself lean into the care he was offering.

For the first time that night, she didn’t argue, didn’t insist that she was fine. She just closed her eyes, sinking into the comfort of the warmth surrounding her, the blanket tucking her in like a safe cocoon.

Silco moved toward his desk, but his gaze never left her. He watched her for a moment, ensuring she was still resting, before returning to his work. Yet, even in his focus, his eyes would drift back to her, checking on her every so often, as if he couldn’t quite bear the thought of her being uncomfortable or in pain.

"You’re mine to care for, Y/N," he said after a while, his voice low, almost a whisper, but it carried weight, like a promise. "Don’t forget that."

His words sank deep into her chest, a warmth blooming there as she allowed herself to believe it. She wasn’t used to this—this attention, this care. But somehow, it felt right, felt like something she had been needing without realizing it.

And for once, she let herself believe that she was worthy of it.

The pain didn’t vanish entirely, but the comfort of his presence, his care, made it bearable. And in that moment, she knew that Silco wasn’t just her lover. He was her protector too.

As the minutes passed, Y/N allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful, restful sleep, safe in the knowledge that Silco was watching over her—ensuring she was cared for, no matter what.

CLAGGOR (AU)

It was another long day in their shared workshop, the kind where the hours blurred into one another as they worked tirelessly. Surrounded by mechanical parts, intricate blueprints, and the glowing soft light of the workbench lamps, Claggor and Y/N had been dedicated to their latest project. The hybrid flower—an innovative creation Y/N had been perfecting—was finally starting to show promise. It was meant to have a healing property unlike anything they had seen before, one that could possibly help in the toughest of battles.

Claggor, ever meticulous, was hunched over his work, adjusting the tiny petals they had successfully crossbred to be more resilient. His brow furrowed in concentration as he made careful tweaks to the delicate work of nature and science intertwined. Meanwhile, Y/N sat beside him, her hands moving more slowly than usual, though she tried to keep pace.

The pain had started earlier that morning, sharp cramps that gnawed at her body in waves, but Y/N had pushed it aside, determined to finish their task. She wasn’t the type to admit when she was struggling—not when there was so much left to do, not when they were so close.

Yet Claggor, as always, knew her too well. His eyes darted up from the flower hybrid when he noticed her wince slightly, a quiet flicker of discomfort crossing her face. Then, her hand subtly pressed against her stomach, as though she could will the pain away. It wasn’t the first time he had seen her like this, but this time, there was something in the way she held herself—a tightness, a reluctance to show weakness—that tugged at his heart.

“Y/N,” he said softly, his voice low and concerned. He didn’t lift his gaze from the project, but his tone told her he wasn’t buying her act. “You good?”

Y/N gave him a strained smile, pushing herself a little straighter, her voice pretending lightness. “Yeah, just… focused. A little tired, that’s all.”

Claggor was quiet for a beat, his fingers tapping restlessly against the workbench. He could tell it was more than tiredness. He knew that look too well, the one she wore when she was trying to keep it all together even though the weight of her body was starting to betray her. With a quiet sigh, he set the hybrid down, gently lowering the delicate petals back into their protective case, before standing up and walking toward her.

“I know that look,” he murmured, his tone a mixture of concern and something softer. He reached for her hand, his touch gentle but insistent, guiding her to sit down on a nearby chair. “Y/N… You’re not fooling me. You’re hurting.”

Her hand trembled slightly as she tried to pull back. “Claggor, I’m fine,” she insisted, though the slight hitch in her voice betrayed her. “We’re almost there. Just need a few more adjustments.”

“No,” Claggor said firmly, his voice holding a quiet strength that made it impossible to argue. “You’re not fine.” He stepped closer, his fingers brushing against her cheek in a soft but tender motion. “You’re in pain. I can see it.”

She shook her head, still not wanting to admit it, still trying to push through. “I don’t want to slow you down, Claggor. You’ve been working so hard on this, and we’re so close to finishing.”

Claggor sighed, a mix of frustration and something deeper—care and love for her. He could tell she was putting on a brave face, trying to act like everything was fine, but he had seen this too many times. She was always the one who fought through the pain, always the one who kept going, even when her body screamed for rest.

He wasn’t going to let her push herself too far today.

With a quiet determination, he moved behind her, his hands settling on her shoulders as he gently urged her to sit back down. “Y/N, listen to me. It’s not about the project right now. It’s about you. You’re not going to get anything done if you’re not feeling well.”

She hesitated, her eyes flicking to their half-finished work, but the pain was getting harder to ignore. Her body swayed as she stood, trying to push through, but it was too much. The sharpness of her cramps made her stagger, and Claggor was quick to step forward, his strong arms catching her before she could fall.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low, filled with quiet reassurance. “I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

He carefully led her to the couch, easing her down into the cushions. His eyes were filled with nothing but concern, and it made her heart ache. Claggor always knew when to take charge, when to step in, and when she needed to give herself a break.

“I don’t like resting,” she whispered, her voice barely audible as she tried to fight the fatigue creeping over her. “I feel like I’m letting everything slip away if I stop.”

Claggor knelt beside her, brushing a lock of hair from her forehead. His touch was warm, soothing, and gentle, as though he were handling something precious. “You’re not letting anything slip, love. You’re just taking care of yourself so you can be strong later. You deserve to rest. Please, don’t push yourself any longer.”

She looked up at him, her eyes softening as the vulnerability he always saw in her began to emerge. She nodded reluctantly, the exhaustion finally catching up to her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“No apologies, Y/N,” he said, his voice firm but full of affection. “You don’t need to apologize for taking care of yourself.”

Without another word, Claggor moved behind her, his arms coming around her to hold her close. He shifted until they were both lying down together on the couch, his body curling protectively around hers. He placed a warm hand gently on her stomach, his touch grounding, steadying.

“I’m here,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. “Let me hold you.”

Y/N melted against him, the pain in her body slowly fading as his presence and warmth enveloped her. She could feel his steady heartbeat against her back, the gentle rise and fall of his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. The pressure on her stomach from his hand was soothing, almost therapeutic.

She let out a soft sigh, feeling the tension leave her body as she relaxed into his embrace. It was the first time all day that she allowed herself to fully give in—to the pain, to the exhaustion, and to the comfort Claggor offered.

His arms tightened around her, pulling her even closer, his hand never leaving her stomach, a steady reassurance that he was there. "You’re not alone in this, Y/N," he murmured. "I’ve got you. I’ll always be here for you."

And in that moment, as she lay with Claggor wrapped around her, she knew that for once, it was okay to rest. She didn’t have to keep pushing forward. Not with him by her side.

[atlabeth]

I desperately need you to give me some jealous nikolai lanstov I'm not even jokinh

my love mine all mine

lowkey continuation of bad luck and im with you; can be read standalone though!

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem reader

summary: after your return to ravka, nikolai's resolve is tested at a ball.

a/n: i have saved this ask since september because i knew one day i would get around to it. i love nikolai lantsov and i dont write jealous fics often so here we go!! this is technically a continuation of bad luck and im with you but you can read it separately. i keep going back to these two for some reason lmao?? idk. theyre childhood friends to lovers with so much strife in between and that's so special to me lmao. but yah enjoy i MISSED WRITING FOR HIM<3

wc: 2.8k

warning(s): nikolai is a lil jealous obviously! small bit of angst, mostly fluff, lil steamy at the end.

Nikolai feels his lip curling, feels his hand tighten on his glass. 

This is a party. A ball, more specifically, but a celebration nonetheless. He should be smiling, mingling, talking up some baron or duke in the name of Ravka’s economy. He is a prince, after all—a bastard, second son of a prince that plans to take the throne at that—and he’s just returned from years at sea. It is in his best interest to do what he does best and talk as much as possible. If anything, he should be arm in arm with the Sun Summoner to boost both their positions. 

But all he can do is stare at you. 

You’re the embodiment of grace. Your practiced smile looks wholly genuine no matter how long you have to keep it up. Your laugh seems to make others smile without even realizing, ringing out clear like church bells. It’s a sound Nikolai knows he would worship to the end of his days, at least. 

You stand in the midst of noblemen and Nikolai only recognizes one—Artem Aslanov, a son of nobles that the two of you spent much of your youth with. He wonders if you remember each other as well. He certainly seems to, the way he stands just a bit too close to you, the way he’s absolutely eager for your attention. Nikolai holds back a scoff. 

The others are likely from various other Ravkan settlements, though one has to be Kaelish, with his almost offensively ginger hair. 

Not that any of it matters, though. Not one of them can tear their eyes away from you as you talk, magnetic with both your words and inherent charm, and they drink up every bit of your presence. 

Something stirs inside Nikolai at the sight. Logically, he knows he has little to worry about—he knows this is your duty as much as it is his, and you care little for any man’s affections but his. 

But Saints, his heart does not want to listen to silly things such as logic. In this moment, Nikolai is reminded of the truth at its barest—you’re a noblewoman of good breeding, quite extravagant wealth, and considerable beauty. Your years at sea have caused you to develop a quick wit and sharp tongue, and it only serves to make you more appealing.

Your flashy return to Ravka has made you perhaps the most desirable lady at court, and Nikolai is forced to realize he no longer has you all to himself anymore. 

Nikolai has planned to come back and take the Lantsov throne for years now, but he can’t help but long for those days again. Teaching you all the ins and outs of the Volkvolny, how to do every sailor’s knot he knows, showing you the misty mountains of the Wandering Isle and the rolling fields of Novyi Zem and the wonderful world outside of Ravka’s courtly constraints. 

Taking over the ships of slavers and clashing blades with drüskelle and watching a thousand sunrises and sunsets together, unbound by anything but tangled up in every part of each other. 

It was almost laughable. You were worried of Nikolai charming others upon your return, and yet here he was, unable to look away from you for even the slightest second because he was jealous of some noble son.

“Your Highness, are you alright?” 

Nikolai turns back to the conversation he is meant to be paying attention to, already offering a smile that he hopes will make up for his utter lack of focus. Of course, he doesn’t really care what this Kerch merchant thinks of him, and Nikolai’s word will probably mean little to his parents at the moment. They’re still quite angry at him for all his Sturmhondish escapades. This man, whose name he has already forgotten, doesn’t seem to know he’s wasting his time. 

“Of course I am,” he says, and he pats him on the shoulder. He means to say more, but then he catches a glance of Artem pulling you to the side, his hand lingering on your waist much too close for comfort. He’s surprised he doesn’t break his glass with how his fingers clench around it even tighter.  

“Then I would be honored for you to consider my—” 

“I apologize, Jansen.” Nikolai ignores the look on his face at both his interruption and being called the wrong name as he drops his hand. “It’s been wonderful chatting with you, but I’m afraid I must take my leave.” 

Nikolai departs before he can get another word out. He’s sure he’ll get an earful later for his ‘disrespect’ but again, he really could not care less. 

He expects to have to weave his way through the crowd, but a path parts for him wherever he moves. Benefits to being a Lantsov prince rather than another privateer on the sea, he supposes. He feels a number of eyes on him as he walks, but he’s focused on one thing and one thing only. 

Artem seems to be as well, seeing as he doesn’t even look up while he continues talking to you. Nikolai doesn’t blame him for being enraptured, but he does wonder what he thinks that boorish smile will do to you. 

Nikolai exclaims your name as he comes up next to you, sliding his arm around your waist like he’s done a thousand times before and claiming his place at your side. “I’ve been looking for you, milaya. You’ve been awfully popular tonight.”

Your gleaming gaze turns to him and Nikolai feels like he can melt. It doesn’t matter how many times you look at him—not even Alina can muster up something to rival your brightness. 

“Nikolai!” 

Again, the way you say his name makes him weak at the knees. The poshness of your Ravkan faded while you were at sea around common sailors and vagrants, and though he can tell you’re trying your best to hide it in the name of courtly etiquette, it still bleeds through. He adores your accent, how it shows the woman you’ve become rather than the girl you ran away from. 

“I’ve been looking for you,” you counter as you lean into him. You’ve applied some fanciful perfume, and it’s intoxicating. He has to stop himself from inhaling deeply—he has little shame when it comes to you, but he’s got to have some poise. “You’re the belle of the ball, Mister Prince.” 

“And you’re the apple of everyone’s eye, lapushka,” he says. “Especially mine.” 

Your heartbeat has been steadily increasing ever since he slotted himself at your side, and he can feel it speed even more with his words. It makes Nikolai smile without even fully realizing it. 

He feels Artem’s gaze on him all the while, and Nikolai chooses to ignore it until now. He looks up, making sure his eyes widen cartoonishly and his smile deepens with the same caliber. “Aslanov! I’m so sorry, I didn’t even notice you!” 

“Your Highness,” he says, polite but terse as he bows his head. “It’s good to see you—it has truly been too long.” 

“Oh, no need for titles,” Nikolai admonishes. “We’re all friends here, are we not?”

He puts particular emphasis on that word, and Artem shifts ever so slightly under Nikolai’s gaze. So he makes him nervous—good. 

“We are,” he agrees, and he looks back at you. “We were merely catching up—it has been years since I last had the good fortune to be in your presence.” Artem smiles at you once again, far more genuine than anything he’s given Nikolai. “Of course, I look forward to hearing about everything you learned at university.” 

“I’ve certainly learned a lot,” you say. Very tongue-in-cheek—you don’t even try to hide it. 

Of course. The cover story for Nikolai’s being away from court was his apprenticeships, culminating in his studies at the University of Ketterdam—it would be a shame of the highest order for your parents to admit you ran away to avoid the marriage they’d planned for you, and even more so to admit it had gotten their daughter kidnapped by slavers, so they simply said you joined him there. 

Advancing your studies for a better view, they’d spouted. We want our heir to be well-educated on all matters of the world. Nikolai knows you learned more on the seas by his side than you would have in a classroom staring at endless amounts of books. He only regrets he can’t shout how amazing you’ve been for the past few years from the rooftops. 

“Perhaps we could discuss it privately some time.” Nikolai will give it to him; his smile is a bit more charming this time. He still wants to punch it off him. “You know, my family has only refined our winemaking over the years—we’d have a wonderful time with a bottle of our finest red—”

“Unfortunately, it will have to wait,” Nikolai cuts in before you can respond. He can’t help it—he’s raring to have you to himself, and he doesn’t know how much more he can take of Artem’s flirting. “My parents are eager to speak to you, darling. We’ll see you around, Aslanov.” 

He pulls you away, once again feeling Artem’s eyes on the two of you. He purposefully pulls you closer against him—your warmth against him does wonders to quell the spike of jealousy in his chest.

“You really are impossible,” you say wryly, but you make no move to part from his side as he leads you through the crowd. 

“I’m just making sure he understands the situation,” Nikolai says innocently. 

“We were just talking,” you say. “You know, it has been years.”

“You were,” he agrees. “But our friend here was very interested in trying to be more. Couldn’t you tell?”

You laugh and you place your hand on his chest. “Nikolai Lantsov, are you jealous?”

“He was talking about his family’s vineyard.” He smiles back at you in turn. He can’t help the bit of bravado that trickles in. “For me to be jealous, I’d have to think he had a chance.”

“Saints, you are!” you exclaim. You stop, halting him in turn, and you grin at him with a twinkle in your eye. Again, he smiles subconsciously just at the sight of it. “Nikolai, I cannot believe you!” 

“How?” he asks, cocking his head boyishly. “Have you caught a glimpse of yourself tonight?”

“I’ve looked at myself in the reflection of every glass,” you say dryly. “After all the time spent in sea-faring clothes, it’s very strange to be back in gowns.”

“Then you should know how absolutely stunning you are,” he says. “Breathtaking, showstopping, the very image of perfection…” Nikolai runs his finger over the embroidery on one of your off-the-shoulder sleeves. The rest of his hand lingers on your bare skin, and he longs to remove the barrier his gloves have created. 

“And yet it still doesn’t beat how you look in a privateer’s garb,” Nikolai says. 

He places his hand over yours and brings it up from his chest. He entangles your fingers and uses the grasp to pull you even closer to him, your chests nearly touching. The warmth of your body tempts him to go even further, but he holds back. 

“Really?” you ask. “This gown cost more vlachkas than anyone deserves, took the labor of a small army to create, and weighs as much as you do, and you like me more in that dingy jacket with pants that smell like gunpowder?” 

“Oh, yes,” Nikolai nods. “They don’t just smell like gunpowder—they make your rear look very appealing.” 

You laugh louder than you should and it draws eyes in your direction. You don’t pay them any mind, gaze still locked on Nikolai, as you hit him on the chest. 

“You still have the mind of a sailor, I see,” you drawl. “But I must admit I also miss it. The simplicity, if anything.” 

“Just because I didn’t keep a king’s mantle on deck doesn’t mean I wasn’t outfitted in the same gaudy way,” Nikolai says. “A Lantsov must always be prepared, you know.” 

“Well, I used to hate that blue frock of yours, especially when we first reunited,” you muse. You extract your hand and trail your fingers down his current coat—he shivers at your touch even through the material. “Now I think I prefer it over anything else in your wardrobe.”

He frowns. “You hated my coat?” 

“I hated a lot of things at the time,” you say wryly. Your hand finds its way back to his and you intertwine them together again. “Besides, it’s grown on me.” 

Nikolai chuckles, and the two of you fall silent when you shift and rest your head on his shoulder. You’ve managed to find your way to the edge of the ballroom, and it gives you a little more privacy. You stand together, watching as everyone mingles, half bearing a fake smile and the other half lying through their teeth. He didn’t think the Ravkan court would like to think they had more in common with his lying, cheating, stealing crew than they thought.  

“So,” Nikolai says, finally breaking the silence, “is being back everything you’ve imagined?”

You huff. “Hardly. Everything is so… restrained.” 

He hums in acknowledgement. “Speaking of restrained, have your parents gotten over their fit yet?” 

Your laugh is sharper this time. “Once again, hardly. You’d think I murdered the queen the way they’re treating me.” 

Nikolai expected that, to be honest. He insisted on being by your side in the initial reunion and they didn’t dare act out of turn in front of royalty, but you said the moment you returned to your palace apartment with them, they yelled at you loud enough to be heard in Novyi Zem. 

“They should be thankful,” Nikolai scoffs. “It’s like they don’t even care what nearly happened to you because of their haste to marry you off.” 

“I don’t even like to think about it,” you murmur. He feels you shiver and he pulls you even closer to him. “But I was right—they want me to be who I was before I left. They’re even convinced that they can get me to agree to the marriage they’ve got planned.” 

His frown deepens. “Saints, must I sweep you off your feet in front of all of Ravka to get everyone to realize you’re a taken woman? I am a very good shot, but I’ve only got so many bullets—”

“Nikolai,” you interrupt with a laugh, raising your head to look him in the eye. He’s glad to see the lightness has returned. Your near fate isn’t a subject either of you like to talk about. “You don’t need to worry, and you certainly don’t need to worry about that.” You cup his cheek with your hand and he leans into your touch. “If one thing has stayed the same through all of this, it’s that you’re the only one out there for me. After all the pomp and circumstance you have to perform with Alina is over, you can tell them yourself.” 

“Good,” Nikolai says with a slight smile. “Because I don’t think I can stand to hear Aslanov talk about the grapes his family’s been growing for another second.” 

You laugh again, and you lean in to press a kiss to his lips. Nikolai beats you to it as he covers your hand with his own, using his other to draw you even closer. Practically every part of you is touching as he kisses you like a starving man, with your lips against his and your perfume invading his senses and your soft moan that’s muffled against his mouth. After a night spent away from your side and having to watch other men compete fruitlessly for your affections, he might as well be. 

When you finally pull away, lipstick a mess and pupils dilated and expression nothing less than adoration, it takes everything Nikolai has in him not to take your face in his hands and do it all over again. He wants to mess up your hair, your makeup, kiss your lips until they’re swollen and ravish, worship your body until you can think of nothing but him, say nothing but his name. 

“Nikolai,” you gasp, interrupting his sinful thoughts, “do you want to get out of here for a bit?” 

Whatever restraint he previously had dissolves with your words as he kisses you again, harder this time. You’re water when he’s dying, a lifeboat when he’s drowning, the very air he needs to breathe. Everything has come to a head after such a boring, strength-testing night, and all Nikolai wants is you. 

He brings you even closer with the arm he has around your waist, already starting to pull you along as he heads towards the doorways. He’s sure to stick to the walls, not wanting to draw more attention than necessary when even the flushed warmth of your heated skin through his jacket is enough to drive him crazy. 

Nikolai doesn’t know how he ever spent seven years away from you. He could barely handle half a ball. 

“More than anything,” he breathes. 

[hungharrington]

ok this is filth adjacent but would u ever write a lil blurb or fic about Steve with a gf whose super insecure about her stretch marks and body? And May be she doesn't want to disappoint Steve bc his exes seem prettier

would i ever! i love these type of requests i love ppl getting a little bit of respite and comfort through fic esp in smut! i hope this makes u feel even a little bit hotter babe <3 1.6k, afab!reader, and just filth adjacent sry! MDNI this entire blog is 18+

Steve's mouth is on your neck, his tongue hot where it teases against your skin, and his hands are searching your body with a lustful fervor.

Your head tips back. It's so easy to let him in, let him slide his body closer to yours, to get more of whatever he's giving. The hot press of his mouth on your neck feels damn good enough to make your blood sing—and heat travel between your thighs, wetness beginning to pool.

You want to rub your thighs together, if only for a little relief. Steve's toned thigh between them prevents it. You scrunch his polo between your hands instead, trying to wrestle the courage to slip your hands beneath it.

You're lying back on his bed, propped up lightly by the pile of pillows the two of you had stacked when the evening had begun. The television at the end of the bed runs a film idly in the background, completely unnoticed by this point.

"How we doin'?" Steve's voice rumbles out, barely parting his lips from your skin before he's swooping back in to nip at it again. The bastard.

Your hands flex again, finally mustering the nerve to dive beneath the fabric of his shirt. Steve's warm. You feel the muscles of his tummy shudder as you skim your fingers across it, a pleasurable shiver running down your spine at the trail of hair you can feel leading into his pants. Steve's breath hitches, close to your ear.

He nudges your jaw with his nose lovingly, planting another row of sloppy, wet kisses down the expanse of your neck.

"Hmm," He hums, questioningly. "Still doing good?"

You realise you hadn't exactly answered him and something glows in your chest at his insistent checks. Extremely reluctantly, you manage to drag your hands away from his torso, shifting them up to subtly nudge his face out the curve of your neck.

Steve's eyes dart up to your face as he pulls himself back, his expression turning dopey the moment your hands cup his jaw. His cheeks are flushed ruby and his hair has been mussed in all his steamy motions. He looks fucking delicious.

You kiss him — surging up to connect your mouths, warmth exploding in your chest and trickling down, down when Steve responds with a revere hunger. His plush lips scrape against yours filthily, his tongue always so perfectly teasing. You're gasping for air when you pull away.

"So good," You say breathily, finally answering the question.

Steve takes a moment longer to register what you've said—but that dopey look crosses his face the moment he does.

He plants his hands on the bed and shifts his weight back, sitting back on his heels. His thigh is still situated right between yours and you have to shove down the lustful urge to grind against it, lazy pleasure still pooling low in your gut. Though you're pretty sure Steve wouldn't oppose the idea.

Chest heaving lightly, you watch as Steve reaches for the edges of his polo and tugs upwards. It comes off in one smooth motion and you're rewarded with a fine sight. You're pretty sure your mouth actually waters in response. Tan chest, scattered moles, the smattering of hair. Oh god, you want to lick him.

Something in your face must give away your train of thought because Steve laughs. He leans back down, one hand moving to your waist, and nuzzles his nose against yours. He steals a kiss from your lips.

"See somethin' you like?" He says, the smirk evident in his tone. You feel like you might vibrate out of your skin.

"Shut up," You aim for fiesty and fall far, far short. You sound on the verge of a whine when you say, "You know I do."

Steve grins wider. His hand on your waist tucks under your shirt seamlessly, his thumb drawing maddening circles into the skin. Your breath catches, even as your arousal hikes.

"What about you?" He whispers the question between his kisses as he mouths along your jaw again, finding that same damn spot on your neck again. It'll be violet coloured by the morning. "Do I get to see something I'll like?"

He's asking permission. It takes a long moment to realise that—too distracted between the touch of his fingertips skating across your skin and the addicting feel of his lips against your pulse.

You nod without thinking.

Steve pulls your shirt up no more than a few inches before your brain catches back up. Your hand moves abruptly, grabbing his hand and yanking it and your shirt back down in a split second.

Steve's halting in an instant, pulling back from working lovebites on your neck to see what he's done wrong. There's a string of spit connecting his lips to your neck.

Steve frowns in concern, shifting his hand up wipe his mouth with the back of his hand, as he makes an effort to put a little distance between you.

"You okay?" He asks. You're still holding his wrist, which is still holding the edge of your shirt. "What happened?"

Your mouth opens uselessly and closes. You know precisely why you had stopped him and now you're facing up with the fact you have to tell him, lest Steve believe you're actually having second thoughts over being with him.

It's just... you've probably spent far too many hours in the mirror. You've seen it from every angle. Seen it in every lighting. You can't quite ever seem to make your body look good.

You don't look like any of the girls Steve's been with in the past.

Comparison is killer, you're aware of this, but infuriatingly you just can't seem to stop. You think of what Steve will see the moment he gets your shirt off, what he'll realise, and your hand tightens around his wrist subconsciously. Your throat tightens up too.

Steve's face melts into a softer expression, eyes big. "Hey, hey, it's totally fine if you said one thing and- and you realise that you didn't mean it, it's okay."

Words continue to evade you and humiliatingly, it feels more likely that tears will escape you before any explanation will. He's being so nice.

"But..." Steve continues, his tone wary as if aware he's treading on uneven ground. "You seemed like you were into it. Like, comfortable, I mean. Then it was like a flip switched and you froze."

"I-" You finally find your voice. You clear your throat as you try to find the right words, breaking Steve's intense gaze to study the ceiling.

This is worse. This has got to be worse that just Steve taking your shirt off and being disappointed because— because you're goddamn building up to it. Your eyes screw shut and you decide it's better to rip the band-aid off.

"I'm just," You can't quite keep the quiver out of your voice. "I'm not like- like girls you've dated before."

Steve makes a noise of confusion and it's enough to force your eyes open. You glance down, taking in Steve's adorably furrowed brow.

"Okay...?" He says, clearly still a bit confused.

"I mean, Steve," You say, voice a little steadier. Your hand around his wrist finally remembers to relax.

You release the hold on him and tuck your hand under your shirt discretely, covering the skin of your stomach you know is warped with stretch marks. "I don't look like the girls you've dated before. My- my body is different."

The wrinkle between Steve's brow shifts, moving from confused to something a little harsher.

"So?"

You blink. Of all the possibilities that you had run, not one of them had ended with Steve saying that.

"So?" You echo meekly. "So... so you might be like, I don't know, disappointed or think—mfh"

The words get smushed beneath Steve's fervent kiss, stealing one kiss off your lips and all your words with it. You blink up at him again, all your endless arguments of why Steve would be so disappointed suddenly silenced.

Steve grins, evidently pleased with his reaction.

Tentatively, moving slowly so you could intervene if you wished, he drags his hand along the sheets and onto your hip again. This time, however, he pushes the fabric of your shirt up and doesn't pause til it's bunched up, most of your torso on show.

Your nerves gather, gnawing at the edges of your chest. You can't bring yourself to move the hand that's trying to hide part of you, even if a dozen other stretch marks are visible now.

Then Steve leans down and he kisses your skin, right in the middle of your tummy.

"I think," He says, lips dragging across your skin and setting it aflame. He's looking up at your through his lashes, your gazes locked, his eyes dark. Another kiss, this time longer, with just a flash of tongue. "You're hot shit."

Instinct makes you want to scoff. But Steve says it so seriously that you almost believe him off the bat. Believe that he believes that.

He lowers himself onto his elbows, letting both of his large hands settle onto your waist, fingers pressing into the skin lightly. You shiver at the feeling and start to consider the possibility that he actually does think that.

"And I will gladly," He punctuates the word with another kiss, this one evolving into a soft, sensual lick up towards your breasts which peak lustfully in response. Your breath hitches. "Spend all the time needed if you need some convincing of that."

His hands move, sliding down til he's gently knocking yours aside, big warms hands spread across your hips. His thumbs are moving, drawing soft motions down, you realise, towards your waistband. Your pulse jumps between your legs, the heat in your body uncaring about the brief interruption.

Steve kisses your tummy again, further down this time. You acutely realise you've got Steve Harrington between your thighs, looking up at you with darkened eyes and promising filthy things with his fingers. Or mouth. Both if you're lucky.

"So," Steve murmurs, voice raspy and low. His thumbs slip beneath your waistband, just an inch. "You gonna let me convince you?"

You're feeling pretty damn lucky.

[signanothername]

Was listening to “The Court Jester” before I thought of something.

Does your version of Nightmare have like, a will of some sort? Like, if Nightmare were to die because if Dream had won against him and like, killed nightmare or nightmare just died cause he old and crusty (/hj), would Killer get his things?? Like his mansion/castle, clothing, throne, prized possessions, etc. .or would Killer just mourn over Nightmare, wander around the castle and like, get nothing but help himself to things inside of it? Finding his secrets and stuff like that?

Interesting question >:)

Ok so i feel like it’s pretty much clear Nightmare does own a lot of things, his castle one of them of course

But I feel like had Nightmare died Killer wouldn’t inherit anything after, cause to inherit something you need to be a family, which Killer isn’t, and tbh, I don’t think Killer would ever care enough to want to inherit Nightmare’s possessions regardless, he certainly wouldn’t care if Nightmare died either

Nightmare’s death would negatively impact Killer, but not in a “Killer would feel sad and mourn Nightmare” kinda way, more like “Killer had been a bit codependent on Nightmare to find purpose that now Nightmare’s dead he doesn’t truly understand what to do with his life” kinda way, but even then, it’s not like Killer truly understood if he had any purpose at all anymore other than to be someone’s killing machine, so i feel like he’d move on to do whatever the fuck he wants anywhere he wants

Killer would simply abandon the castle and go somewhere else, especially with the fact that the one who kept him trapped there no longer exists to continue keeping him there, and it’s not like Killer holds any attachment to it or Nightmare, Killer can’t feel anything most of the time anyway, and even when he does (stage 1) it’s not like he holds Nightmares in high regard (especially with how Nightmare treated him)

Know who’d actually inherit Nightmare’s possessions tho? Dream, and unlike Killer, I can see Dream actually genuinely caring about inherenting every little thing Nightmare ever owned, cause Nightmare’s possessions are the only things left of his now dead brother, Dream would heavily mourn the loss of his brother and I can even see him taking care of Nightmare’s possessions for the rest of his ageless life, making sure the castle is spotless (spring cleaning if you will) he’d take all Nightmare had, from paperwork, to photos, to books, to the crescent golden crown and keep them somewhere safe, making sure they never wear down with time

Dream knows Nightmare actually cares about keeping things prestine and he aims to keep it as prestine as he possibly can (and maybe it’s cause of the crushing guilt weighing him down about how both their lives had been, and how he couldn’t ever fix it)

And who knows, maybe Dream would start healing when he realizes that there’s a tiny part of Nightmare that still cared about him even after his corruption in the process ;)

Part 2 (of sorts)

Part 3 (a lil bit)

Part 4