#Legend could you cheer up a bit?

[gutiuniverse]

Hyrule: POSITIVITY TIME! Hyrule: SAY IT WITH ME: HOPE! Legend: Hope Hyrule: AND WHAT IS IT?! :D Legend: The first step towards disappointment

[dksfml]

off my face - yjw

pairing: jungwon x reader genre: soulmate au, mega FLUFF word count: 6.6k summary: in a world where each person has a soulmate mark indicating where they will be touched by their soulmate for the first time, there’s jungwon—the soccer team captain you’d like to be ruined by forever—who has no soulmate mark at all. what does that make you, someone whose mark has changed color because of him? author's note: finally!! here's your most awaited blond jungwon fic that i skipped sleep for<3333 inspired by this amazing prompt my friend sent me.

One touch and you got me stoned. Higher than I've ever known. You call the shots and I follow. Sunrise, but the night still young. No words, but we speak in tongues. If you let me, I might say too much.

You sat near the front row, posture perfect, eyes narrowed as Professor Min’s lecture on ancient mythology took a surprising turn. Today’s topic wasn’t just history—it was soulmate lore, the mysterious marks everyone was born with, and the myths that surrounded them. The professor’s calm, seasoned voice filled the room, but the air buzzed with barely contained excitement. Everyone was alert, even the usual back-row whisperers, captivated by the promise of something rare: a sanctioned discussion about their most private marks.

“These soulmate marks,” Professor Min began, his gaze sweeping the room with a faint smile, “are said to be the final traces of a bond forged in a past life. Legends tell us that in each lifetime, we may be separated from our soulmates, lost to distance or circumstance. But the marks,” he gestured to his own faintly darkened palm, “are said to be the soul’s way of leaving a trail—a reminder.”

A murmur rippled through the room. Everyone had a mark, a small patch of inky darkness, as distinct as fingerprints, mapped out on their bodies. Some had them on their palms or fingertips, waiting for the day a handshake or brush of fingers would light up that mark with color. Others had them in more curious places, whispering of fated touches in the most unlikely moments.

"The legend says," Professor Min continued, "that these marks were painted by one’s soulmate in a past life, a vow made in hopes to meet again, to find each other across time."

You clenched your pen a little tighter, the faint tickle of wonder battling the urge to keep your expression blank and unfeeling. You’d always kept your interest in soulmate marks private. They seemed so full of mystery, and the idea of your soulmate waiting for you somewhere was oddly… reassuring. You glanced down, conscious of the mark behind your knee, hidden like a strange secret that even you could barely understand. What kind of first touch would even reach there? The thought was both amusing and baffling, and you stifled a wry smile.

Around you, other students leaned in to chat, loud enough that their conversations blended into a steady hum. Your classmate Arin nudged her friend, laughing as she displayed the faint mark on her palm. “I’ve been dying to know who’ll shake my hand one day,” she whispered excitedly, her eyes glimmering with hope.

But your gaze drifted just beyond Arin, landing instead on a familiar figure lounging in the middle row with his legs stretched out, looking every bit like he was born to disrupt things without lifting a finger. Jungwon. Handsome in a way that seemed almost unfair, with striking, dark eyes framed by lashes that cast subtle shadows on his cheeks, and hair the color of midnight that fell in soft, tousled waves. He had this effortless, magnetic presence that drew people toward him, like he knew he didn’t need to try.

As captain of the soccer team and one of the most well-known faces on campus, Jungwon somehow managed to look both sharp and relaxed, as if the attention his looks or reputation brought him meant nothing. You’d been crushing on him since last year, an avid fan always present at his games, cheering him on like a lovesick fool. Whenever he scored a goal, you felt your heart leap, and you couldn’t help but unleash your inner fangirl, your excitement spilling over as you screamed his name. Right now, he seemed half-listening to his friends, a hint of a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he leaned back, eyes drifting up to the ceiling before refocusing on his friends. It was that easygoing confidence that made him impossible not to notice—and, for you, impossible not to think about.

It was a boy from his friend group, Jay, who interrupted the class chatter by slapping a hand down on the table and teasing, “Come on, Won. You don’t have a soulmate mark, my foot. No one gets off that easy.” The comment was light-hearted but loaded, and more than a few students turned to look.

To your surprise, Jungwon didn’t react with one of his usual witty comebacks or careless shrugs. Instead, he just rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of something almost vulnerable flashing across his face. “No, really,” he insisted, almost apologetically. “I don’t have one. I checked a million times as a kid.”

Your pen paused mid-note, and a slight, irrational disappointment prickled in your chest. It was hard to believe, especially about someone like Jungwon, whose very presence seemed destined to leave a mark on others. Soulmate marks might be rare, but someone like him not having one? It felt impossible, like a missing piece that no one noticed until it was too late.

For a fleeting moment, you wondered if maybe he just hadn’t found it yet. After all, some people only discovered their mark when it finally turned to color. Sometimes it wasn’t a visible spot on the skin but something far subtler—a shadow in the hue of their lips that would only brighten after a first kiss, or a darkness lingering in an eye, invisible until the gentle touch of someone wiping away their tears brought it to life. The thought sent a strange warmth to your cheeks as you glanced back toward him, wondering if Jungwon’s missing mark was just waiting for the right person to unlock it.

Still, he looked surprisingly honest, a faint hint of sadness clouding his otherwise bright gaze. For someone so magnetic, it was as if he was caught drifting in space, without any tether connecting him to anyone at all.

“Alright, alright,” Jay relented, raising his hands in surrender but laughing all the same. “Guess someone’s too cool to be fated to anyone, huh?”

The professor’s voice cut back in, and you forced yourself to refocus, though your mind lingered on Jungwon’s quiet expression and the flicker of something in his eyes, something both resigned and deeply private. Could he really be alone in a world where everyone else was bound to someone?

“Imagine having your mark on your knuckles,” Arin whispered beside you with a grin, oblivious to the moment that had just passed. “You’d probably knock your soulmate out before you even realized they were ‘the one’!”

Another round of laughter scattered through the room, like a shared inside joke. The air felt charged, as if everyone were suddenly curious about each other’s marks, glancing around with new eyes. You let out a small sigh, tapping your pen against your notebook with a faint smile. As much as you tried to keep up the class president, model-student act, the idea of soulmates fascinated you in a way you’d never quite admit.

When the bell finally rang, the room filled with that familiar end-of-class chaos. You started packing up, keeping your head down—until you noticed Jungwon slinging his bag over his shoulder, looking effortlessly put-together, as usual. He laughed at something his friend said, his expression relaxed, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. But you couldn’t help catching the faintest flicker of something else in his gaze as he glanced at his friends—like a momentary, unguarded look that felt… wistful?

Okay, maybe that was just you being overly imaginative.

You let out a little huff as you slung your own bag over your shoulder, shaking off the strange pity you’d felt moments before. So what if Jungwon didn’t have a mark? You barely even knew him. Well, you kind of knew him, but from a distance—and with way more daydreams than you’d like to admit. Still, it was silly to wonder about him, right? With your head full of these thoughts, you walked out into the hallway, lost in a world where maybe, just maybe, he was wondering about you, too.

And as you brushed past a group of friends, laughing and shoving each other, your hand slipped over the back of your knee, where your own mark was hidden—quiet, waiting, and as mysterious as ever.

The sky was an endless blue, stretching wide over the school field as your class spilled out onto the grass for PE. With the teacher conveniently on vacation, today’s instructions were simple: enjoy the free time. Most of your classmates took to the field, breaking off into little clusters for a lazy game of soccer, light stretches, or simple gossip sessions by the bleachers.

As class president, you took it upon yourself to ensure no one went too far or caused trouble. Your duty, as you saw it, was to survey your classmates from a slight distance, keeping an eye out with the calm, serious gaze you’d carefully perfected. Yet even from the sidelines, your eyes found themselves drifting toward a familiar figure on the field, drawn to him like magnets.

Jungwon was at the center of the field with his friends, casual and relaxed, but his every move carried an elegance that made your pulse skip. He was laughing at something his friend said, his eyes crinkling as he kicked the soccer ball back and forth, the glint of a confident smirk tugging at his lips. His ease on the field was mesmerizing, a mixture of strength and grace that made it hard to look away.

You reminded yourself to focus, scanning the field to check on the other groups. But before you could pull your attention back entirely, a voice called out, and you saw Jungwon pivot to chase the soccer ball—only for it to ricochet off his foot, headed directly toward you with alarming speed.

In the split second it took you to react, you felt a sharp thud against the back of your knees. The impact sent you stumbling forward, knees buckling beneath you as you tumbled to the ground. Pain flared up where the ball had struck, but it was drowned out by the shock of it all.

“Oh no—are you okay?” Jungwon’s voice was breathless with concern, his steps hurried as he reached you. You barely had a chance to process his arrival before he knelt beside you, face flushed and clearly panicked. His hand hovered awkwardly as if afraid to touch you, his usual calm replaced with something far more vulnerable.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to— Are you hurt?” he stammered, his voice unusually soft. He reached out gently, his hands carefully brushing against your arm as he tried to help you up. “Can you stand?”

Your mind struggled to catch up to the moment, and it took everything you had to keep your stoic demeanor intact. Jungwon was close, closer than he’d ever been, and the intensity of his worried gaze was unexpectedly disarming. Even as pain pulsed through your knee, you couldn’t help but stare, captivated by how intensely he focused on you, as if everything else in the world had fallen away.

“I’m fine, really,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. But as soon as you tried to stand, pain shot up your leg.

Jungwon’s expression shifted to one of determination, and before you could protest, he slid one arm under your knees and lifted you up, his other arm around your shoulders. The world tilted as he held you in a firm, steady grip, his face barely inches from yours. “We’re getting you to the nurse. No arguments.”

You blinked, momentarily stunned by his closeness, by the warmth radiating from him. “Oh—okay.” The words left your mouth almost on instinct, your brain still catching up with the fact that Jungwon was carrying you, his focus set entirely on you. His hands brushed your arm as he adjusted his grip, and you felt a strange warmth bloom under your skin, something unfamiliar and electric.

The walk to the nurse’s office was quiet, but you couldn’t ignore the way his gaze flickered to you, the gentleness in his expression as he murmured, “Sorry again. I’d never forgive myself if I hurt the class president.”

Your lips parted, searching for something to say, but the way he looked at you—soft, maybe even a bit shy—left you wordless. All you could do was nod, your heart pounding louder with each step as you held onto the feeling of his arms around you, wondering if he could hear it too.

It wasn’t until you glanced down that you noticed it—a faint shift of color beneath your knee where the ball had struck. The mark, once hidden and dark, now radiated a subtle but unmistakable bright yellow hue, soft and warm against your skin.

You froze, eyes wide, as the realization settled in. Jungwon was still mumbling apologies, unaware of the discovery you’d just made. Only he could have caused the mark to change; he was the only one who had touched that spot. The idea left you breathless, your mind scrambling to make sense of it all.

In the clinic, the nurse examined your knee with a quick, professional assessment. “You’ll be fine,” she declared, sending you off with an ice pack and a faint smile. But your thoughts were still racing, tangled up in the startling realization that Jungwon might actually be your soulmate.

The whole walk back to class, you replayed the moment in your mind, trying to make sense of it. Maybe it was a coincidence. Perhaps someone had brushed the back of your knee at some other time, and you simply hadn’t noticed. But deep down, you knew the truth—the mark had only changed when Jungwon touched you.

And when you returned to class, he was there, hovering near the door with a worried frown. He looked up as you approached, eyes bright with relief.

“Are you okay?” he asked, a slight smile breaking through the concern etched into his features. “I was worried about you.”

Your heart skipped as you nodded, doing your best to keep your voice steady. “I’m fine. Just… a bit shaken up, that’s all.” You felt the weight of the new secret pressing down on you, but you forced yourself to smile.

Jungwon’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck in that effortlessly charming way of his. “I’m glad. I’ll be more careful with my aim next time.”

You smiled back, feeling the weight of the mark’s new color, of the quiet truth only you knew. As Jungwon returned to his seat, your gaze drifted to the back of your knee, where the mark lay hidden under the fabric of your clothes, now touched by color—by him.

In the days following the incident on the field, the world seemed to shift around you, humming with an energy you couldn’t quite shake. The back of your knee, where Jungwon’s touch had changed your soulmate mark to a soft, distinct yellow color, was a constant reminder of the possibility that your crush—Jungwon, the ever-handsome and kind soccer captain—might be something even more significant than you’d ever dared to imagine.

“How’s your knee?” he asked, his voice warm and tinged with that familiar gentleness that made your heart stutter.

“Oh, it’s fine, really!” You waved it off, attempting to tuck your leg further under your desk, hoping he wouldn’t notice the faint new color to the mark that still lingered behind your knee.

Jungwon didn’t seem to buy it. “Are you sure?” he asked, his brows furrowing as he leaned down, intent on seeing for himself. Before he could get a closer look, you tugged your skirt down a little farther, hiding the mark as best as you could.

“I’m sure, really,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone casual. “It’s just a little sore, nothing to worry about.”

For a moment, he hesitated, his gaze lingering on you, unreadable. Then he nodded, standing up with a quiet, sheepish smile. “Alright. I’ll trust you, but only if you promise to let me know if it starts hurting again.”

You managed a nod, clutching your books a little tighter to keep your hands steady. “I promise,” you said, hoping he didn’t notice the flicker of nerves in your eyes.

Your third shared class of the week was English, and just as the teacher assigned the day’s group work, the class began to shift into pairs. Coincidentally (or so you told yourself), the seating arrangement placed Jungwon near you that day.

“Hey,” he said, his voice soft as he approached. He offered you one of his signature, heart-stopping smiles. “Mind if we pair up? I mean…if you’re okay with it.”

With an effort to keep your expression neutral, you nodded. “Sure,” you replied, your voice steady even though your heart was anything but.

Settling at a table near the window, you both pulled out your notebooks. The task was straightforward—analyzing a poem about soulmates. You caught a breath at the irony, and Jungwon, seemingly unfazed, began reading the passage aloud. His voice, low and calm, wove through the words as you listened, though your mind kept wandering to his every movement, the way his eyes flickered thoughtfully over the page, how his fingers held the pencil lightly but with intention.

“What do you think?” he asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

You cleared your throat, willing your focus back to the assignment. “I think…well, it’s romantic. But it’s also kind of tragic, right? There’s always this sense of waiting—like, what if they don’t meet?”

Jungwon’s gaze flickered up, lingering on your face a little longer than necessary. “Yeah, that’s true,” he agreed, his voice thoughtful. “The idea that you’re waiting your whole life for just one person…it’s a lot of pressure.”

He paused, eyes settling on you, as if searching for something beneath the calm exterior you held so tightly. “Do you… believe in it? Soulmates, I mean?”

Caught off guard, you looked down, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on the edge of your notebook. You thought of your parents, of their own lovely story about finding each other through their marks, and how you’d grown up with those tales of destiny. And now, here you were, sitting with the very boy who might be your own fated match.

“I think,” you began slowly, “that I want to believe in it. My parents…they have one of those classic stories. It’s hard not to believe in soulmates when you’ve heard stories like that all your life.”

He nodded, listening intently. “I get that. I guess…sometimes I wonder what it would be like. But it’s hard to picture when you don’t…you know, have any marks yourself.”

The quiet sadness in his tone took you by surprise. You’d never considered what it might be like to go through life without a soulmate mark, to feel like something intrinsic was missing, a feeling that destiny had passed you by. Suddenly, your thoughts flickered back to the legends the elders told—how markless people were said to carry the weight of unrequited love from a past life, doomed to wander without a soulmate to mark them in this one. The idea hung heavy in the air, mingling with your sympathy for him.

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, then,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “Maybe people without marks find their person too, in other ways.” You couldn’t help but think that perhaps Jungwon was one of those souls, burdened by a love that never came to fruition.

The silence that followed was heavy but not uncomfortable. Jungwon seemed lost in thought, his gaze drifting out the window as he considered your words. And just then, a strange sense of comfort washed over you, knowing that even if he was unaware of it, you shared a connection that went beyond what either of you could see.

“Maybe,” he said finally, and then he flashed you a lopsided grin. “Well, even if soulmates are real, maybe it’s a good thing I’m mark-free. I don’t think I’d want someone to find out I was their soulmate because I hit them with a soccer ball.”

His laughter rang out, and you couldn’t help but join him, but beneath the mirth, your heart clenched. You wanted to tell him everything—to reveal the secret that could bridge the chasm between you. But as the words formed on your lips, fear gripped you. What if you were wrong? What if he truly didn’t have a soulmate mark, and this moment of connection was just a fleeting illusion?

So you swallowed hard, plastering a smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Well, let’s just keep that between us, then,” you replied, hoping to mask the anxiety swirling inside you.

Inside, the truth weighed heavy, a secret that felt more like a burden than a bond. Keeping it hidden seemed safer, easier—even if it left you feeling like a ghost, drifting alongside him but never truly reaching out. The thought of him being one of those markless souls—the ones who carried the pain of a love never realized—made you ache. You didn’t want him to feel that emptiness, and yet, here you were, hiding a truth that might shatter the fragile connection you shared.

Perhaps it was better this way. Better to hold onto your heartache in silence than risk shattering the bond you had built, no matter how tenuous it felt. As you returned to the assignment, the bittersweet taste of longing lingered on your tongue, mixing with the thrill of possibility, leaving you torn between the hope of what could be and the fear of what might never come to pass.

Finally, during your biology class, your teacher assigned a laboratory cleaning rotation. By the luck of the draw—or maybe a twist of fate—you found yourself paired with Jungwon. It was supposed to be a simple task, but as the two of you gathered supplies and began tidying up the classroom after hours, you felt the weight of every quiet moment.

Jungwon appeared beside you as you straightened a stack of textbooks, arms full of markers and erasers. His casual, laid-back attitude only heightened the quiet thrill that being near him sparked in you. As he handed you an eraser, your fingers brushed slightly, and you pulled back quickly, heart racing.

"Are you always this… serious?" Jungwon teased, his lips curving into a half-smile. "I mean, you don’t have to look like we’re cleaning the whole school."

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “It’s just how I work. I take tasks seriously.”

He nodded, still smiling. “You’re impressive, you know. It’s like…you’re always so composed, like nothing rattles you.”

Caught off guard by his observation, you froze momentarily, not sure how to respond. Behind your serious exterior, you were anything but composed—especially around him. Before you could answer, he turned away to tidy the bookshelves, leaving you wondering if he’d picked up on the effect he had on you.

After a while, Jungwon returned to the task at hand, dusting off a few of the windowsills. It was quiet for a few minutes, the sounds of your combined effort filling the room. You both worked in sync, a silent rhythm that had developed without either of you realizing it. And then, with an abruptness that caught you off guard, he spoke again.

“Hey,” he said, hesitating. “I know this might be a weird question, but… where’s your soulmate mark?”

The question hung in the air between you, heavy with implications you weren’t ready to unravel. Your heart thudded as you carefully set down the books you’d been holding, gathering your thoughts.

You felt a flush creep up your cheeks. "Um, it's… it's on my knee," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. The intimacy of the moment made you shy, and you instinctively shifted your weight, the hem of your skirt falling to cover your knee even more.

Jungwon raised an eyebrow, curiosity glimmering in his eyes. “Oh? Is it… already in color?”

You hesitated for a brief moment, weighing your words. “Uh, yeah,” you replied, biting your lip. “It changed a while ago. But it’s not a big deal.” You left out the part about him possibly being your soulmate, feeling the weight of that truth settle heavily in the air between you.

His expression shifted slightly, disappointment flashing across his features before he masked it with a casual smile. “That’s cool,” he said, his voice a bit quieter now. “I guess… it must be nice to have that certainty.”

“Yeah,” you said, trying to keep the mood light despite the sudden heaviness in your chest. “I mean, it’s comforting, I suppose.”

But beneath your words, a sense of longing stirred. You noticed how his gaze faltered for a moment, and it struck you then how much he had hoped for something different. He had seemed eager, maybe even hopeful, and the realization stung a little.

Jungwon cleared his throat, breaking the silence that had settled over you both. “So, um… did you see the last soccer game?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation in a different direction. “I think we really need to work on our defense.”

His attempt at lightheartedness felt slightly forced, and you could see a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. Still, it was nice to see him trying to shake off the heaviness from moments before.

“Yeah, I caught a bit of it,” you replied, grateful for the shift in focus. “You guys played well, though a couple of those goals were pretty close calls.”

He chuckled, the tension easing just a little. “Yeah, I think I almost gave our coach a heart attack with that last-minute save,” he said, grinning. It was an infectious smile, and you found yourself smiling back despite the weight still resting in the back of your mind.

The annual school festival arrived faster than expected, and the campus buzzed with activity and excitement. Classrooms were transformed into themed booths, hallways were draped with handmade decorations, and students wore colorful festival shirts and badges, their faces bright with paint and laughter. You found yourself stationed at the face-painting booth, brush in hand, ready to tackle the endless line of eager students.

You’d always enjoyed events like these—participating in the festival offered you a rare chance to relax and feel connected to your classmates outside of the usual seriousness you maintained as class president. Here, you were just another student, painting stars, hearts, and stripes on familiar faces.

“Hey, what’s up? Need a painter?” your friend Taeyoung called out to the next group approaching your booth. You followed his gaze and felt your heart skip when you recognized Jungwon and his friends heading your way, laughing and jostling each other. He wore a loose festival shirt with sleeves rolled up, a casual look that somehow made him even more handsome. You quickly glanced down, suddenly hyper-aware of your paintbrushes and the paper towels you clutched a little too tightly.

The booth was busy, and with most of your fellow painters occupied, it didn’t take long for Taeyoung to pair Jungwon with you. “Hey, Y/N, looks like you’ve got a VIP customer! Captain Jungwon wants to be a canvas today,” he said, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he nudged Jungwon playfully.

Jungwon chuckled, but there was a flicker of something else in his eyes—an eagerness mixed with a hint of shyness. “Yeah, I guess I’m in your hands now,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “No pressure, right?”

You swallowed hard, trying to maintain your composure as your heart raced. “Uh, right! No pressure at all,” you replied, your voice a little too bright. “What do you have in mind?”

You forced yourself to meet Jungwon’s eyes, fighting back the nervous excitement bubbling in your chest. “So… what would you like?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungwon’s usual confident smile softened a little, and he seemed slightly hesitant, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach flutter. “Maybe a couple of stars on my cheeks? And… maybe a small cat on my forehead?”

You stifled a laugh at his request, realizing that behind his composed demeanor, he had a playful side you hadn’t seen before. “A star and a cat. Got it,” you whispered, dipping your brush into white paint. You reached out carefully to steady his face, tilting it slightly toward the light. Your fingers lightly touched his cheek, and you couldn’t ignore the spark that jolted through you at the contact.

Jungwon closed his eyes briefly, letting out a small breath. You tried to ignore the slight flush you felt creeping up your neck, focusing on drawing a perfect star on his left cheek. You painted in silence, but every so often, he’d open his eyes and glance at you, making your heart race each time.

With one cheek finished, you moved to the other side. He leaned in closer, giving you the perfect angle. The space between you seemed to shrink with every second, the sounds of the bustling festival fading into a distant hum. You were hyper-aware of everything—the faint scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from him, and how your fingers gently brushed his skin. When you finished with the stars, you pulled back slightly to look at your work, meeting his gaze as you did.

“They look good,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

You swallowed, breaking eye contact to reach for a new brush and dip it in black paint. “Now for the cat,” you said, trying to stay calm. “Hold still.”

You carefully moved to part his hair at the center of his forehead. As your fingers brushed through his bangs, you froze, your eyes widening as you saw something strange—a small patch of his dark hair was shifting, lightening to a soft honey-blonde under your touch.

“Um… Jungwon,” you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you stared at the transformed lock of hair falling against his forehead. “Your hair…”

“What about it?” He turned to you with a hint of confusion, glancing up as if trying to catch a glimpse of the change. “Did I mess it up?”

You shook your head, the words tangling in your throat as disbelief washed over you. “It’s… it’s changing color.”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, then brushed his fingers through the area you’d touched. His movements stilled, the warmth in his expression fading, replaced by something deeper—something unreadable. The air thickened around you, a heavy silence filled with unspoken questions.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours as if trying to decode the truth hidden beneath your surprise.

You nodded slowly, your heart racing. “Yeah, I… I thought it was just the paint at first, but… it’s definitely not.”

The realization hung in the air, electric and palpable, igniting a spark of tension that sent shivers down your spine. Jungwon’s fingers gently traced the newly lightened strands of hair, his expression a mix of wonder and trepidation. You could feel your pulse quicken, an exhilarating rush flooding through you as you grasped the meaning behind this strange phenomenon.

Time seemed to stretch in that moment, each heartbeat echoing like a drum in your chest. Here he was, the boy you’d admired from afar, unexpectedly transformed before your eyes. Jungwon—the one who had unwittingly painted your world in vibrant colors, now literally changing right in front of you.

Suddenly, self-consciousness washed over you like a cold wave. You averted your gaze, stepping back instinctively. “I—I should go finish with the others. They’re probably waiting for me…” Your voice wavered, betraying the rush of emotions threatening to spill over.

Before you could dwell on it, a paint container wobbled on the edge of the table, knocking into your elbow. In your panic, you stumbled, sending brushes and colors sprawling over yourself. “Oh no!” you yelped, scrambling to clean up the mess.

“Y/N, wait!” Jungwon exclaimed, his eyes widening in surprise. He stepped closer, his hand closing around yours, halting your frantic movements. “Stop. Just breathe.”

His grip was steadying, grounding you amidst the chaos of your racing thoughts. “Let’s find somewhere quiet, okay? You need to clean up.” His voice held a calmness that contrasted sharply with the storm inside you.

You felt a rush of warmth at his concern, but your mind spun with confusion. “But… the booth—”

“Trust me,” he said, his gaze unwavering, a silent promise passing between you. “Just for a moment. Let’s talk.”

With a nod, you allowed him to guide you away from the festival’s noise, your heart racing not just from the moment, but from the undeniable connection building between you. The thrill of discovery was tempered by the anxiety of what it all meant, and yet, in Jungwon’s presence, you felt something shift—something new and exciting, just waiting to be explored.

He led you through a quieter section of the campus, where the walls were lined with colorful murals painted by students, the air filled with the faint scent of paint and creativity. The laughter and chatter from the festival faded into the background, replaced by the gentle rustle of leaves overhead and the distant sound of music drifting from the booths.

As you turned a corner, Jungwon paused, the air around you suddenly thick with anticipation. He glanced around, ensuring you were alone, then leaned against the cool brick wall, his posture relaxed yet focused. His gaze locked onto yours, intensity radiating from him. “My hair… it’s slowly turning blond. Isn’t this what soulmate marks are supposed to be like?”

His words hung in the air, electrifying the space between you. You felt the weight of the moment press down, your heart racing like a wild drum in your chest. “Right… your soulmate mark,” you stammered, the tremor in your voice betraying the chaos inside. “I didn’t want to say anything because I thought it might just be a coincidence, but now… it's all starting to make sense.”

Jungwon stepped closer, the seriousness in his expression deepening. “You mean you knew?” His voice was low, the edge of urgency evident. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The air crackled with tension, and you felt your pulse quicken. “I didn’t know it was you! I thought—” you cut yourself off, frustration bubbling within you. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward. You’ve been my crush longer than you’ve been a friend. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep things from being awkward with you, especially when my mark changed?”

Jungwon’s expression shifted, vulnerability breaking through his confidence. “Your mark... is it.… when did it change? Am I—was it before… or after we met?” His voice was tight, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

You took a deep breath, feeling the memories rush back. “The day you carried me to the nurse’s office, you idiot.”

He blinked, taken aback by your response. “Wait… that day? But I thought...”

His expression softened slightly, the intensity in his eyes shifting as he took a step closer. You held your breath as he knelt down, his fingers hovering over your soulmate mark. The moment felt electric, a mix of vulnerability and anticipation coursing through you.

“Can I…?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, giving him permission to touch it. As his fingers brushed against your skin, a shiver ran down your spine. Jungwon chuckled softly, the sound breaking some of the tension between you. “Can you believe this? It feels just like yesterday when I accidentally hit my crush with a soccer ball at her knees,” he said, shaking his head with a bemused smile. “The same crush I’ve wanted to approach since 10th grade but was always too afraid to mess up, especially with how she glares at boys.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the image of a younger Jungwon fumbling with his words as he tried to impress you suddenly vivid in your mind. “I didn’t mean to scare you off,” you admitted, your heart swelling with warmth. “I thought you were just… confident, you know?”

He shrugged, a hint of shyness creeping back into his demeanor. “I try to be. But it’s hard when you’re crushing on someone who’s out of your league.”

“Out of my league?” you repeated, incredulous. “Jungwon, you’re the captain of the soccer team! Everyone looks up to you.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I’m not nervous around you,” he replied, his gaze locking onto yours, sincerity pouring from his words. “It’s different with you. You make me want to be better.”

The air between you thickened with unspoken emotions, each heartbeat echoing the connection that had always been there, waiting to be acknowledged. You both stood on the edge of something monumental, the laughter of the festival fading away, leaving only the two of you and the promise of what lay ahead.

The next day, Jungwon strolled confidently down the hallway, his head of hair transformed into a stunning honeyed blonde that turned heads with every step. The shift was striking—bold, noticeable, and oddly fitting—making it seem as though he had always intended to embrace this change. Whispers and awestruck glances followed him like a gentle wave, yet beneath that cool exterior, you could see the spark of mischief in his eyes, especially when they met yours.

“Wow, he really went all out,” Arin murmured beside you, her voice a mix of surprise and admiration. “He must’ve bleached the whole thing. I didn’t think Jungwon had that in him.”

You nodded, trying to maintain your composure while your heart raced. “Yeah… surprising, isn’t it?” you replied, though a smile betrayed your nonchalance as you watched him navigate the crowd like he owned the place.

Unaware of the true significance of his transformation, your classmates continued their commentary. “Looks good on him, though,” one girl remarked, her tone infused with genuine admiration. “Like he was meant to have it all along.”

Jungwon seemed completely unfazed by the attention, wearing his new look with a blend of pride and ease, as if his blonde hair was a badge of honor that only you understood. It was a mark that connected the two of you in ways that no one else could fathom—an intimate secret wrapped in boldness.

As the hallway thinned out, he lingered by his locker, his casual demeanor slipping just a bit as he caught your gaze from across the hall. He lifted a hand, brushing back his hair with an effortless charm that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach—a subtle nod to the secret you shared.

You walked over, your heart pounding just a little faster than usual. “It suits you,” you said, keeping your voice low, the air between you thick with unspoken words.

His eyes softened, gratitude shimmering in their depths. “Good to know,” he murmured, his tone low but filled with warmth. “After all, it’s your fault it looks this good.”

A faint blush crept up your cheeks at his words, and before you could respond, he leaned in slightly, lowering his voice even more as he added, “And don’t worry. The secret’s safe.”

In that crowded hallway, with laughter and footsteps echoing around you, it felt like you and Jungwon were enveloped in your own little world. His blonde hair, like a silent vow, was a reminder of what only the two of you understood: a hidden connection, pulsing with promise and anticipation, waiting to be explored.

[kou3218]

The History of Lightcannon

Warning, this is very long so buckle up. (Also spoilers for Arcane)

For those wondering where this ship came from and how it's bloomed from something that was pretty niche into something nearly mainstream. It's an interesting journey. So let's dive in.

(Note - Updated post with more information on the history. It's actually older than I realized.)

Let's start with some context, Lightcannon is the name of the ship between two characters from the MOBA game, League of Legends. Officially launched in October 27, 2009.

Luxanna Crownguard (though she prefers Lux) from the kingdom of Demacia. She's a mage whose skilled in light magic. She became a playable champion on October 19th, 2010. She is literally the Light...

...To the Cannon known as Jinx (formally known as powder.) from the slump of Zaun. A psychopathic loose cannon whose also a uncertified genius when it comes to tinkering. She became a playable champion on October 10th, 2013.

Both residing in the world known as Runeterra.

Now you might be wondering, "How in the hell does a pretty blonde noble mage girl from a kingdom of knights get shipped with a blue haired psycho steampunk Harley Quinn knock off that's a continent away?" (Don't pretend Jinx wasn't made to cash in on the hype of Quinn. Riot is known for cashing in on trends.)

(edit 12/3/2024)

Well originally, I thought it was due to the Cosmetic Skins that League is known for releasing for it's champions. They usually have some fun special interactions with characters and even some lore. Creating AU's of sorts. Some are one shots, and others get expanded up into full on spinoffs with stories and their own expanded narrative.

In 2015 RIOT launched the Star Guardian set. Basically a Magical girl set for the characters: Lux, Jinx, Janna, Poppy, and Lulu. And this set is what many thought kicked off lightcannon. Myself included.

In the Star Guardian lore, they are childhood friends. With Lux being described as, "Cheerful, courageous, and just a bit clumsy. Lux shines the brightest among her Star Guardian team as its captain."

While Jinx is described as, "The cynical teen rebelled, refusing to treat her powers as anything more than a plaything to serve her own interests. While Jinx scoffs at protecting a world she doesn’t trust, she does believe in her childhood friend Lux—and if someone could see into the depths of Jinx’s heart, they’d see a furious, burning need to keep those she holds dear out of harm’s way, at any cost."

If you are at all familiar with Magical Girl shows, you can see how this kicked it off. There is always an undercurrent of Yuri in ever MG series. For this, the classic, Good Girl x Bad Girl with a heart of gold. This even got it's own cinematic. With plenty of shots of Lux and Jinx Longing for each other.

With some rather fun interactions in game.

And a classic scene from one of the stories

However, it was pointed out to me by @questionablecuttlefish there were people before the star guardians that were already shipping them together as for back as 2014!

Barely 3 months after Jinx was released. The first lightcannon fanfictions started to appear. Which is kind of crazy!

This also pre-dates ekko - who became playable on May 29th, 2015!

Now at the time, Jinx didn't have much lore. She was just the crazy boom girl, and it was hinted at that she had a history with Vi and Warwick. (Too be fair, VI's lore was kind of all over the place and she was mainly "Police Brutality, LoL.) So she was kind of malleable.

Lux however had a lot of lore. She was born into a high standing Noble family that is sworn to protect the king. Hence the name Crownguard. She is depicted as a bright, cheerful, and optimistic character. She's also related to the champion Garen, her older brother. However, she is a mage and magic is hated in her country of Demacia. So, she has to hide who she really is. Garen does know and accepts her. There are also a number of stories where she has done very questionable things. One of her decisions led to her trusting the wrong man, Sylas. A criminal mage that tricked her into helping him escape. Which ended up triggering a mage rebellion, which led to a lot of people dying. (And her OG lore, she operated as a spy. Which some people have played with.)

Sounds familiar right?

So a big part of what drew these two together was the potential these two could have if they met. The idea that Lux finds someone who encourages her to be herself. To let her magic free and accept all of her. Which could also apply to Jinx as well. The idea that they could be who they truly are with each other. And still drawing a bit from the Star Guardians down the line with the whole Good Girl x Bad Girl.

Again, this was still pretty niche. Very much a crackship, but people were pretty creative in what they thought of.

Then came a big shot in the arm for the ship, the Cinematic trailer for Wildrift.

This trailer had jinx hoping around runeterra and grabbing people to join her team to fight. The first person she grabs in Lux, whose bored and wants something exciting to do. And here comes this manic pixie dream girl who pops out of nowhere, jumps in her laps, takes a selfie, and then pulls her into a portal to fight a giant monster like she wanted. Plus the fact that Lux can create pretty shiny lights and massive magical explosions doesn't hurt either. With a lot of the promo stuff having them act like friends helped to fuel it further.

And then, a year after this, Arcane launched!

This not only gave Vi more depth, but also Jinx (Originally named powder). She went from, "lol, random, psycho murder, boom girl." To an incredibly tragic character who who just want to hug and tell her everything is alright.

And it wasn't that we wanted Lux to fix Jinx, we wanted them to help each other. And with the ending of season 2, the viability of Lux and Jinx actually meeting skyrocketed even further. With Jinx faking her death and sneaking onto an airship that was seen over open water.

Possibly to Demacia to get a fresh start? Not impossible. Maybe even be her guiding light.

Additionally between season 1 and 2 or arcane. There was this fun little Chinese Animated web series called, Valoran Town. It didn't have too much an impact on the ship, but was still a bit more fuel for it.

Basically, a slice of life series about the champions living in a small town. The main story focusing on Lux as she runs away from home trying to live free and independently from her overbearing Brother Garen. Her best friend and now roommate in the series is Jinx! Since a lot of promo material for wildrift did have them acting like friends, this felt like they were kind of leaned into that angle. Which worked pretty well.

Each episode is about 5 minutes long, but it's just super cute and fun. Also a nice pallet cleanser from the heart ache of arcane.

This person was kind enough to upload and subtitle all 12 episodes.

Give it a watch, it's free. (Just turn on closed captions.)

So, yeah. That's the history of lightcannon. We love it for many reasons, but for me. It's the potential they could have. It's very much a crackship, but I will sail it everyday. Hope you learned something.

And some funny things to think about.

Lightcannon and Caitvi/Piltover's finest means that Jinx and Vi have the same taste in women. Upper class femme.

But it also means the Crownguard sibling also have the same taste in women. Or, at the very least, have a kink for criminals/killers.

Garen with the Noxian assassin Katarina.

Lux with Sylans and Jinx.

Which would also make Lux and Jinx Bisexual too, so represent.

Yes, I support timebomb too. Arcane Season 2 episode 7 is beautiful. I see why people ship Ekko and Jinx together. I'm a multi-shipper. You can do that. They both love Jinx, and she deserves all the love.

[damianbugs]

top 5 bruce and jason father-son moments?

5. DETECTIVE COMICS (1937) #596

this one is kind of nothingburger to others but it's everything to ME because i read into nothingburger things all the time. throughout bruce and jason's run as batman and robin a huge thing of notice is that in costume jason rarely ever calls bruce anything other than batman. take that as you will, secret identity shenanigans aside. but then:

this is followed by bruce busting out of the trap, saving them both AND calling him jay. it moves me everytime i read it.

4. BATMAN URBAN LEGENDS (2021)

okay im going to cheat a bit and include 2 (technically 3) moments here but they're from the same story so... i have many (MANY) issues with the cheer story but the part where jason calls out to bruce during a desperate situation, bruce shows up and jason seems genuinely surpised? FLOORED.

AND THEN. AND THEN. not only is jason's deepest joy bruce killing the joker and being a family, but bruce's deepest joy (that almost drove him mad enough to kill someone, btw) is ALSO KILLING THE JOKER AND RECONCILING WITH JASON. like goodbye. terrible awful plot with life ending revelations.

3. DETECTIVE COMICS (1937) #542

nocturna arc in general is probably one of the best jaybin arcs ever. but this moment right here...

i dont even need to add any thoughts just read this shit and really focus on the "i wouldn't shed a single tear if it [his wealth] all vanished [...] after they came and took jason away from me, i broke down and wept." "money is fine gentlemen, but it isnt real. right now only jason is real." and if it wasn't already ruining my life, the batsignal comes on while bruce is working with his lawyers to gain custody of jason again and he flat out refuses to leave because this is more important.

2. ROBIN 80TH ANNIVERSARY 100 PAGE SUPER SPECTACULAR: MORE TIME (2020)

i can't even formulate any words for this one it's just. world ending. i would add the entire thing if i could. jason "they could never make me hate bruce wayne" todd.

1. BATMAN: UNDER THE RED HOOD (2011)

in first place to the surpise of no one, i imagine. the comic entirely, yes, but specifically:

they spend literally every moment before this fighting. there is no trust. not a single moment of wavering doubt. UNTIL THIS. without evening thinking, jason takes up the role as robin and backs up batman by performing a move they've done for YEARS. jason jumps towards him and for a moment, doesn't doubt that bruce understands, and won't drop him. bruce later goes on to say that this particular move leaves his back exposed, which is where robin will usually be standing (since batman will act as a shield for the explosives he's thrown) (THAT ITSELF IS INSANE TO ME BUT WHATEVER) and for a moment wonders if red hood will take the opportunity to stab him in the back.

he doesn't.

[gingernut1314]

Head On ch. 8

Summary: You and your friends go to see Viktor off to school when you all are met with a horrid sight. All you want is to get everyone out safely and for Silco back at your side.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, young Felicia, young Connol, baby Vi, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, pre-teen Viktor, canon typical violence, riots, guns/blood, friend reunions, confessing feelings, reader has water manipulation, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 7.6K

Tag List: @miffysoo , @teriyakiitae , @locinne , @equaniimouxx , @cipher-nine

@shi-toshi , @sebastianlover

A/N: Okay okay, 1) I wanted to just quickly say THANK YOU to everyone whose taken the time to read this story and whose let me know you've been enjoying it!! It really does mean so much to me and keeps me going!! 2) sorry for the long ass word count. I can't help myself. I am a long word count girly who has been trying her hand at short word counts but will always go back to running her mouth in her stories lol 3) sorryyy for the time skip again. It's important to me at least to have it so that we can age up some younger characters anddd to keep things moved towards more fun events. It doesn't truly impair the story too much I feel. And 4) I hope you all enjoy!! Sending much love!!

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Three years later

“Oh and off she goes.” Felicia cheerfully spoke as Violet wandered off towards a bit of blue chalk lying on the side of the street faster than you believed her small legs should be able to take her. Felicia rushed after her, grabbing her toddler up in her arms just as Vi had snagged the bit of chalk. 

Vi gave an angered noise that sounded like some roaring beast at her feet leaving the ground. The kid thrashed about in her mom’s arms, kicking and throwing punches as if she could fight her way out. Felicia laughed through it all.

“Okay, okay.” Felicia placed a smacking kiss on her kid’s round, dirt-smudged cheek before quickly pulling her face out of the way of another small, chubby little fist. “Geez. One of these days you’re gonna knock someone's tooth out.” She huffed, placing Vi back onto the ground.

“No, no, mommy.” Vi humphed, wagging a finger like she was the boss. Felicia merely laughed again, ruffling her head of pink hair. 

“That kid needs a leash,” Sevika grumbled from where she walked beside you, pulling her cigarette from her lips.

“She’s just explori--oh and there she goes again.” Felicia booked it after Vi as she made to start writing on some passing man’s pants with the chalk still clutched in her fist. 

“Gods. Guppy, you ever catch me daydreaming about shit like having a kid, I give you full permission to smash a rock over my head.” Sevika took a long drag from her smoke after she spoke. 

“Only if you agree to do the same for me.” You smirked. Sevika held her first out and you were quick to bump your own against it. She pulled her cigarette from her lips and exhaled the remaining smoke from her lungs. 

“Deal.” 

“You two are so negative,” Nadia spoke from where she walked just before you two, her eyes nervously scanning over her own kid, now nearly on the cusp of teenage-hood. “Vi is just a very spirited child.” And just as Nadia finished, Vi gave another screeching wail as Felicia lugged her back over to you all. 

“Got her!” Felicia cheered as Violet’s eyes began to fill with frustrated tears. 

“How are you feeling, little angel?” Nadia asked Viktor who she hadn’t taken her eyes off once since they all started the walk towards the bridge. 

And she was nervous for good reason. She and Nikolai, after years and years of hard work and living off scraps, had saved up enough money to send Viktor to school in Piltover. 

And not just any school. The best school money could buy. A school that would further feed Viktor’s curiosity and need to experiment as well as give him the connections needed so he could, after he graduated, attend Piltover Academy. 

But for him to attend this school and become something over there, he had to stay there and you knew it was keeping everything within Nadia not to break down and forget about all of it. 

“The same way I felt when you asked me a minute and thirty seconds ago,” Viktor responded, voice full of sass he’d been using more and more lately. 

“Oh.” Nadia gave a weak smile. “Excited then, yes?” She asked, reaching a gentle hand out to run her fingers through his head of wild hair to try and smooth it back down. Violet gave another screeching wail just as Viktor swatted his mother’s hand away. 

“Silly goose,” Felicia spoke as Nadia pulled from her son, fingers beginning to fiddle and pick at each other. 

“Actually. Just shoot me.” Sevika grumbled under her breath to you as she observed the exchanges between both mothers and their kids.

“Only if you do the same.” Sevika chuckled heartily at your response. “Dee, you said Nikolai’s already over there?” You questioned, trying to quickly keep Nadia’s mind off her son's denial of affection. Nadia blinked her burnt gold eyes at you, that weak smile still plastered to her face. 

“Yes. Yes, he went last night to deliver a sculpture to a client. We have a friend he stayed the night with. He should already be on the other side of the bridge and to meet Viktor and bring--” Her voice faltered a bit as she gazed back at her son who confidently limped ahead, looking all too ready for this next step in life. “Bring him to school. Help him settle in.” 

“Good.” You quickened your pace a bit to be able to stand beside your friend. Your first friend. One you’d met as soon as she and her family had made it to the Lanes after fleeing their home. She had been just as sweet and kind back then as she was now, but she too held that same sass her son now used. You placed a hand on Nadia’s shoulder. 

“Viktor’ll do good. You know that. He’s smart.” Nadia nodded, grabbing hold of your hand tightly and giving you a heavy, grateful-filled look. “We’re here for you…even when Sevika’s a Miss. Dark and Gloomy and Felicia wrangling some feral creature.” Nadia gave an equally as weak huffed laugh. 

“Watch. My little creature is gonna grow up and become a famous cage fighter. Hand you all your asses while she’s at it.” Felicia grinned your way, Vi all but hanging upside down as Felicia struggled to keep a hold of her wrestling daughter. 

Felicia and Connol, since having Vi, decided Felicia could stop working the mines till Vi was old enough to stay home by herself. It made it so that Connol was rarely home and Felicia feeling a bit more lonely.

So, Felicia found work at your job. Your boss, having a soft spot for mothers and their little ankle biters, gave Felicia temporary work in her office where she could bring Violet while she helped with paperwork. 

It’s why Felicia was able to come with you all this morning to see Viktor off. You all would make sure he got across the bridge safe and sound before heading to the diner-shop to start the work day. 

After work, your group decided to hold a mock family dinner for Nadia and Nikolai to try and help keep their minds off their son living in a city that would try to swallow him whole every chance it got. 

You were trying not to think too hard about your whole group in one place like that. Talking and eating and drinking together, when such festivities had grown less and less frequent. 

And it was all thanks to you and Silco of course. 

Your fight three years ago had left you both fighting for months. Months that neared on a whole year before Vander stepped in and told you two to knock it off. That you needed to at least act civil when around the whole group, especially since Vi had been born. 

It had stopped the fighting but had left you two distant. Hardly a word spoke to each other for a year afterward.

The problem was you both were stubborn. Too proud to admit the fight was over nothing. Too proud to just sit down and talk it over like adults. 

You still hardly spoke a word to each other a year after that one, though now you two could be alone together and not have it turn into a verbal battle. 

You missed him. 

It was something you had been thinking about more and more. 

You missed exploring after work with him. Missed long talks while sharing a cigarette. Missed being able to sit next to him in silence, shoulders and thighs pressed together. Being able to sit there and not have the air be full of tension. 

You missed your friend. 

You cursed yourself out daily for having had a hand in losing his close friendship all because you had been scared and ran away. You should have just stayed in that cave and told him what you were thinking--how you were feeling. 

But that chance passed you by and you were stuck in this tension-filled now. 

Shouting pulled you from your thoughts. 

You thought at first it was Violet again, but it was too loud--too many different shouts. And when you looked to the little girl, you found she had calmed in her mom's arms, watching as a pair of people rushed past your group towards the bridge.

“Oh no.” Nadia gasped as you all rounded the corner, finding the mouth of the bridge a cluster of people shouting and screaming at the enforcers standing there, trying to keep them back. 

You didn’t have to peer too hard past everyone to see a large, chain fence had been put up, blocking anyone from going in. 

Nadia pulled from your touch and grabbed hold of her son, who didn’t shoo her away this time. 

“What the fuck.” Sevika hissed, plucking her cigarette from her lips and flicking it to the ground. “No chance in hell they’ve blocked us out.” 

But none of you would ever put it past them. They’d done it before a long while ago, back when Vander’s dad was your age and The Gray ran more rabid in the streets. 

“Do you know what happened?” Felicia asked the next person who tried to rush by. They took a small second to look back at you all, eyes shifting to look at Vi who was now greeting them with round after round of hi.

“They raised the toll. Five hundred.” You felt your blood run cold. The old toll had been hard enough to pay and now this? 

Five hundred? 

That was more than most made in a week’s worth of work. 

“And even if you can pay, they’re askin’ thousands of questions just to find any reason to not let you through. Not unless you have proof.” And off they rushed into the crowd, leaving you and your group fuming.

“Fuck this--Vander’s gotta give in after hearing this shit.” Sevika gruffed and you agreed. 

Vander would agree to start fighting back like you and the others had been wanting. He’d held you all back for years saying nothing that had happened was worth going to war for. 

But this was worth it. 

They were cutting you all off from the rest of the world like one might do to a decaying limb. 

Sevika made to march back through the fissures to find Vander, but something caught her eye.

She froze. 

You froze. 

“Where the hell is Nadia?” Felicia asked as Vi became fussy messing in her arms all over again. Your chest tightened as you scanned over the rioting crowd. Tightened painfully when you caught a flash of ruddy red hair disappearing within it. 

You rushed for her, leaving Sevika to curse and all but command Felicia to stay put as she ran after you. You didn’t slow as she called your name. Didn’t slow as you pushed and shoved through the crowd, hissing and snapping harshly at any who refused to move. 

Sevika shoved those who refused away with one arm easily, having caught up to you. The few that had all but glued their feet to the ground took one look at your menacing friend and moved before you could even get to them. 

“--see. Himerdinger himself selected my son to attend Piltover Preparatory School.” You heard Nadia’s accented voice before you saw her, but when you pushed through the last few bodies, you spotted her. She was shoving a gold detailed letter into the hands of an enforcer by a door closest to the tollhouse. It was the acceptance letter Viktor had received. 

The enforcers, who you recognized immediately to be Rufus, who should have retired years ago, nodded on a heavy sigh. 

“Five hundred.” He handed the letter back to Nadia who was quick to give it to Viktor, who was pulling lightly at the skirt of her dress shaking his head, looking like a small kid again. 

“We cannot affor--” Nadia cut him off with a fierce gaze. 

“You are going to that school.” She demanded, digging into her pockets for a small pouch full of coins. She fished out the correct amount and handed it to Rufus who nodded to another enforcer standing guard by the door to unlock it. 

“Nadia--” You called just as an enforcer stepped before you, keeping you back. You bared your teeth at him. “Move it.” But he only continued to shove you back, just as more enforcers came to shove others back. 

“You are going to work hard. And it will be hard, but you will do good things. Great things for this world.” You heard Nadia continue. You caught a glance at her, finding her on her knees before her son, holding his tear-streaked face and looking so proud. “Do not let them snuff out your spark. I love you, my little angel. Always remember that.” And you were shoved away just as she wrapped her son up in her arms for what might be the last time. 

You hit Sevika’s solid body, but she held you steady. She flashed you a smirk, gray eyes steady and full of that burning anger you all held before she shoved the enforcer back, his armor rattling violently as he fell to his ass. 

You used the opening to rush over the fallen officer toward Nadia, who was watching Viktor walk through the gate door, which slammed shut and locked behind him. He cast his mom one last look, who steadied him with an encouraging nod. You grabbed her arm as the enforcer Sevika knocked over shouted at you. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” You asked, trying not to let your words bite seeing your friend’s eyes had turned all red and glossy. “You shouldn’t have paid that goddamn toll.”

“It is only money.” She started, almost fighting against you as you tried to pull her away from the fence. Her burnt gold eyes, which welled over onto her flushed cheeks, kept track of her son the whole time. “I would do anything for him. Anything.” 

Shouting grew more aggressive behind you. A sound that normally would have thrilled you, but with Nadia still in the heart of it all, it was dreadful. 

She couldn’t fight. Didn’t know how and could hardly pick a fish-filled crate up without help. She would only get caught in the crossfire of a fight like this. 

“Nadia--Nadia we have to go.” You insisted, tugging sharply at her arm. She allowed you to pull her closer. 

You turned and--

Boom. 

The sound echoed sharply through the air. 

The sound of a gunshot. 

People screamed and began to run around like chickens who’d had their heads cut off. You spotted the person who Felicia had stopped to question laying face first on the ground, red pooling beneath them. 

The enforcers who had fired looked just as terrified as everyone else, his gun shaking in his hands.

Rufus shoved past you both shouting orders at him and the others to not fire. 

Another gunshot sounded further down the line and that was when you held Nadia tight and sprinted toward Sevika. Sevika grabbed hold of your own arm and began dragging you back toward Felicia just as you were dragging Nadia. 

Another gunshot roared through the air. 

And then another. 

Nadia tripped, startled scream on her lips. You held her tight and continued to pull her along. 

You all just needed to get away. Far away from the enforcers and their need to quince their bloodthirst. 

Felicia was holding a screaming Vi tight to her chest, feet already moving as soon as she spotted you all. 

“That way. That way!” Sevika shouted to Felicia who turned the corner she was pointing at sharply. 

“The fucking brothels?!” Felicia shouted back. 

“Where the fuck else!” Sevika hissed.

“I can’t bring my kid in there!” Felicia called as Sevika wound the corner after her.

“Cover her eyes!” 

“I can’t--” Nadia called your name on a winded breath, “I can’t--” Her pace began to slow. 

“Just a little further, okay, and then we can sto--” But you felt Nadia drop to her knees just as you two turned the corner. Her weight growing so heavy it nearly pulled you down with her. 

A painful start hissed through your body when you found her on the ground, clutching at her shoulder and looking pale. Too pale even for her. 

Red splattered on her shaking fingertips. Red that had dripped here and there on the ground leading directly to your friend.

Rock bit into your knees as you rushed for her, flipping her onto her back to find the front of her dress soaked in blood. 

“Did--did he get across?” She sputtered, fear high in her eyes. Pain screwed her face up, tears never ceasing their fall from her eyes. 

“Sevika!” You screamed, grabbing for Nadia’s hand to pull it from her shoulder. She gave a scream that tore at your chest and made you hesitate. “It’s--it’s just your shoulder.” You tried to smooth, pressing your palm against the bleeding wound that only made her pain grow. “It’s fine--Sevika!” 

Water was in the blood. 

Water was yours to command yet blood never wanted to behave as nicely as water. Not even as nicely as alcohol which held more than less water in it than blood did. 

You’d never been able to control it. Never been able to slow the flow of it even from something as small as a paper cut. 

You tried anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on the water flowing within her blood. Willed it, begged it to halt just long enough for someone to come to patch her up.

Sevika cursed sharply when she came to your side but you kept focusing on your task. Kept pushing your power harder and harder even when it began to make your head spin. 

“V-Viktor--” Nadia gave a small sob. “Did--get--” Another sob that burned at your eyes. “Please.” 

“He did. He got across.” Your voice came out too wobbly. Too weak. 

“We gotta get her out of here.” Sevika’s voice sounded, her strong hands gently starting to pull you away. 

You let her, but kept your focus on your task. On wrangling her blood with your magic and pushing it back as if trying to reverse the flow of some powerful river. 

Nadia gave a brokenly pained cry as Sevika picked her up as gently as she could. You followed, vision beginning to dot the longer you pushed your magic to work on such a hard task. 

Black fuzzed through your eyes and the next thing you knew you were standing inside a dimly lit brothel. 

Black fuzzed at your eyes as you watched Sevika lay Nadia on a pillow-covered bed, an older Yordle assessing the damage. She turned her eyes onto Sevika looking all too grim.

Black fuzzed at your eyes and Vi’s screaming rang through your ears, loud and piercing. A hand grabbed your shoulder and you pushed it quickly off of you. 

Your magic snapped back into your body so hard it made you stumble backward out of the room you had been led into. You tried to summon it back but that fuzz turned into dull buzzing in your ears. Made your breath heavy and tight in your lungs. Made your stomach twist and your mouth fill with hot saliva like you might throw up. 

A few of the employees of the brothel you all barged into peeked their heads out of their rooms, eyes wide and some even filled with tears. They must have heard about what happened at the bridge. Must have seen you all rush in and known what had happened as soon as they spotted Nadia--Nadia--

Your stomach rolled just as your heart twisted like some old rag and your eyes blurred. 

You blinked and you were outside. 

Blinked and you were down the street. 

Blinked and you were looking at your shaking hands. 

Blood. Nadia’s blood. 

Oh gods oh gods. 

Gods. 

Where the fuck was Janna? 

Where was she? 

She was supposed to be the Lanes’ guardian spirit or some shit. Supposed to protect you all. Keep shit like this from happening to you all. 

And--and she’d just left. 

Left you all to suffer and die by the hands of Piltover who would never stop trying to take, take, take. They would take till their bellies were round and full and still their hunger would not be sated. 

Hands grabbed your arm, tugging at you. You shove whoever it was away. A shove that only made the person grab you tighter. 

You blinked and found it was an enforcer. Two. One shouted down the way for backup.

Your head spun. 

The effort from trying to use your powers on something as hard as blood made it hard to re-focus--to breathe. 

Before you could try to fight them off, a blur of red and gray flashed past you, attacking the enforcers for you. 

The sound of a blade zinging free and the gurgled sounds of a dying breath filled your ears as you staggered back, trying desperately to get yourself together. More screams. More sounds of death and soon someone was before you. Someone who was calling your name sharply. 

You tensed a bit when hands grabbed hold of your face, body readying to fight, but the feel of those hands. Of chilled, calloused, and scarred skin gave you pause. Had you blink and blink that fog away till you found Silco’s face there. 

He looked worried. Really worried. 

Worried for you. 

Only you. 

“Hey--hey are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Fingers smooth over your skin, pulling your face closer and closer. You blinked again, eyes filling with liquid fire as you grabbed desperately for his hands. Hands that continued to hold you tight, to hold you so close you felt his forehead brush against yours. 

Out of all the touches and almost touches that had happened between you two your whole lives, this was the one you craved most. One you pressed into. One that had those tears you fought back rolling down your cheeks and over her fingers in hot streams. 

“Tell me--what happened? I heard about the bridge and--”

“Nadia--” Weak. Your voice sounded so weak in your ear and, even though you typically would have cringed at such weakness being shown, you didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Not when your friend could be dying. Not in front of Silco. “She’s--” 

Silco pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around your body tightly and you just crumbled. Just completely broke down--snot and all. Sobs shook your body so violently you were sure they were shaking through Silco as well. 

But Silco didn’t pull away. Only held you tighter, like he might try to press you into him. Only smoothed his hands over your back and pressed his cheek against your head, keeping you almost completely surrounded by him.

“Silco!” It was Vander’s voice and Vander’s footfalls that were growing closer and closer. “Where are the other girls?” He asked, worry high in his voice. 

“Where is Felicia? Vi?” Connol sounded even more worried than Vander. As he should. His whole life had been at the bridge. His whole life could have been taken away in one fell swoop. You grabbed two fist fulls of Silco’s leather jacket, holding on for dear life as you fought to reign back your chest-aching sobs. As Connol all but hissed your name, trying to frantically stir you from your breaking. 

“Don’t.” Silco hissed right back at him, a hand coming to hold the back of your head as if to keep you shielded from your friend. “I saw her come out from the entertainment district. I would guess they are all there.” Silco had hardly finished his words before someone, most likely Connol, rushed off. 

“It's not safe here. We need to get out of view.” It was Benzo’s voice that spoke, the man sure to have joined them without a second thought. Silco was silent as his fingertips brushed over the back of your neck. Seemed to be waiting for you and for whenever you were ready, no matter the danger that lurked through the streets. You wrestled yourself to move, pulling slowly from Silco’s hold as you tried to bite down your weakness.

Silco let his hands linger on you. Let his hand brush over your cheek and over your shoulder, seafoam eyes scanning you over, looking for everything and anything that might be a harm to you. 

He took hold of your hand firmly like he was refusing to let you go again. You were glad for it. Glad for his support, even when tension between you had grown choking. Tensions that, in that moment, seemed to be forgotten.

Vander’s face hardened when his eyes took in your upset nature. Benzo’s eyes grew sullen.

You never cried. You’d come close, but you never cried. Especially in front of others. 

It was something Silco and Vander both knew. Something that was hardening Vander against the cruel reality that someone could be hurt. Someone could be dead. 

Hardened into that anger. 

The wolf paced behind those gray eyes. 

Was growing stronger and stronger, ready to be let loose upon the world. 

Sevika was right. He would agree to start the revolution you all had dreamed of now. 

Start a war. 

“Who?” Vander asked. Your lip trembled. 

“Nadia. I--I don’t know--” Silco’s body pressed closer to yours in a silent telling that you could lean on him. That he would be there for you no matter what. 

Vander nodded, beginning to head off in the direction Connol had run, Benzo quick on his heel. 

“It’s not safe out here. Let's go.” It was a command. One you wanted to follow but your body locked up against. 

Go? Go back to that brothel Nadia was laying in? Go back to that place and see her dying?

Silco’s hand pulled from your own only for it to wrap around your waist, pressing you into his side. 

“I’m here. I’m here with you.” He didn’t promise that Nadia would be okay. He couldn’t promise that. No one could. Not when they didn’t know any true doctors. Not when, even if it was just a shot to her shoulder, could be fatal if left unattended for long. 

But he did promise he was there. 

That he wouldn’t leave your side, no matter what. 

And it was enough to get your body moving back towards the entertainment district. 

The typically busy street looked like it had been abandoned. Looked like it was closed down for good. 

You led them to the brothel everyone was hold up in, finding Connol and Felicia sitting just in the entrance on a nest of pillows, a small group of workers cooing at Vi who was going up to each and grabbing for any shiny jewelry or pretty hair piece they wore. 

One of them rushed past you three and was quick to lock the door. And bolt lock it. And shove a plank of wood across its frame. She was just as quick to rush to stand before you all, giving a small bow of her head before rushing back off towards the back rooms. 

“Any word about Nadia?” Vander asked Connol and Felicia. 

“I was asked to leave the room because this little troublemaker was very upset,” Felicia spoke, a small smile pulling to her lips as Vi huffed her mom's way. “Sevika’s with her…it’s been quiet.” 

Your throat tightened. 

Your eyes burned. 

Your stomach rolled.

She wasn’t okay. She was dying. Dead. Laying in some brothel she would have blushed furiously at just from a glance in its direction.

“Let’s sit.” Silco calmly spoke to you. Only you. You nodded and let him pull you along. 

“I--I’m sorry.” You all but heaved out past your thick throat. Silco sat down on another little nest of pillows, gently sitting you down next to him. He didn’t pull his hand away from your waist, even when he no longer needed to guide you around like some lost dog. 

“You’ve done nothing you need to apologize for.” He calmly spoke again. 

This was the closest you’d been to him in a long, long time. The longest he’s touched you in a long, long time. 

And gods you had missed it. Gods you cursed yourself for being so stupid and stubborn. 

You moved the slightest bit so that your thigh was pressed firmly against his. So that you could look up at his face and take in all his sharp, handsome features. Look into those seafoam eyes he was already watching you carefully with. 

“I shouldn’t have--” Silco cut you off with a small shake of his head, knowing where you were going with this.

“You don’t--”

“I don’t want to fight anymore. Please. Can we--please.” You begged on a breath so that only he might be able to hear. 

This wasn’t something you really wanted to be doing in front of your friends. In front of strangers and in the heart of a brothel but you needed to say it. Needed to stop your fighting before something happened to you or worse, something happened to him. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something horrible happened to him and you hadn’t at least tried to remedy it. 

Silco watched over your face for a long moment. A moment that only had your aching heart ache even more. 

Did he disagree? Did he not want to try and mend the hurts between you two? 

A small nod helped ease a bit of the ach in your chest. 

“I don’t want to fight either.” He breathed back, keeping his words just for you as you had for him. “I should be apologizing. The way I acted was immature and--”

“It was pretty childish.” Silco paused for a moment, slight surprise in his eyes at your teasing but you found the edge of his lips pull upward.

“I am in the middle of an apology here.” He huffed back. An amused huff. It made your lips tug at their corners. 

“Oh sorry. Go on.” You shifted a bit as if to get more comfortable. 

“You’re insufferable.” Silco shook his head at you. 

“Thank you.” You proudly said. Silco chuckled and you did the same, but your amusement faded out as pain spiked in your chest at everything that had happened. Your eyes scanned his face over once more, finding a bit of dirt smudged on his cheek from his work. They must have dropped everything and rushed from the mines when they heard what had happened.

Hesitantly, you brought your hand up to brush that bit of soot away and Silco didn’t shrug you away. He leaned into your touch, eyes almost fluttering closed at your skin on his. 

“I’m…I’m really terrified.” You breathed, eyes burning all over again. Silco nodded, cupping your hand within his, holding it against his cheek. 

“I know.” 

“What if…” Your voice broke and your lips trembled. “What if she dies? I’m…she was the first person to show me kindness and--” Your voice failed you then.

“Then…we’ll deal with it. Together. Head on. Just like we always do.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in further comfort. A comfort you anchored yourself to. Let your eyes flutter closed and just breathe it in. 

Even when he hadn’t showered, he still managed to smell fresh. Like mist. Like a calm lake. 

His forehead pressed firmly against yours once more. You weren’t entirely sure who had moved closer, whether that be you or Silco, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he was close to you again. Was telling you silently that he still cared for you. That he would always care for you and you silently told him the same. 

“Just because your friend was bleeding out all over my establishment doesn't mean you can fondle each other here without paying.” A rasping voice spoke, spooking you and Silco from the tender moment you had been sharing. Spooked you two so bad you pulled apart, finding the older Yordle walking into the center of the entrance room. 

The workers who had been cooing and playing cheerfully with Violet were quick to their feet at the Yordle's appearance. They rushed off, bowing their heads at you and your friends, and the Yordle before rushing back towards their rooms. She only shook her head at them.

“We weren’t--it wasn’t like that.” Silco started pink dusting over his cheeks in a way that had Felicia chuckle knowingly and you feeling all flustered as well. Benzo wasn’t as discrete with showing his amusement, all but bellowing out a laugh that nearly had him folding in half.

The Yordle took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the heavy smoke in a tight stream toward the ceiling a few moments later. 

“Boy, I work in a den of lust and love. I’ve seen it all and know what’s what.” Silco’s blush only grew deeper, his eyes glancing your way in his embarrassment of being singled out. 

And despite your own embarrassment, you could help the small chuckle that pfffted from your lips. One that only had that blush deepened, but tugged that easy smile you adored to his lips.

“How is she?” Vander cut in before anything else could be said. The Yordle leveled him with a look. 

“Babette.” Vander’s brows furrowed in slight confusion. 

“Uh--what---”

“My name is Babette.” Vander blinked, looking a bit lost for words. 

“Uh--Vander.” Babette nodded her head slowly, taking another long drag from her cigarette. 

“I know. People talk.” Vander gave a small exhale of breath just as she gave a release of smoke. 

“Babette,” Vander started, “How is our friend?”

“You’re lucky this is the place you barged into. I’ve been doing this job a long time now. Seen it all. Had to learn to patch up bullet and knife wounds alike. People think just because they are paying they can do whatever they wish. No manners.” Babette mused on a shake of her head, making you nervous all over again. “She’ll live.” You breathed a shuddering sigh in relief, Silco’s hand giving yours a squeeze. “But she’s weak. Will be weak for a long while. Such a small thing, that one.” 

You were quick to your feet, Silco following suit. “Thank you. What--how much do you want?” You asked. 

Between the six of you in the room now, you could probably scrooge up…seven…eight coins. Sevike would try to horde whatever she had on her, but she would add in another three or four coins. Probably only bronze…none of you would be carrying around any gold. 

“You couldn’t afford it, sweetness.” Babette purred, making you feel all flustered all over again. “All I want in return is for you to take a stand for us.” Babette’s eyes found Vander’s again. Found him and settled him with a hard, burning stare. Vander nodded at her.

You saw the wolf pace and pace, mawl dripping in hungry justice. 

“Thank you.” Babette gave a wave of her hand as she took another drag of her cigarette. 

You started for the backrooms, Silco still having yet to take his hand out of your and you found you could only be grateful for his continued support. More than grateful. 

Sevika leaned against the wall next to the door Nadia was behind, already watching you two walk towards her. “She’s sleeping.” Sevika huffed, eyes glancing down the hall to where more workers were peeking their heads out of their doors. They disappeared under her gaze, all except one who winked her way before popping back into her room. Sevika gave a smirk at this. “We gonna break their enforcers' skulls?” She asked, her gaze darkening as she looked at Silco. 

“More than break,” Silco spoke coolly.

“And if Vander chickens out again?” Sevika asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Would that make any difference now?” Sevika scoffed. 

“Nah.” 

“Good.” You…found you didn’t like this. Like this…this almost behind closed-door talk. Like Vander would give up on fighting for his friends. Like Vander would give up fighting for everyone. For freedom. 

He wouldn’t. It wouldn’t come to that.

But as you pulled out of Silco’s grip and made it into the room Nadia slept in, finding her looking all too weak, you almost didn’t believe your own thoughts. 

Part if you believed Vander would back out, if under the right circumstances. 

And Silco…you knew he never would. 

He would die before he gave up hope on the future of Zuan.

And you would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t scare you. 

Your whole group made the journey from the entertainment district an hour later to safely bring Nadia back home, which was a tiny, run-down hole in the wall squished between and under other-like homes. It was a mess of all sorts of art and science supplies and half-finished projects. The space was cut roughly in half by a hung curtain, hand painted by Nadia with various swirling designs, to keep their makeshift bedroom separate.

Felicia and Connol, after double-checking to make sure Nadia would be alright, had headed home, their daughter having turned into a sleep-needing beast in Connol’s arms.

Sevika rummaged through Nadia’s small kitchen now, looking for any sort of alcohol she could get her hands on. When she started to shout back to Nadia about it, even when the woman was definitely not supposed to be roused in such a way, you excused yourself outside to find Silco. 

You found him sitting on a pile of crates and barrels near Nadia’s home, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers. Vander and Benzo had been out here a few minutes ago, standing beside him. You assumed they must have left, whether that be back to work or to The Last Drop. 

You weren’t sure and you didn’t entirely care in that moment, not when Silco's seafoam eyes found you before the door had even swung shut behind you. 

You made your way down the ramp Nikolai had built Viktor over top of the original steps there to make it just a little easier for his son to get home before you came to a stop a little ways before Silco. 

You held his gaze as he ran his hand through his hair, which he had allowed out of its usual bun to hang loosely around his shoulders in gentle waves. 

He held your gaze right back, offering his cigarette out to you. You carefully took it, only for him to grab hold of your wrist and yank you closer. Your heart spiked in your chest and began to beat erratically against your rips at the sudden movement. 

Neither pair of eyes left the other for a long moment. Neither of you moved. Neither of you wanted to move. Not when you were so close again. Not when you truly wanted to be even closer.

“How is she holding up?” Silco asked and you begged your heart to calm its wildness. 

“As fine as someone who's just been shot and sent their son off to live in the belly of the beast.” You murmured, pulling a nod from Silco.

“Alive. That’s what matters most. We’ll figure everything out. Head on.” He moved his legs so that they hung over the sides of the crate he was sitting on. So that his knees were on either side of your legs, brushing against them gently. 

“Together.” You agreed.

“Together.” He repeated, eyes dipping to glance at your lips. You moved closer now that he had created space for such a thing, the front of your thighs pressing into the edge of the crate and his thighs laying against them comfortably. You’re own eyes dipped almost greedily to look at his own lips. Lips you thought about too often…no--no, maybe didn’t think about them enough. 

“Thank you….for being there for me.” Silco gave your wrist still in his grip a gentle squeeze.

“No need for all that. I will always be there for you when you need me.” You felt warm ash from the cigarette you held fall over your fingers, but you dared not pull away from him. Not when you’d been away from him for so long. Not when you had missed his close friendship so dearly.

A long silence filled the space between you two. A silence that was familiar--warm, not the foully tense thing it had been for one too many years. 

“Would…” You started, your heart beginning to beat loudly in your chest again. Fear, anxiety, and flusteredness all tumbling about within it like some riptide. 

“Would…?” Silco questioned, eyes ever watchful yet so--so soft. A softness only you had never been allowed to see. A softness you had realized maybe too late was only ever for you. 

You hoped it wasn’t too late. 

You prayed it. 

“Would you…would you like to pretend that we’re back at my pool?” You spoke on a voice smaller than a whisper. A voice that was anything but full of all the nerves rolling about in you. 

Silco’s eyes widened the smallest bit at your question, his lips parting in the same smallness to show you a small flash of his chipped front teeth you loved to see. 

“What--but…I thought you didn’t want us to fight any longer?” He whispered back. 

“I don’t but…I was scared.” Silco’s brows furrowed in slight question. 

“Scared? Of--me?” 

“I--Felicia talked to me…after.” Silco nodded in understanding. After your fight in The Last Drop. He’d seen her rush after you. “She told me--well she said I should tell you why I ran away.” 

“Because you thought I was going to hurt you?” You gave a small huff through your nose as you brushed a bit of his dark hair behind his ear. An action that had that delicate blush spreading over his cheeks all over again. 

“Silco you could have anyone. You’ve had anyone. I just--I don’t want to be just anyone to you because…you’re not just anyone to me.” You rested your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb gently over his flushed skin.

“Anyone--” He said your name just as softly as he looked at you, “You aren’t just anyone to me. You’ve--you’ve never been just anyone to me. Why do…” He seemed to grow nervous then, eyes drooping slightly away from your own. “Why do you think I waited so long to…to try to kiss you.” Even though the last part was whispered, you heard it nonetheless. He shook his head slightly. “You are--are everything to me and I’m sorry you felt like you were anything less.” 

You moved your hand gently along his sharp cheek to find his chin, lifting it so that you might see those seafoam eyes of his you adored. Eyes that shone bright with such--such admiration for you in them. A look that had you forgetting all about the cigarette in your other hand. 

That horrid, nagging voice clawed at the back of your mind as it always did and always would. A voice that shouted at you all the things that could happen if you let yourself believe his words. A voice that wanted nothing more than to protect you from possible hurt, but it was also a voice that would only ever hold you back. 

And it was a voice shoved an iron-clad hand over to silence it. 

“Would you like to pretend?” You whispered again, letting your thumb brush just below the curve of his lower lip, which parted on a shaky inhale of breath. 

“I don’t want to pretend.” He whispered back, hand moving up from where he held your wrist to pull you closer. “Let’s just--face it. Head on.” You nodded, nose brushing against his. A brush that had your blood pounding right alongside the beat your heart had set. 

“Together?” Silco’s hand ended its journey, finding rest on your jaw. He guided you closer. So close you felt his breath ghost over your lips, sending a tingling flare through them. 

“Together.” He agreed, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. 

Waiting. He was waiting. 

He was nervous. Nervous you might run away again. Nerves that made your heart ache for him past its beating. 

You pushed closer, lips brushing against his, turning that tingling into a flame. A flame that roared into a blaze as you fit your lips against his like you would a cigarette. And just like a cigarette, his lips against yours filled your head with a pleasurable fog. Had your lips begging and begging for more. 

Silco inhaled deeply as he moved his lips against yours steadily, his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You let him hold you, his strong--safe--hold only making your head spin faster and faster. 

Forehead rested against forehead as you two pulled apart, panting in shared air. 

A goofy grin spread over your kiss-puffed lips. A grin that pulled an equally as goofy smile to Silco’s own lips, turned near red from your kiss. 

“Was that--was that okay?” Silco asked on uneven breaths. You gave a small huff in amusement, running your fingers through his hair just like they had always itched to do. An action that had Silco’s eyes fluttering in utter enjoyment.

“I would have thrown you into the harbor if I hadn’t.” You teased, nuzzling your nose against his. 

“Good thing,” He started, nuzzling your nose right back. “‘Cause I can’t swim.” 

“You have to learn. Could save your life one day.” That soft look returned in full then as he looked over your face. A look that was full of such joy it only brought the same bright joy to you.

“Only if you teach me.” You nodded.

“Gladly.” And his lips seared into yours once more.

Previous | Next

[lovesculprit]

a/n: slow intro with a fair bit of dialogue & little plot twist at the end? + if you don't like gunplay, i promise this is not the one for you, don't read it wc: 5.7k

the rest of kinktober here + (toji art credit) + special tag @risararelywrites <3

As the night crept on, the thrill of the scare park hung thick in the air, punctuated by bursts of laughter and muffled shrieks from other visitors. You walked arm-in-arm with Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru, revelling in the pulse of adrenaline that shot through you whenever an actor lunged from the darkness. Together, you’d gone through nearly every haunted house in the park, each one more elaborate than the last. 

But now, as you drifted toward the edge of the grounds, the lively sounds began to fade, swallowed up by the sight of a lone haunted house standing apart from the others—a grim silhouette shrouded in eerie, rolling fog.

This house looked different. It was darker, older, with an unsettling aura that seemed to thicken the air around it. Unlike the other exhibits, there were no bright lights, no cheering guides or costumed actors welcoming you in, just an open doorway that hinted at cracked wood, grimy windows, and shadows that seemed to hang around and watch.

"Why isn’t anyone going in?" you murmured, stopping to stare at the building. "Did they close it for the night?"

Shoko glanced at Suguru, exchanging a look that sent a tiny ripple of unease through you. “No, it’s open. Just not exactly popular,” she replied, her voice low.

“Not popular?” You smirked, letting the hint of a challenge seep in. “Is it really that bad?”

“Depends who you ask,” Satoru replied, his usual playful tone missing as he stared at the house. “People don’t go in alone.”

“It’s a scare park.” You scoffed, waving off his warning. “How scary could it actually be?”

Suguru placed a hand on your shoulder, a rare seriousness in his eyes. “This one’s different. People say there’s something… wrong with it. Nobody wants to find out for sure.”

“Wrong?” you echoed, crossing your arms. “How, exactly?”

“Some say there’s a man who hides in there,” Shoko murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “They don’t know if he’s some rogue actor or just… some crazy man. But he’s armed. Supposedly, he sneaks around pretending to be part of the act.”

You looked at the house again, half-amused, half-spooked. “So you’re telling me there’s a real psycho in there hiding out? Right.”

Your friends exchanged wary glances, their usual bravado notably absent, which only deepened your curiosity. “You’re serious? This is over some urban legend?”

“It’s not a legend,” Shoko muttered, glancing over her shoulder as if expecting to see someone creeping out of the fog. “People say they’ve seen him covered in blood. They say he blends right in until it’s too late.”

“Staff avoid it too,” Satoru added, his tone unusually flat. “So if you’re thinking about going in, maybe reconsider.”

A thrill shot through you, half defiance, half intrigue. The house loomed ahead, daring you. “So you all think he’s in there tonight?”

Suguru’s hand tightened on your shoulder. “It’s not worth finding out. There are plenty of other places we can check out.”

But the challenge tugged at you, almost tauntingly. You took a step forward, drawing exasperated sighs from your friends.

"Are you actually going in there?"

"This is a hard no for me," Shoko insisted.

“Come on, we’re not kidding around,” Suguru said, his expression sombre.

You gave them a shrug and a smile. “I’ll just peek in, five minutes, that’s all.”

Shoko crossed her arms, rolling her eyes. “Right, nothing bad ever happens in ‘just five minutes.’”

“Remember, if he’s in there, we’re not coming to save you.” Satoru jokes as he rolls his eyes.

"Noted," you replied, dancing around him with a grin. "If anything happens, at least I'll have a story."

But as you moved toward the darkened doorway, the memories of the warnings hounded you, and crossing the threshold, a small voice whispered, maybe they're right.

Inside, the shadows clung to the walls, warping and shifting with every flicker of the dim yellowing light bulbs. The air was heavy, still, as though the house itself was holding its breath, waiting. With each cautious step, the floor remained eerily silent-no familiar creaks, no whispers from other thrill-seekers echoing from somewhere in the darkness. The quiet was suffocating.

"It's just another haunted house," you whispered, trying to break the silence. But even your voice seemed to be swallowed up by the shadows.

You reached the edge of a dusty, darkened room when a soft dragging sound cut through the quiet. You whirled around, your heart hammering, but the hallway behind you was empty. The moment you began to steady your breath, a low rumbling chuckle echoed through the room, crawling down your spine.

"Didn't think anyone would wander in alone," a voice drawled from the shadows, smooth and dripping with dark amusement. "You've got guts.”

Your breath caught as a figure began to take form: a tall, wide man whose eyes glinted in the poor light. He moved like a shadow off the wall, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips as he took another step forward, the faint glow illuminating a pistol in his hand, his finger lazily resting near the trigger.

You swallowed hard and forced a grin, hoping to mask your unease. "Are… are you part of the show?"

He chuckled, his eyes raking over you with dangerous curiosity. "I'm part of an experience," he told you, that taunting smile twisting. "But not the kind you paid for.”

Your heart was racing as he closed in; his eyes were razor-sharp and predatory. He didn't hurry-if anything, he drew out the fear across your features. The pistol glinted in his hand, but his gaze stayed fixed on you, like he was reading every flicker of emotion.

He moved forward with a nearly lazy step; his head fell to the side as his smile grew, watching you inch backward. "So, you thought this was just another haunted house?" he asked, the tiniest thread of dark thrill weaved in. "Guess it's too late to warn you some rumours are worth listening to.

Your back hit the wall, and his eyes lit up with a spark of satisfaction. He leaned in closer, pressing the gun against his temple as he did so, an intense gaze and a chilling gleam in his eye. "You've got that look-the one which says you're curious. Brave, maybe a little too much so." He paused, smirk deepening. "So, how brave are you feeling now?”

You clenched your jaw and wouldn't flinch. "Maybe I am not as easy to scare as you think," you muttered, though your own voice quivered ever so slightly. "Oh?" His smirk whittled just a little sharper, a flash of mirth dancing in his eyes. "Then let us see.”

He let go of your wrist, only to trail the gun’s barrel along your jawline, his eyes drinking in every flinch, every shiver. He seemed to delight in drawing out the silence, each second weighted with his slow, deliberate movements. And in that quiet, somehow, the unspoken threat felt far more sinister.

As he studied you, his gaze lingered, savouring the fear that glinted in your eyes. “I have all night to see what it takes to break you,” he murmured, his voice almost playful. “And something tells me, this is going to be fun.”

The glint in his eyes held a dark promise, and you knew, too late, that you’d wandered into a trap—the kind that left you wondering just who, exactly, was meant to be scared.

You swallowed, struggling to hold his gaze, fighting the instinct to look away. But he had you cornered, and he knew it—knew you were trapped in his snare, just like he’d intended. The glint in his eye sharpened as he watched, a spark of twisted satisfaction lighting up his face as he took in every flicker of fear.

The man’s grin stretched wider, dark and mocking, as he watched you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he lowered the gun, tracing the cold barrel down your jawline, his eyes studying every inch of your face with a predatory intensity. The silence between you pressed in, suffocating and tense, somehow worse than any threat he could have made.

“You’re trembling now,” he whispered, voice dipped in dark humour. “But it makes me wonder…” He tilted his head, a false look of innocence softening his gaze even as his smirk stayed razor-sharp. “Is it fear making you shake? Or is it something… else?”

Your breath caught, a barely perceptible hitch that he didn’t miss. His smirk grew, as though he’d stumbled on a private joke, something only he was in on. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re the kind who gets a thrill out of all this?” he mocked, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, as if he were sharing a secret with you. “The type who’d never admit it, but… can’t help the way their heart races anyway.”

You tried to look away, but he wouldn’t let you off so easily. With a nudge from the gun, he forced your chin up, his gaze locking with yours. “I see you,” he continued, inching closer, his warm breath fanning across your skin. “People like you walk in here alone, pretending it’s just for the thrill.” He leaned in, his voice lowering to a near murmur against your ear. “But maybe you wanted more.”

His words sent a shiver through you, mingling fear with something you didn’t want to acknowledge. He leaned back, watching your reaction, fingers brushing the side of your face in a touch that was disturbingly gentle. “Maybe that’s why you’re here,” he said, a rough laugh slipping from his lips. “I doubt someone like you would admit it, though.”

Your mind raced, and your voice caught in your throat, a knot of indignation and fear keeping you silent. He noticed, smirking like he’d already won. “Right on the mark, aren’t I?” he murmured, his hand resting on your cheek. “It’s always the innocent ones—scare the easiest, break the fastest.”

Your heart pounded, and though you willed yourself to pull away, your body seemed frozen under his touch. He held your gaze, thumb brushing softly over your cheek. “Just say it,” he teased, leaning close again. His thumb pressed lightly against your throat, tracing the beat of your pulse. “You didn’t come in here just for the scare, did you?”

The mocking smile he wore softened slightly, his voice lowering to a nearly intimate whisper. “I can feel it—the way you’re responding. The thrill, the nerves, the part of you that’s not sure if you want to run… or stay.”

You hated the way he seemed to read you, hated that he saw through the mask you wore to the part of you he’d awakened, a part tinged with something reckless and dangerous. He bent down further, enjoying how he had you at his mercy. "That's it, isn't it?" he mumbled, "It's a game-this line between predator and prey." His voice dropped to a purr. “Between fear… and whatever this is.”

You tried to steady your breath as he studied every flicker of emotion that crossed your face. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the touch feather-light but charged, like he knew exactly what he was doing.

“How much would you actually enjoy being pushed?” he wondered aloud, eyes glinting. “Maybe you’d even beg for it. Maybe you’d even like not having control.”

A thrill of panic mingled with something darker, something that made your heart beat faster. He could see it, knew the effect he was having, and the satisfaction on his face only grew. “Just admit it,” he murmured, his tone insistent, his thumb grazing your jawline. “Admit how much you’re enjoying this.”

His fingertips lingered on your hip, a reassuring touch that was highly unsettling, as if he were daring you to let those words pass your lips out loud. "Come on," he seduced, the devilish glint dancing in his eyes. "I promise I won't bite… unless you're asking.

His hand slid around to the small of your back, pulling you against him. The heat of his body reminded you just how close he was, how easily he could overpower you if he wanted. His voice dropped to a near-growl. “Last chance to back out.” His lips ghosted over your earlobe. “Tell me to stop, and I will. But if you don’t…”

His grip tightened, teeth grazing your ear, and then he pulled back, his gaze sharp as he slipped the gun into his waistband. His eyes were fixed upon yours with such intensity and something so akin to hunger; it sent the shiver down your spine. "So," he breathed, his voice low, with just a hint of challenge. "Ready to play?

Your heartbeat pounded against your rib cage, each thud a resonating drum in the silence between you. His words, his touch, the heat radiating off his body, it threatened to overwhelm you, drowning out every rational thought. You knew you should tell him to stop, should put space between you, but something kept you frozen there, curiosity mixing with the thrill of the unknown.

"I… I don't.", you stuttered, all but a whisper, while shallow breaths betrayed you, even in protest.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk edging toward a full grin. “You don’t what?” he asked, eyes gleaming. “Don’t want me to stop… or don’t know if you should?”

Closer still, he leaned in until his nose brushed against yours, his gaze burrowing into yours with an intensity that made your knees feel weak. “I think you want this more than you’ll admit,” he murmured. His hand slid up your back, fingers tangling in your hair to tilt your head, exposing your neck. “Just say the word,” he whispered, his lips hovering over yours. “I’ll give you everything you’ve been too afraid to ask for.”

He caught your bottom lip between his teeth, a playful nip that he soothed with his tongue, his voice softening to a near-coax. “Come on, sweetheart,” he breathed, every word a slow, dangerous promise. “Let yourself stop fighting it.”

"Okay," you whispered, just barely audible, the last shred of resistance dissolving as his lips claimed yours-hard and demanding. The kiss bruised with its possessiveness-he took your mouth with such hunger that robbed your breath, his tongue delving deep inside to consume you. His hand tangles in the strands of your hair, keeping you firmly in place, the other roaming along your body, mapping out every curve.

But the next instant, he pushed you away, and you tumbled backward, falling against a stack of old props that tumbled with you, a flicker of fear crossing your features. He saw it.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" he mocked, stalking toward you on lean legs with a predator's ease. "Scared off so soon?"

His eyes shone with a feral light, a cruel smirk playing about his lips. "I thought you wanted to play."

He leaned over you, grasping at your chin roughly to force you to look up at him. "Maybe you're not as brave as you thought," he sneered. "Or maybe", the tone darker, "you just need a little more incentive."

His hand had gone to his waistband, drawing out his gun. He pressed the cold metal against your lips, his eyes boring into yours with an intensity that chilled you to the bone.

"Open up, sweetheart," he ordered in his voice, a thick coating of mockery. "Let's see if you're as good with that mouth as I think you are." A hand twisted in your hair yanking your head back to bare the line of your neck. "Or maybe," he mused, "I should just shut you up completely."

He traced the gun along your jaw, down your throat, stopping at the hollow at the bottom of your neck. His eyes never once strayed from yours as he watched for the effects, feeding off your growing fear. "What's it gonna be, baby? Want to play nice, or should I get rough with you?"

He leaned closer, his eyes glinting with sadistic glee as he savoured the tension. "Tick tock," he murmured, his voice a low, menacing growl. "Time's running out, and my patience is wearing thin. Choose wisely, baby—it might just save your life."

A wicked grin spread across his face as he saw you open your mouth, lips parting just enough for the barrel of the gun to slide between them, the cold metal pressing against your tongue. "That’s it," he purred. "Good girl."

He pushed the gun deeper, savouring the sight of you as the taste of metal filled your mouth. "Suck," he commanded, his voice thick with lust as he watched you obey, your lips stretched around the barrel, tongue swirling over the smooth surface. His hand in your hair tightened, and he let out a low, satisfied groan.

"Fuck, that’s hot," he breathed, his hips pressing forward as he ground against you. "You’re a natural at this, aren’t you? I bet you'd look even better with your lips wrapped around something else."

He watched with rapt attention as you continued, cheeks hollowing, mouth working the gun with an obedient rhythm. His gaze darkened as he took in the sight of you, debasing yourself at his command.

Finally, he withdrew the gun, a string of saliva briefly connecting it to your lips. "Kiss it," he growled, voice low and commanding. "Show me how much you want it."

You pressed your lips against the barrel, kissing it softly, your eyes flickering up to meet his gaze, exactly as he demanded. Seeing you so submissive, so compliant, sent a rush of satisfaction through him.

"Atta girl," he murmured approvingly, his voice a soft purr of pleasure.

He pulled the gun away, resting it on the side as he freed his cock from his pants, stroking it slowly, teasingly, as you knelt before him. He smirked down at you, his eyes glinting with dark promise. "Put that pretty mouth to work, baby. Show me what you can do."

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding your head towards his cock, the musky scent of him filling your nostrils. His other hand gripped the base of his shaft, slapping the head against your lips, leaving a smear of pre-cum.

He pushed forward, forcing the head of his cock past your lips, groaning as your warm mouth enveloped him. "Fuck, that's it," he growled, his hips rocking gently, pushing deeper.

He groaned as your lips stretched around his thick, veiny shaft, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head. His cock was long and hard, the skin smooth and hot against your tongue. The musky, masculine taste of him filled your mouth as you took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked.

Saliva dripped down your chin as you bobbed your head, your hand coming up to grip the base, stroking what you couldn't fit in your mouth. He tasted of sweat and arousal, the flavour heady and intoxicating on your tongue.

Lewd, wet sounds filled the air as you slurped and sucked, your nose buried in his pubic hair, breathing in his scent. His balls were heavy and full, bouncing against your chin as you worked him over.

"Fuck, just like that," he grunted, his grip on your hair tightening, his hips snapping forward, fucking your face with shallow thrusts. "Take it all, baby.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as he hit the back of your throat, your gag reflex working overtime, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you relaxed your throat, letting him slide deeper, taking him to the hilt.

He threw his head back with a groan, his abs clenching, his thighs trembling as you swallowed around him, your throat fluttering around his sensitive flesh.

"Goddamn, you're a natural," he panted, his voice strained with pleasure.

The click of the safety being disengaged sent a jolt of fear through you, even as you continued to suck him off. The cold metal of the gun brushed against your cheek, a stark contrast to the heat of his cock in your mouth.

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending vibrations through his shaft. "You like that, don't you, baby? The danger, the thrill. It gets you hot, doesn't it?" He pressed the gun to your temple, the barrel cold against your skin as he fucked your face harder, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper down your throat.

"Bet you're soaking wet right now," He groaned, his grip on your hair tightening as he neared his peak. "Fuck, I'm close," he grunted, his hips stuttering, his cock throbbing in your mouth.

He pulled out of your mouth with a wet pop, his cock slick with your saliva. "Not yet, baby," he growled, his voice low and guttural. "I'm not done with you."

He grabbed your arm, hauling you to your feet, spinning you around and shoving you so you were bent over the wooden table. The rough wood scraped against your skin, the edge digging into your hips as he kicked your legs apart, exposing you to his gaze.

He flipped up your skirt, tearing your panties away with a sharp rip. His fingers dipped between your folds, teasing your entrance, circling your clit. 

"Fuck, look at you," he purred, his hand coming down hard on your ass, making you yelp. "Already so wet for me. Yeah, you’re not innocent at all, are you?” He leaned down, his breath hot against your skin as he spat directly onto your pussy, the warm liquid trickling between your folds before he licked a stripe along your slit.

He dove in, his tongue delving deep into your folds, lapping at your juices. He teased your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it into his mouth, flicking the sensitive bud with rapid strokes. The hand holding the gun rested against your ass as the other held one of your thighs, exposing you completely to his hungry mouth.

He alternated between long, slow licks and quick, darting flicks, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He growled against your flesh, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. His nose rubbed your clit as he buried his face deeper, his tongue probing your entrance.

He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them to stroke your G-spot as he continued to eat you out. He added a third finger, stretching you, filling you, as his tongue swirled around your clit.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he groaned, his words muffled against your pussy. "So sweet and wet for me. I could eat this cunt all day."

He sealed his lips around your clit, sucking hard, his tongue flicking rapidly over the sensitive nub. His fingers pumped in and out of you, the wet squelching sounds obscene in the quiet room.

His cock throbbed, rock hard and leaking pre-cum as he feasted on your pussy. The taste of you, the feel of your wetness coating his tongue, the sounds of your moans and whimpers—it all drove him wild with lust.

He fucked his fingers harder into you, curling them just right to hit that spot that made you see stars. His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit as he sucked, nibbled, licked every inch of your sopping folds.

He pulled back, his lips and chin glistening with your juices. His eyes dark and hungry as he took in the sight of you, spread out and desperate for him.

"Mmm, you're so fucking wet," he purred, his voice low and dangerous. "I could eat this pretty pussy all night long."

He trailed the gun along your inner thigh, the cold metal a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. "But first, I think I need to prep you a little. Get you nice and ready for me."

He teasingly ran the barrel of the gun along your folds, the cold metal sending a jolt of sensation through you. "What do you think, baby? Think you can handle this?"

You looked over your shoulder at him, stealing a glance as his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a faint nod of your head as you wanted it.

"I don't know," he murmured, his voice low and teasing. "Can you?"

He circled your clit with the tip of the gun, the metal cool against your heated flesh. Your hips twitched, seeking more pressure, more friction.

"Look at you, so desperate for it," he purred, his free hand coming down on your ass in a sharp slap. "Even with a gun to your cunt, you're still begging for it."

“Tell me-” he says as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh, “Use those words.”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back the moan that threatened to spill from your lips. His touch, his words, they were driving you crazy with need. You wanted him, all of him, and you didn't care how twisted it was.

"Please," you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. "Please, I need it. I need you."

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "That's more like it”

He trailed the cold metal of the gun along your slit, teasing your entrance, circling it slowly. You could feel the heat of him, the weight of his gaze on your body as he watched you squirm

He pressed the tip of the gun against your entrance, the metal cool and unyielding. Your breath hitched in your throat, your heart pounding in your chest as he applied just the slightest bit of pressure.

He pressed the tip of the gun inside you, the cold metal sliding in teasingly slow. You gasped, your body tensing at the unfamiliar sensation. He went deeper, inch by torturous inch, stretching you, filling you in a way you'd never experienced before.

"Fuck, look at you taking it," he groaned, his voice low and approving. "Such a good girl, so eager for me."

He worked the gun in and out, fucking you with it, the metal gliding along your walls, hitting spots you didn't know existed. Your pussy clenched around it, trying to adjust to the intrusion, the friction.

He pushed the gun deeper, the metal sliding in with a slick sound, your wetness easing the way. You whimpered, your body trembling as he filled you, stretched you, claimed you in the most primal way possible.

He pulled it out slowly, the metal dragging along your folds, teasing your entrance, before pushing it back in.

He twisted the gun, the barrel rubbing against your sensitive walls, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. Your pussy clenched around it, trying to adjust to the intrusion, the friction.

The wet, obscene sounds of the gun pumping in and out of your pussy filled the air, mixing with your moans and whimpers. He angled it just right, hitting that spot deep inside that made your toes curl, your eyes roll back in your head.

He pulled the gun out suddenly, leaving you empty and aching. You whimpered at the loss, your body craving more.

"Patience, baby," he purred as he tossed the gun to the side. "We're just getting started."

He lined himself up, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

He pushed inside you slowly, inch by throbbing inch, stretching you, filling you. Your pussy clenched around him, trying to adjust to his size, his heat. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips, holding you steady as he sank deeper.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he grunted, his voice strained with pleasure. "Feels so good wrapped around my cock."

He bottomed out as his massive frame engulfed you as he leaned over your back, his balls heavy and full against you as he remained deep inside you. He stayed there for a moment, letting you feel every inch.

Then he started to move, his hips rocking, his cock sliding in and out of your slick heat. He set a slow, deep rhythm, pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt.

Your pussy fluttered around him, your walls clinging to his shaft, trying to keep him inside. He grunted with each thrust, his fingers digging into your skin with a pressure that you know will leave marks.

He wrapped one arm around your waist, pulling you back against him, his hips snapping forward, driving his cock deeper. His other hand slid up your body, coming to rest at your throat. Not squeezing yet, just a gentle reminder of his control, his dominance.

"That's it, baby," he growled in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "Take it. Take my cock like the good girl you are."

He fucked you harder, faster, his grip on your throat tightening just a fraction. The dual sensations of pleasure and pressure, of being filled and controlled, sent waves of heat coursing through your body.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he panted, his hips pistoning, his cock hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur. "Gonna fill you up with my cum. Pump you full until it's leaking out of you."

His fingers tightened around your throat, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your heart race, your pussy clench around him. He was so close, his cock throbbing inside you, his body tensing.

His grip tightened on your throat, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make your pulse flutter beneath them. His other arm cinched around your waist, pulling you back harder, his hips slamming into you with bruising force.

"Fuck, gonna come," he grunted, his voice strained and guttural.

He pounded into you relentlessly, his cock stretching you, claiming you, branding you from the inside out. His balls slapped against your clit with each brutal thrust, the wet, obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air.

His hand on your throat squeezed again, not enough to cut off your air, but enough to make your head swim, your vision blur. The dual sensations of pleasure and pressure, of being filled and controlled, pushed you closer to the edge.

His fingers found your clit, rubbing it in tight, fast circles as he fucked you harder, deeper, his cock pounding into your pussy like a jackhammer. The added stimulation was too much, sending you careening over the edge into a mind-blowing orgasm.

Your pussy clamped down around him, fluttering and clenching, milking his cock for all it was worth. Your body shook and trembled, your moans echoing off the walls as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

He groaned, his hips stuttering, his rhythm faltering as your pussy worked him over. "Fuck, yes, come for me," he growled, his fingers pinching your clit, prolonging your climax.

With a final, brutal thrust, he buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he emptied himself inside you. His thick cum filled you, painting your walls white, marking you as his.

He collapsed on top of you, his weight pinning you to the table, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. For a moment, you both just lay there, basking in the afterglow, your bodies still joined, your hearts beating in sync.

He rolled his hips, his semi-hard cock still buried inside you, drawing out your pleasure. He pulled out slowly, a groan escaping him as your walls clung to him, trying to keep him inside.

He watched, transfixed, as his cum leaked out of your pussy, dripping down your thighs. The sight of you, so thoroughly used, so marked by him, sent a fresh wave of arousal through him.

"Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "So fucking beautiful, covered in my cum."

He leaned down, pressing soft, teasing kisses along your spine as you lay there, trying to catch your breath. His hands roamed over your body, tracing the curves and dips, the marks he'd left on your skin.

"You did so well, baby," he purred, his lips brushing against your ear.

He nipped at your earlobe, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. His hands slid down to your ass, squeezing. “Come on, up, lemme get a look at you.”

He helped you up, his hands steady on your hips as you wobbled on shaky legs. He turned you around to face him, his eyes dark and hungry as they roamed over your body, taking in the marks he'd left, the cum still dripping down your thighs.

"Fuck, you're gorgeous," he growled, his hands cupping your face, tilting it up to meet his gaze. "I could look at you like this all day."

He kissed you then, hard and deep, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, tasting himself on your lips. He pulled back, his eyes searching yours, a question in them.

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks as he helps you redress, along with himself.

"No," you breathe, your voice hoarse and trembling. "It was... intense, but not painful."

You lean into his touch, savouring the warmth of his hands on your face, the solidness of his body against yours. Despite the darkness of what just transpired, there's a strange comfort in his presence, a sense of belonging.

“The gun-” you begin before he chuckles and interrupts you as he approaches the gun and picks it up, “Looks pretty real, huh? Feels it too.”

You laugh a little at that, “Yeah, it definitely felt it.”

“I’ll have to thank your friends for getting me such a good prop” He says, “And for arranging this whole place…You think they’re waiting outside?”

“God no, Shoko made it very clear yesterday that she wouldn’t wait around whilst I came in here to get fucked by my boyfriend. They’ll be long gone, we can call a cab.”

“Cab it is.” He smirks as he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

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Danger To Myself (Krampus x Chubby Easter Bunny Reader)

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After reuniting with his brother. Krampus didn't think his life could get any better. How will he deal with meeting a cute chubby bunny on top of that. Will he be able to keep his instincts under control?

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Hey guys, I'm back at it again. I have a confession, I love Krampus. Ever since learning about his legend, I've been a huge fan. So when Red One showed him in such a different light, I knew it was my time to shine.

Anywho, hope you enjoy.

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He frowned at the mirror in front of him. Don't get him wrong. He was happy to rekindle his relationship with Nick. But a reintroduction dinner wasn't something he had been expecting. Still he was happy the other man wanted him in his life.

A knock came from the bathroom door. Breaking him away from his contemplated thoughts. Combing a hand through his already tousled hair. He opened the door, seeing the man on his mind.

His brother was cheerful as always. Slapping the taller man jovially on the back. That quickly turned into a tight hug. Nick was always one for physical affection. “What are you doing all cooped up in here. The guest are arriving.” His smile was wide and inviting.

Everything that the goatman wasn't feeling. Running a hand across his face, he shook his head. “Nicholas, I do not understand why you wanted this. Is it really a necessary thing. To introduce myself to all of these people?”

Taking the man's shoulders into his hands, he faced him. “Look at this as the start of a new thing. No more being holed up in your castle. I know you enjoy everyone's company there. But this is a golden opportunity. Broaden your horizons and all that.” Patting his shoulders a few times. He led him to the dinning room.

All the while he grimaced and regretted agreeing to his brother's offer.

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Ok, so maybe his brother was right. There were a lot of new people to pop up since his banishment. It hurt to admit that they were also more interesting than he would have guessed. Jack Frost was a prankster, that he already made plans with to torment Nick. Garcia had finally grown out of his awkward teenage phase. It was still fun to tease him about it though. All in all it was a good time and dinner hadn't even started.

Then you walked in. He always knew he had a thing for larger women. But you were a different kind altogether. You were wide and plush, the perfect picture of fertility. It made his fingers twitch at the thought of how they would sink into your pliable flesh. His pulse was pounding as he took in your other more animalistic features. The flopping bunny ears, button nose scrunched, and cotton tail poking out of your pants. It was enough to have him gripping his drink to hard. The sound of shattering glass caused many eyes to swing his way. But the only ones he cared about was yours.

Your face became concerned as you rushed his way. Shifting the large dish you held to one hand. You grabbed his palm and looked it over carefully. Your touch was gentle and warm. Like a fire on a chilly winter night. Shifting his hand in your own soft one, relief washed over your face. Looking up at him you beamed. “Seems like there wasn't any harm done. But what else should I expect from the great Krampus.”

He flushed under his fur. Between your compliment and having to stop himself from reaching out for your touch. It was an intensity that he hadn't experienced before. One that he wasn't sure if he should give into or shun.

Before he could speak Nick's wife was coming over with a broom. “Oh, must have been a faulty glass. Let me clean this up.” Sweeping the broken bits into a festive dust pan, she smiled. “Eostre it's been to long.”

Bringing the smaller women into a one arm hug, you nodded. “Far to long. Especially if your using that outdated name. You know I prefer (Y/N) now.” Keeping your arm around her, you join her. Leaving the room for who knows where.

If he had an excuse he'd follow as well. Until then he'd have to wonder what was in your arms. Savoring the feeling of your name on his tounge.

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

It wasn't long after that that dinner was served. It was quite the spread. Many of the items were Geman in origin. His bother did always know his favorites. Including the different varieties of alcohol. Piling his plate high, he sunk into the feast.

Everyone tucked into the food. Enjoying bits of conversation between bites. As he finished off his serving, eager to go in for seconds. Something caught his eye. A large dish half filled with a familiar dish. He wanted to kick himself for not noticing it sooner. It was a childhood favorite, Geman Baked Eggs. Ignoring all if the other platters, he scooped a large portion onto his plate. Bring a spoonful to his mouth, he had to pause. It was enough to make him hold back a moan. Butter, cheesey, and like velvet on his tounge. Better than any he had ever tasted before.

He quickly went for another bite. Only to be startled by your gaze on him. You were smirking and had raised an eyebrow at his obvious enjoyment. A part of him was defensive, while another was intrigued? He wasn't sure what to make of your attention.

Nick interupted the tension building between you. “Oh, I'm glad you noticed the casserole. The first time (Y/N) brought it over I told her how much you would enjoy it.”

His gaze snapped from you to his brother and back. You made this delicious dish from his homeland?

Your smirk seemed to widen at his confusion. Shrugging your shoulder, you leaned forward. As if you wanted to share a secret with him. Without a second thought he copied your motion. “We do share a similar history. Animalistic legends bound to a holiday. Just differing in attitude, that's all. Plus I always have plenty of eggs on hand.” You ended your statement with a wink.

Slumping a bit in his chair, he pondered you words. It was obvious you were tied to Easter. But he had never thought to visit the other legends from his own country. Always opting to stay tucked away in his keep. Or in the old days, with his brother. Maybe he had missed out on good times.

Returning your smile, he said. “It is a wonderful dish. You do our homeland proud.” Tapping a fist to his chest, he tips his head in your direction.

This causes your expression to become more sincere. Your foot begins to thump rhythmically on the ground. Something you hadn't done since a young age. Taking a gulp from your glass, hoping to cover up your embarrassment. “You should come by sometime.” His face shifts to one of surprise. “I can you know, show you around the farm. Give you a tour of the operation.” You hope that it didn't come of as desperate as you thought it sounded.

Nodding again he went for another bite. “That would be nice.” He would take his brother's advice. His horizon did seem to be broadening.

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

You had given him directions to a vast glenn. It was filled with various flowers. Shrouded within a large thicket of old trees. It was a sight he hadn't enjoyed in quite some time. Looking around the beautiful scene before him, he grew nervous. What if you regretted allowing him here? Would he do something to offend you. Causing you to kick him out. Yet another place he would be banished from.

Shaking his head, he frowned deeply. How had you wrapped him around your finger after only a single meeting. He felt like a boy with a school crush. As his eyes landed on you across the field. He couldn't find it in himself to care. It just mattered that you wanted to spend time with him.

Jogging over to him, you smiled brightly. “I'm glad you could make it. It wasn't to hard to find was it?” You shuffled your feet a bit. It was always felt awkward the first time you invited someone over. The anxiety of it all made you foot want to bounce.

His heart flutter, between your concern and flustered appearance. He was sure this day would overload his senses. “It was no trouble, kleines Kaninchen. I am looking forward to today.”

You had to steady yourself. Little rabbit, you had never been called such a thing before. It was this moment that you were thankful for your fur. Not wanting the embarrassment of him seeing your blazing cheeks. “That's good. Now let's head down the rabbit hole.”

Snatching up his hand, you took off. He was startled at the strength your soft hand held. Sure he had expected speed. But the power in your hand wrapped around his own. If he had to guess, he belived it would be no challenge for you to carry him. Even at the hastened pace you were going at. You were practically lifting him off the ground.

He would have continued marveling at your strength. If it wasn't for the fact that you were pulling him towards a very small hole in the ground. Before he could call out, the burrow widened. Easily large enough to fit the two of you. Jumping in, you gave him a mischievous look over your shoulder. His breath caught as he plummeting down with you. And he could confidentiality say it wasn't the fall that caused his breath to stutter.

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

It didn't take to long for the tour. Even if the farm was large, how else could you provide so many eggs and chocolates. There were only a handful of key buildings to show off. You offered to tell him all of the hens names. But the suggestion overwhelmed him. So you moved on from the vast field.

Coming up to a large building, you leaned towards him. In a low voice you said. “Don’t let the ladies know, but this is my favorite pass time. I could spend plenty of time with their feathery rumps. This though, will always be my passion project.”

Heading through the entrance, he could see what you meant. The sweet smell of chocolate filled the air in a delightful way. You made your way through the facilty. Nodding to the fellow woodland workers as you went. He knew being a goatman himself, it could be hard getting along with others. So it was a shock to see so many other animalistic humanoids. It made him feel oddly at ease. Though as he looked down at you. It seemed that was a feeling he was experiencing more and more.

Finishing up your conversation with a fox woman you nodded. Grabbing his arm, you wrapped it with your own plush one and continued forward. “I think you’ll enjoy our next stop as much as I do.”

The warmth of you body spread into him. If you were taking him there, he was sure he would enjoy every moment of it. “I will hold you to that, kleines Kaninchen.”

There it was again. The way it rolled from his tounge had you fighting off shivers. Your smile softened as you guided him deeper into the building.

Opening the door to your final destination, you glanced at him. Taking in his wide eyes and surprised expression. Stepping away from him you swept your arms wide. “This is our quality assurance room.” Candy was lined up, from wall to wall. It was organized by type and batch number, showing the sheer amount of variety. Making you way over to a smaller table, you waved him over. “I thought you might be interested in some of the more traditional chocolates. Though there is plenty more to try. If your taste is a bit more exotic.” You didn't miss the way his eyes seemed to dilate at your suggestion.

Heat pooled in his belly and he had to pause. You were a temptress, no a goddess of seduction. His muscles burned to pick you up and indulge in your taste. Bringing his face closer to yours his eyes become half lidded. “What would you recommend?”

In a flash your eyes lit up. Grabbing a speckled egg shaped chocolate you placed it to his lips. He was a bit shocked at your sudden change in demeanor. Still it was hard for him to resist your excitable nature. Closing his lips around the small confection, his eyes widened. It was creamy and smooth. As he bit into it he was surprised at the rush of spiced liquor flooding his tounge. “You are full of many surprises kleines Kaninchen.” Steping closer, he pressed his body against yours. “Show me more.”

You wasted no time, jumping up and wrapping your arms around his neck. Your lips moved feverish as they collided with his. He met you with just as much ferocity. Bringing his up hand to firmly grasp your plush bottom. He reveled un the way his finger sunk into you malleable flesh. Your bodies were flush against one another. Thrumming in the throws of passion.

When the door suddenly swung open. A deer man was looking over a clipboard as he entered. “Hey (Y/N), we need your….” As his gaze lifted from his work he gasped. Lifting the papers to his face he backed out of the room. Stammering out apologies profusely along the way.

Breathing heavily, he gently lowered you back to the floor. The both of your pulses were hammering in your ears. You sheepishly looked at him through your lashes. Admiring his rugged features as he gazed down at you. “I guess we could have picked a better place for something like this”

He smirked and nodded. “Perhaps I could return your hospitality. Have you ever explored in the depths of a castle?” His eyebrows raised suggestively as you giggled.

Resting your hand on his firm chest, you beamed. “I'm always up for a new experience. I've heard of a castle that has eternal Krampusnacht. I wonder if they can keep up with a bunny there.”

Your taunt got his blood boiling. Hefting your plush body up with one arm, he grins. Your lips met in another scorching kiss. “We will have to see, kleines Kaninchen.”

With that the two of you made your way out. Hoping that you hadn't mentally scarred you worker. But eagerly anticipating what your next meeting might bring.

[kagscore]

𝜗𝜚 playing games with the boys

feat. isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, itoshi rin note. this is self indulgent because i wanna play league with nagi i fear ૮꒰⸝⸝> <⸝⸝꒱ა i hope you enjoy ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing rocket league with 𝐈𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐘𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈 looks like . . .

the two of you sitting in his bedroom, you curled up in his lap as you hold the controller. he holds your hands with his, moving the controller and pressing the buttons for you so you can get a grasp of the movements you need to know. slowly but surely, he lets you take full control and quietly cheers for you as you score goals and block them in his favorite game—car soccer. he's almost brimming with excitement at the idea of teaching you all sorts of tricks—flip resets, [insert other terminology]—anything so that eventually the two of you can play duos together and dominate the game. shows you how to decorate your car, the types of cars you can get and laughing when you ask if you could just drive a vw beetle instead. gets himself a second remote to play on his xbox when he thinks you’re finally starting to get the game and trying to cheer you up when you lose your first game duo’d together.

“you sure you wanna keep playing? i know it isn’t the easiest thing in the world…” “i think it’s so cute you wanna get good at this game baby, of course we can play when you come over again.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing league of legends with 𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐈 𝐒𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐎 looks like . . .

nagi absolutely tossing you in headfirst into aram, knowing that you won’t get kills or assists and will die a lot but absolutely sweating his balls off so that he can still carry you to a win. you ask a lot of questions about who you’re playing, who you’re playing against, your abilities and ultimates and just generally what to do and him answering every single question you ask with patience and a soft explanation. sometimes you do questionable things in game, but he just laughs and says it’s okay. congratulates when you finally figure out who you want to main, celebrates when you get your first kill, and even buys you that skin you want as a gift for taking the time to play a game with him and spend time with him. always rerolls his character in aram, trying to find someone you like and getting a bit teary eyed when you recognize his favorite character to play once.

“it’s your favorite character, babe, swap me for them.” “i know you’re new, but please stop dying to tower. i’ll even take us out for dinner, i’m begging.”

⊹˚. ᡣ𐭩.𖥔 ݁ ˖ playing valorant with 𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈 𝐑𝐈𝐍 looks like . . .

rin trying his hardest every game you play together to be the top frag to impress you subtly, and him avenging you every time you die because how could he let his person die without killing the person that killed you? drops you his gun skins and even switches them when you guys wait in queue to skins you prefer—if he doesn’t have the skin you like, he always gives it to you when he finds and kills the person with it in a game. goes into deathmatches to one v. one you to try and help you learn the mechanics of the game and the shooting. if anyone is rude to you in a game, he’s immediately cursing and hexing their family and generational lineage in his head/in chat. he doesn’t like talking in game, but will if it means defending you against everyone else being mean because you’re bottom fragging. buys you your first skin after you get your first kill and periodically logging into your account to buy you more and surprise you sometimes.

“you should try a duelist if you want to get more kills, my love.” “now we just need to get you an ace, and we can do something special.”

[sethcertified]

「 SEVEN PLAYER GAME ! 」 . . . 📂

one. written + smau

⊹˚.⋆ starring . . . heeseung x male reader smau!

⊹˚.⋆ synopsis . . . A member of the prominent youtube group “ENHYPEN” accidentally donates a significant amount of money to a very well-known gaming creator sparking rumors and forced collaborations by their managements.

Setting up the stream with as much anticipation as you had nerves, you opened Genshin. The loading screen painted your face with its glow as you greeted the chat. They were as equally as excited as you were to finally get your first c6 five star. Bangchan and Felix had, so now it was your turn.

“Ah, I’m nervous, chat.” You said with a big grin. Your fingers danced over Alhaitham’s banner. The chat was spamming good luck messages as you hit your first ten pull.

First ten pull— 4 star.

Second ten pull— 4 star.

Third ten pull— 4 star.

At this point, you couldn’t care less for whatever four stars were joining your character list. All you cared about was getting Alhaitham. The chat cheered you on as you reached the 50/50. With a little exhale, you made that ten pull…

The gold lit up your face, reflecting in your eyes. Biting your lip, you clicked through the weapons and such until the character splash hit your screen.

“Qiqi?!” You exclaimed as you sank down into your gaming chair. The chat exploded in kahoots at your unfortunate outcome. The small zombie stared at you, a painful reminder of your first failed 50/50 of the night.

“Why is it always Qiqi, I swear!” You whined as your fingers dug in your hair. “If anything she’s going to be my first c6 five star.”

With a frown, you claimed her new c3 constellation. The chat found humor at your annoyance. Some pitied you, and donated. With some quick thanks to those who had cared to donate, you returned back to wishing.

Eventually, you hit the guaranteed pity and got him. With a smile, you immediately began playing with Alhaitham, but the job wasn’t over yet. This was only one Alhaitham needed out of 7.

“Should we wish for his weapon?” You asked the chat who immediately exploded into variants of yes. Before you could pull for his weapon though, a familiar username donated.

y/nsupremacy donated $100

“just for good luck ;)”

You grinned at the donation. y/nsupremacy had become a bit of a legend in your streams, always donating high prices and leaving flirty messages. It was a bit of an inside joke in your fandom that he was your sugar daddy.

“I was wondering where my good luck charm was. Thanks, y/nsupremacy!” You said earnestly as you started to wish for Alhaitham’s signature weapon.

On the other side of the screen, Heeseung felt giddy at your words. Being y/nsupremacy was his little secret from the world— exception being the other members of enhypen. Was it the wisest decision to send huge amounts of money to his competition for number one creator on twitch? Definitely not, but he couldn’t help it. The interactions with you, the way his heart raced as your eyes went wide at the amounts of zeros he sent, the shipping between the two of you in chat, etc. It all made his unabashed spending of money all the worthwhile.

He sometimes wished to reveal himself. Change the shipping from y/nsupremacy and y/n to heeseung and y/n, you know? Imagining the internet exploding with the news strangely made him feel butterflies in his stomach. The two of you would be the most powerful content creator on twitch! Heeseung had often had fantasies about collabing with you, seducing you with his charms, yet when he had reached out in the past… he was ignored.

So he settled. If you didn’t want to notice Heeseung as Heeseung, you at least noticed him as y/nsupremacy. As he watched you pull, you now with c2 Alhaitham and his signature weapon, Heeseung heard his dorm room door creak open. He spun around in his chair to see Jay standing in his door way.

Before Heeseung could tell him to get out, Jay was quick to announce why he had came. “Sunghoon ordered us a pizza. Come and eat.”

The urge to shake his head no and tell Jay he would eat later was quickly stripped away from him as the other members started to pile in his doorway. With a sigh, he pushed himself out of his chair and into the living room, followed by the other members with the exception of Jay. Jay scoffed playfully as he watched you gleefully on Heeseung’s monitor. They way you smiled as you pulled yet another Alhaitham con was endearing. Jay quickly exited out of stream, and switched Heeseung to his main before shutting off his PC.

By the time the pizza was devoured, Heeseung was already headed straight back to his room. Eating his last slice, he turned his PC back on and immediately hopped on your stream. You were running low on wishes, yet you were only at c4 Alhaitham. With a devious smirk, Heeseung prepared for his next donation, unaware of which account he was on.

heeseunglee donated $1,000

“you got this, pretty boy ❤️”

masterlist || next

©️ sethcertified 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my explicit permission and credit

[lennsart]

I crave reading a fic about Ravioli, but it's illegal in their era.

Like

Warriors teases Legend and Ravio for being "roommates", but then they both stop everything and shoot everyone down and explain how they "can't mention this sort of thing here" and how "Fable's done with it, but she can't do anything about the law until she's queen" and Legend tries to really hammer in the severity of the punishment for being caught acting gay.

Does this fic exist?? No one I ask can think of any about this even remotely. If it doesn't, anyone can take this idea. I can't write, but I crave this fic.

Ok so this ask is a little funny to me in the sense that anon is like "I crave.... ✨️homophobia✨️"

I don't know if a fic similar to your idea already exists ? People of Tumblr, do you have recs ?

In the meantime, I liked the idea, so there’s a little snippet under the cut for you ! It's not exactly what you suggested, I re-read your ask after I started, but the main idea is here.

(I have a specific headcanon that I haven't been able to post something about yet which goes pretty well with this : Wars met Ravio during the war of eras, yes... But an older Ravio ! And maybe he was already married to Legend, y'know, maybe he couldn't stop talking about his husband...

So it would make sense for Wars to tease Lege until he snaps, because he literally can't imagine there's a problem.)

Of course, TW homophobia & TW internalized homophobia (not much, but just in case)

“ - Look at that smile ! ” Warriors teased, poking Legend's cheek (and nearly avoiding having his finger bitten off).

“ Someone's waiting at home ? ”

Legend sighed. They had just landed in his era, and had a bit of a walk before they got to his house.

He may have been a little giddier than usual, happy to go home. It had been a while, alright ? And no matter how nice Miss Malon was, seeing her all lovey-dovey with their resident old man made him miss his own lover.

He just... Couldn't say it to the others, of course.

“ - Just my roommate, Ravio, ” he informed with a shrug.

Warriors blinked. The veteran thought that he had managed to shut him up somehow...

But after a minute, he came back with a grin that Legend didn't like at all.

“ - Roommate ? " he repeated. " You look pretty happy for just seeing a pal. ”

Legend frowned. Alright, he may have been cheerful, but he hadn't been reckless, had he ?

“ - I don't know what you mean, ” he said, neutral.

“ - Ah, you know, just saying, we've never seen you so excited, and then I learn that you have a little housemate... I can't wait to meet him, that's it. ”

Legend stopped abruptly.

" - I don't like what you're implying, cap, " he warned, scowling.

Warriors missed the murderous aura sent his way, and shrugged with a smile.

“ - Just saying, if you have a crush—

- Shut up ! ”

Maybe the screech was a little much, but Legend couldn't shake the fear that someone might hear Warriors. He already got enough shit for his lifestyle, a rumor like that could send the guards to his head again.

Worse, to Ravio's head.

He shuddered.

The rest of the chain had stopped as well, all looking at the argument.

Warriors seemed shocked, and a little insulted, too.

It was getting overwhelming, being stared at like that.

Legend sighed and grabbed the captain by the sleeve.

“ - A minute ! ” he barked to the others, dragging Warriors behind him, away from anyone who might hear.

When he esteemed that they were far enough, he checked around them to be sure that no unwelcome ear was close.

“ - Damn, vet, I'm sorry for teasing, but that seems a little excessive, don't you think ? ” Warriors declared, rubbing his wrist.

The word made Legend frown. Excessive ? He turned around to glare at the captain.

“ - I don't know if it's funny to you, ” he prefaced with, " but I'm not exactly liked by the castle guards. Saying those types of things can send me straight to execution, alright ? ”

Warriors paled at the word, visibly not expecting such a heavy topic.

“ - What ? What do you mean ? ”

Legend took a deep breath.

“ - They already find excuses to get me when I behave, ” he explained slowly, intelligibly. “ If there's a word on the street that I'm committing a crime, that won't go well for me. ”

Legend didn't know how to explain it better than that but the captain didn't look like he got it. He was frowning and blinking in utter confusion.

“ - What crime ? ” he asked, weirded out.

...That wasn't the thing Legend expected him to be confused about.

“ - Loving a man, ” he said, frowning.

Another silence.

“ - You know, loving a man when you’re a man ? ” he clarified, just in case.

" - Are you saying that homosexuality is a crime ?! " Warriors exclaimed in revolt, way too loud.

Legend shushed him hurriedly.

" - Yes, cap, I do mean that ! ” He hissed. “ What, does that sound normal to you ?

- Yes ?! ” he blurted out. “ Why wouldn't it be ? ”

That shut the veteran up, who definitely didn’t think that the conversation would go that way.

Legend stared and stared, trying to find the lie in Warriors’ face, to catch any sign that the man would smile and joke, “gotcha !”

But he only found profound honesty.

He couldn’t help a small nervous chuckle.

“ - That’s… ”

That was great, right ? They had established that it was probable Warriors’ time came after Legend’s.

It meant that things had changed. It was good.

Right ?

Why didn’t Legend feel as happy as he should ?

“ - Oh, ” he just said, and decided that he needed to sit down, actually.

His eyes found a convenient stump a few feet away from them. He walked to it and let himself fall sitting there.

Warriors stared at him, still with this shocked expression.

“ - Lege ? ”

“ - I’m fine, ” he answered, voice neutral. “ It’s good if it’s been decriminalized, ” he added not to look like this was the problem.

He was, in fact, actively trying to make things change in his time. Fable already promised him that revising this law was one of her biggest priorities as soon as she’d get properly crowned, but she’d probably face disapproval from most of the stuck-up nobles and so it’ll take time, and...

In the meantime, Legend was stuck with pretending his lover was a roommate, being scared to even hold his hand in public, abruptly changing his behavior everytime someone knocked at the door.

And that was the problem, wasn’t it ? He really was glad for the future to not have to deal with this fear.

He was just bitter that that was what he got.

(He was just tired of only being allowed forbidden love.)

“ - Wait, I don’t, I don’t get it, ” Warriors stuttered, still looking so puzzled. “ I’ve met… I mean, wait. ”

He stopped, joining his two hands in front of his lips, visibly trying to phrase his thoughts a certain way.

“ You know the war of eras involved a lot of time-traveling fighters, right ? Well, one of my allies came from your time, and he was definitely married to a man. ”

Legend arched a brow at him, reluctant to believe him.

“ - How can you be sure he came from this time in particular ? Maybe he came from a few decades in the future, who can tell. ”

Warriors looked like he had bitten inside a lemon for a second, and then he closed his eyes, struggling to find his words.

“ - Listen, I just, I know, ok ? He mentioned... People you know. And before you ask, ” he quickly added as Legend opened his mouth with a frown, “ I’m not going to tell you more than that. But trust me, alright, vet ? Things will get better sooner than you think. ”

Legend shrugged, but it did feel good to hear. He tried a smile.

“ - Well, that’s great, then, ” he declared. He finally got up, dusting up his tunic. “ But it doesn’t actually change anything. The type of comments you made earlier ? You keep them to yourself, here. ”

Warriors nodded slowly, something like stifled revolt and sadness in the movement. Legend didn’t feel like addressing it.

It was great that the captain felt so strongly about the subject, in this direction at least. It was also not the place… And definitely not the time.

“ Good, then, ” he commented. “ I still want to go home quick, so if we could get moving… ”

Warriors’ nod was way more sympathetic.

“ - Of course, ” he said. “ I still want to meet this Ravio. He looks like he makes you happy. ”

Legend jerked his head towards him, his warning expression not entirely devoid of amusement. Warriors raised both his hands in peace.

“ He sounds like a great friend, is all I’m saying ! ”

And it did get a little chuckle out of Legend.

“ - Oh, he is, ” he declared with a smile. “ I’m afraid you two will get along swimmingly. ”

Warriors laughed, clapping him on the shoulder as he passed by.

When they got back to the rest of the group, the curious gazes sent their way were soothed by the fact that they were both smiling.

Legend’s smile was actually getting wider and wider, as they were getting close to his house.

When he saw it on its little hill, he rushed to the door, trying not to bounce on his feet as he waited for his partner to open.

And if Warriors observed from afar as they fell in each other’s arms, he waited until they were all in the privacy of Legend’s house to wink teasingly at their veteran. After all, he never denied having a crush, which was telling for 'mister I'll never confirm what I don't want you to know'.

It was easy to feel lighter about this story when he knew it'll end well for the couple.

They just had to wait a little longer.

[greenorangevioletgrass]

fever pitch (b.b) - prologue

soundtrack: mastermind - taylor swift pairing: footballer!bradley x popstar!reader synopsis: Bradley shoots his shot in public, but will he fumble when he meets you in person? warnings: language, drinking, meet cute notes: my first series in a while! this is shamelessly based on the epic Taylor Swift/Travis Kelce saga currently happening rn, and combine that with my innate love of football (the kicking kind, not the NFL kind) and... voila! I hope you enjoy this. Let me know what you think in the comments, reblogs, and asks. Happy reading! <3 ✨I do not have a taglist. Please follow @ficsbygreenorangevioletgrass and turn on the notification to get the latest update on my fics✨

Soccer Sensation Bradley Bradshaw Fails To Shoot His Shoot With Y/N At Her Concert?

Arsenal captain Bradley Bradshaw may be among his club’s top scorers this season, but even he misses a chance in romance like the rest of us.

The 29-year-old athlete spoke about his missed opportunity with the multi-platinum songstress Y/N while speaking to his former teammate Héctor Bellerín on the latter’s podcast, “More Than A Footballer”, earlier this week.

When asked about any fun stuff he did last weekend, Bradshaw replied,

“I went to the Y/N concert at Wembley [Stadium]... it was awesome. It was pouring rain, but it was amazing. I don’t remember Wembley ever being that electric aside from, like, cup finals. She was sensational.”

Bellerín nods in agreement, having heard great things about the famed singer-songwriter’s live concerts.

Unprompted, the American midfielder then continued,

“If you’ve heard about the tour, there’s this tradition of trading friendship bracelets. And I actually made one with my number on it, hoping I could give it to her after the show…”

The Cockney-raised Spaniard cackled in surprise and teased him, “But she didn’t wanna see you, bruv? [That is] legend!”

“No hard feelings!” Bradshaw raised his hands in defense over the Zoom call. “She needed to dry off and get warm. Gotta make sure she stays healthy, protect those vocal cords. But yeah, I was a bit bummed out about it.”

Bellerín laughed and jokingly addressed the camera, “Y/N, if you’re watching, give my boy a chance, will you?”

Mononymous pop sensation Y/N is hot off of her Kaleidoscope North American Tour, which wrapped in September. Her six-show run at Wembley Stadium this November officially kicks off the European leg of her sold-out tour. 

Will they be the next pop royalty and conquer the stadiums with their own crafts, or will this fizzle out as this week’s viral anecdote? The ball is in your court, Y/N.

Y/N’s representatives have not responded for comment.

***

Your Miu Miu heels click and clack against the ground. The pavement gleams after the rain and glistens under the streetlights. Everywhere you look, your eyes hurt. Down, and you worry about slipping into a puddle and falling on your ass. Forward, and a million camera flashes are ready to give you an aneurysm.

All in the name of reporting your night off of work, performing live in front of 90,000 people in a stadium.

In other words, all in a day’s work.

There’s a moment of reprieve, when the silvery white blitzes disappear into the dim tangerine lighting of the lobby. The flight down the stairs is so dark, you’re seeing green. It takes your eyes a moment to adjust, but as soon as they do, the thumping bass line of some dance music hits your ears. Clashing perfumes doused on the dancing, dressed-up bodies that you have to weave through.

You are seriously regretting your girl friends’ invite to a night out. You could’ve just had them over to your hotel, open a bunch of red wine, and you would’ve still had a blast. But no. You had to say yes to going to the Cuckoo Club with Lacey, Amara, and Jo.

And this evening is making you feel quite cuckoo.

There’s champagne at your booth and you’re much too eager to take a glass and start a toast. “Cheers, bitches!” you yell over the music, clinking your glass against theirs before downing the whole thing in one go.

It’s nowhere near enough.

There’s not enough buzz to dull the assault to your senses—not even after the three glasses of wine at dinner earlier. Everything is still too loud, too bright, too crowded, too… much.

“Hey!” you nudge Amara, who is sitting right next to you. “Let’s do shots!”

She turns to you, eyes widening at the slightest. “I thought you wanted to take it easy tonight!” 

“Changed my mind,” you shrug, as you get up to the bar.

While you make your way through the crowd on the dance floor, Bradley Bradshaw looks up from his booth and does a double-take at the girl who just walked by. Even in a high-end club full of the well-dressed and well-heeled, people still get starstruck. And why wouldn’t they? You’re about as famous as an iPhone. 

His eyes widen and immediately whips out his phone to shoot a text to his oldest and most trusted friend Natasha Trace.

‘Dude, I’m in the club and Y/N just walked in. What do I do??’

Natasha thankfully texts back almost immediately. Then again, maybe being a Communications Director for a major company requires her to be a good texter. ‘Wdym what do you do? Just go talk to her.’

‘You were supposed to introduce us!’ Bradley replies, eyes darting between his phone and you at the bar, conflicted.

Natasha is a mutual friend of yours, too, and when the Bracelet-gate clip went viral, she laughed in his face for a full 5 minutes before deciding to set the two of you up. But the schedule never really aligned, so he hasn’t got a chance to see you. Not even after he went to your concert with a friendship bracelet and a dream.

And now, seeing you here in the same room at the same time as him…

‘What do you want me to do, get down there and do it for you?’

‘...Can you?’

He senses the judgment even as the three dots appear on his screen. 

‘Stop being a pussy, Bradshaw. Let me Netflix and chill with my gf in peace.’

Bradley scoffs, half-annoyed and half-fond. ‘Asshole. Have fun.’

The dance floor clears up, just enough to see that you’re right there. Leaning against the bar in your dress like a dirty daydream, talking to the bartender, and he couldn’t just let you go without a word. He thought about it, and he simply couldn’t.

“Oi, where are you off to?” His teammate Martin hollers, while the others watch him make his way to the bar in determined strides.

He squeezes past patrons across this jungle of a club, hoping to God that somebody hasn’t beaten him to talk to you yet, or you haven’t ducked out completely. Oh fuck. You’re still there, though. Good. You’re still at the bar, still glimmering under the mirrorball. Just a tap on the shoulder away. You can do it, Bradshaw…

“Excuse me, I—”

You feel the hand on your shoulder just as you turn and stand up, and in a flurry of miscoordination, looks up just as the other person moves in.

In a stroke of dumb luck, Bradley feels the top of your head slamming up against his nose and he groans in pain. “Ohh!”

“Shit! Oh my God…” you gasp, reaching out to the man in front of you. He’s tall, very tall, and you can’t quite see his face with his massive hand clutching his nose. “I’m so sorry…”

“No, it’s okay. My bad…” It really doesn’t seem like it, so he lets go of his nose and smiles sheepishly. Gosh, he must’ve looked stupid right now.

But you see it differently. What you see is a dashing man in a sleek tieless navy suit and a well-groomed mustache, straight out of a Cinemascope flick, ever so handsome despite his reddened nose from the way you just accidentally headbutted him. “No, that was totally mine. Are you okay?”

Your eyes are crystal clear even in the dim light, the concern is palpable in your gaze—and rightly so. It’s just that he’d take the headbutt any day, if it means he can look at your beautiful face. “I’m… I’m swell. Y/N, right?”

There’s a shift in your gaze. First, alert—you’re assessing how much of a potential threat this person is, whether they’re gonna be weird about you— and then it relaxes. Not a threat. Then a slightest hint of mischief, like she wants to know what kind of dynamics they would have. “Have we met?”

And boy, can he.

“We haven’t, actually. But I went to your show at Wembley earlier this week. You were amazing.” He offers a handshake. “Bradley Bradshaw.”

You didn’t quite catch his name over the blaring music, although you shake his hand anyway. “Sorry?” 

He leans into your ear, “I’m Bradley Bradshaw.”

You don’t know which one makes your heart skip, the sudden close proximity, the warmth of his timbre, or the whiff of his perfume.

“Right. Nice to meet you, Bradley Bradshaw.” You accept his handshake, hoping he doesn’t see how flustered you are in the strobing purple light.

“Likewise.” He nods with a smile. “And may I just say… you look stunning.”

“What, this old thing?” You brush down the art nouveau-inspired Balmain dress on your body. You’re just being modest, of course; you know you’re dressed to the nines. You have never been much into facial hair, but somehow that mustache suits him very well. “You don’t look so bad yourself. You remind me of a… young Robert Mitchum. Or Paul Newman— or one of those Golden Age leading men.”

His face lights up. It’s hardly the first time he received that kind of compliment, but when it came from you, it feels… different. It feels special. It makes him just a little bolder. “Yeah? Maybe after a few drinks, I’ll be quoting lines from Butch Cassidy. Or would you prefer Cat On A Hot Tin Roof?”

This piques your interest. A man of culture, it seems. But of course, you can’t be too sure. “I’m more of a Paris Blues kinda gal, I’m afraid.”

Gosh, you don’t swoon so easily and he likes you so much for that. “Makes sense.”

“How so?”

“It’s a good underrated musical movie, for the musically gifted… And Sidney Poitier was just fantastic in that.”

“Huh.” You raise your eyebrows. You honestly thought he was just spouting the famous titles. But the fact that he has likely seen this hidden gem might just mean he’s really into it. “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

He leans in to speak in your ear yet again. “If you stick with me for a bit, I might show you another surprise or two.”

The music drowns out your racing heart just barely, and the bartender places a whole set of tequila shots on the bar top, and it snaps you out of your reverie for a moment. 

“Wanna get some air?”

He seems surprised, but of course he wasn’t gonna throw away this shot. “Sure. Why not?”

You instruct the bartender to send the shots to your booth, not even spending ten seconds to ponder staying in this deafening hell hole. Not when this man looks like peace. Perhaps an undercurrent of mystery underneath, but his whole demeanor is as calm and comforting as those old-school movies you put on to fall asleep. At the same time, something about this person pulls you in, it’s almost magnetic, and you can’t help wanting to see this through.

[awkward-walking-potato]

Could you do a request with 15 and 16

With Logan where the reader dresses as him for Halloween

Costume Confusion

The Xavier mansion was decked out for Halloween, glowing with a hauntingly warm ambiance as orange lights flickered, fake spider webs clung to corners, and the unmistakable scent of pumpkin and cinnamon wafted through the air. The annual Halloween party was in full swing, with mutants of all ages wearing creative and occasionally ridiculous costumes. You, however, had been feeling a little uninspired this year.

As you scanned the room filled with witches, superheroes, and a very awkward-looking Cyclops in a vampire cape, you finally saw Logan — dressed as… Logan. Of course. His costume was simple: his usual flannel shirt, jeans, and that familiar leather jacket. No costume needed for someone who already embodied a legend.

But tonight, you had something special planned for him. Smiling to yourself, you snuck out of the crowd and headed to the room where you had stashed your last-minute costume. Logan didn’t know about it yet, but you were sure his reaction would be priceless.

When you emerged, your transformation was complete: flannel shirt half-open over a white tank top, jeans, and boots — the closest match you could find to Logan’s signature look. You’d even managed to get your hands on some claw-like props. You knew it wasn’t perfect, but it was the thought (and the teasing) that counted.

With your heart racing just a bit, you made your way back into the party, spotting Logan leaning against the wall, drink in hand, surveying the scene with his usual gruff demeanor. His eyes were scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

For a split second, his brows furrowed, like he was trying to process what he was seeing. Then, as you approached with a swagger mimicking his, his lips quirked into a lopsided smirk.

“Is that supposed to be me?” Logan’s voice was low, the familiar growl softened by a trace of amusement.

You grinned, giving a mock snarl as you raised your clawed hands. “I’m the best there is at what I do,” you said in your best (but terrible) Logan impression, drawing out the claws with a dramatic flair.

Logan chuckled, shaking his head as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I know you’re tryin’ to be scary, darlin’, but you’re just way too cute.”

Your grin widened as you took a step closer, meeting his gaze. “I couldn’t find a costume, so I just decided to go as my partner,” you said with a playful shrug. “Figured it’d be easy. All I needed was some flannel, jeans, and an unshakable sense of grumpiness.”

He snorted, his smirk growing as he looked you up and down, clearly fighting to keep his amusement under control. “Well, you nailed the flannel and jeans. But the grumpiness? Nah. You’re too damn cheerful for that.”

“Maybe I’ll work on my brooding for next year.” You leaned in a bit, still grinning. “What do you think? Do I pass as a mini-Wolverine?”

Logan’s eyes softened for a moment as he reached out, gently tugging at the sleeve of your flannel shirt. “You look better in this than I ever could,” he muttered, and you could see the faintest hint of affection in his rough features.

You chuckled, slipping your hand into his, feeling the calluses of his rough palm against yours. “Thanks, old man.”

“Old man, huh?” He raised an eyebrow but didn’t let go of your hand, giving it a squeeze instead. “Careful who you’re callin’ old when you’re dressed like me. People might get confused.”

You laughed, the sound mixing with the festive atmosphere around you. The two of you stood there for a moment, comfortable in each other's presence as the party buzzed around you. It was a contrast to the wild costumes and energy of the night, but that was part of what made it special. With Logan, you didn’t need over-the-top antics—just being by his side was enough.

After a beat, Logan glanced down at your makeshift claws. “Where’d you get those?”

“Made ’em myself,” you replied, lifting your hand to wiggle the faux claws. “Not as sharp as the real deal, but they’ll do.”

Logan grinned, his eyes crinkling slightly at the edges. “Good thing. Don’t need you shreddin’ up the mansion tryin’ to be me.”

“Well, maybe if you’d let me use the real ones, we wouldn’t have that problem,” you teased, knowing full well how he’d react.

Logan shook his head, his chuckle deep and warm. “Not a chance, darlin’.”

As the party carried on, you both lingered near the edge of the room, watching the chaos unfold—kids running around in costume, the X-Men mingling and enjoying a rare night of peace. It was fun to be part of it all, but with Logan beside you, it felt like your own little moment, a quiet pause in the middle of the festive storm.

Leaning against him, you felt his arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you just a little closer. He might not have been the type to dress up for Halloween or join in on the party games, but Logan was there with you, and that’s all that mattered.

You tilted your head to look up at him, catching his eye as he glanced down at you. “So, do I win for best costume or what?”

Logan gave a small, almost imperceptible smile. “You win, sweetheart. Hands down.”

“Thought so,” you muttered, grinning as you leaned into his warmth, the sounds of Halloween fading into the background as the two of you enjoyed the night in your own way.

[isak-dot-gov]

Mic'd Up Pt.2

Pairing: Kelsey Plum x Reader

Word count: 1208

Part 1 - My Masterlist

.................................................

The next morning, you were jolted awake by your phone vibrating non-stop. Squinting at the screen, you saw a barrage of notifications—Twitter mentions, Instagram tags, and text messages from both friends and strangers alike. Dread mixed with curiosity as you opened your phone to see what all the fuss was about.

There it was: a notification from the Las Vegas Aces’ official YouTube channel.

“Kelsey's Biggest Fan: Mic’d Up!” the title read.

You bit your lip, heart racing as you clicked on the video. The screen lit up with the intro, and it didn’t take long before you saw yourself, front and centre. The video started with a slow-motion clip of you, wide-eyed and jumping out of your seat, shouting, “That’s my girl!” after Kelsey hit a three-pointer. A heart graphic floated above your head, and a cute caption popped up: “Biggest supporter in the house.”

As the video continued, it cut between clips of you and Kelsey’s jaw-dropping plays. Every reaction you’d had—cheering, fist-pumping, gasping at the refs’ bad calls—was captured in vivid detail. Your face flashed on the screen, excitement radiating, while the crowd erupted behind you. The editors had even added a dramatic slow-motion replay of you standing up and yelling, “Let’s go, Kelsey!” during a key moment in the game, complete with epic music in the background.

Your hands flew to your face, cringing at the full display of your emotions. The internet had seen it all. Your love for Kelsey. Your passion for the team. Your inability to sit still for more than five seconds when the Aces were on fire.

By the time the video ended, you were red-faced and laughing, even as the embarrassment settled in. The comments section was blowing up with fans reacting to your over-the-top enthusiasm:

“This is what love looks like!”

“Relationship goals AF.”

“Kelsey's girl is all of us when the Aces play!”

There were even memes already circulating. One showed you passionately screaming with the caption, “When you’re more hyped than the players themselves.” Another zoomed in on your face during a tense moment with the caption, “Me when the refs make a bad call.”

Your phone buzzed again, this time with a call from Kelsey. You braced yourself for the inevitable teasing.

“Hey, YouTube star!” Kelsey greeted, laughter bubbling in her voice. “Seen the video yet?”

You sighed dramatically, still blushing from the experience. “Yeah... I don’t know whether to be flattered or hide under a rock.”

Kelsey’s chuckle was warm, affectionate. “Oh, come on. It’s adorable. I think it’s safe to say the fans love you almost as much as I do.”

“‘Almost’?” you teased. “I think they might love me more after this.”

Kelsey laughed louder, her voice full of mischief. “Don’t push it. But seriously, the whole team’s seen it. A’ja’s been texting me non stop. She’s already planning ways to roast you at practice.”

You groaned, but you couldn’t help the smile forming. “Great. Just what I needed—A’ja Wilson making me the butt of every joke.”

“Oh, it’s not just A’ja,” Kelsey said, her tone almost too gleeful. “Chelsea’s already called dibs on the post-game interview next time, and Kate and Syd are coming up with new chants for you to yell. The whole team’s in on this.”

A notification popped up from A’ja’s Twitter: “Mic’d up AND famous? You’re a LEGEND now! #BringTheHype #CheerCaptain”

Before you could respond, Kelsey continued, “Anyway, we’ve got a team meeting later today. You might want to brace yourself.”

You hung up with a pit in your stomach, knowing full well you were about to walk into the lion’s den. Sure enough, when you arrived at the Aces’ training facility later that afternoon, the team was waiting for you.

The second you stepped into the locker room, A’ja’s booming voice greeted you. “Ayyy, here she is! The real MVP of last night’s game!”

The entire room erupted in laughter and cheers as the team gathered around you. A’ja threw her arm around your shoulders, pulling you into the centre of the locker room. “Y’all seen this video, right? Our girl was more hyped than the entire crowd combined!”

Jackie was right behind her, shaking her head with a grin. “Honestly, I don’t think we’ve ever had this much energy coming from the stands. We might need to mic her up every game.”

AC leaned casually against her locker, smirking. “I’ve been saying it since last night—she’s got more hype than the bench squad. We’re going to need her on the sidelines full-time.”

“Forget the mascot,” Megan added, laughing. “We’ve got our own hype woman.”

You could feel your face growing hotter by the second, but their teasing was good-natured, filled with warmth and camaraderie. The fact that the whole team had seen the video—and was getting this much joy from it—made it all the more embarrassing and heartwarming at the same time.

“Okay, okay, enough roasting,” Kelsey said, stepping forward with a playful smile. “I mean, I think we can all agree that having my personal cheerleader on blast last night helped us win, right?”

A chorus of agreement filled the room, and A’ja, never one to miss a moment, pointed at you dramatically. “You’re the reason we secured that dub! We need that energy every night.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, throwing your hands up. “Fine, I’ll accept the title of unofficial hype woman. But you better believe I’m charging for appearances.”

Chelsea winked at you. “First paycheck is going to be in popcorn and court-side seats.”

As the laughter died down, the team started gathering for their meeting, but A’ja wasn’t done just yet. “Yo, before we get serious, can we all agree that the next time she’s mic’d up, we get to pick the lines she has to yell?”

Jackie nodded, grinning. “Oh, for sure. I’m already writing down some good ones.”

Kelsey groaned, shaking her head but smiling. “I don’t know if I’m ready for this.”

After the meeting, Kelsey found you in the hallway, still laughing from the whirlwind of teasing. “You good?” she asked, sliding her arm around your waist.

“Yeah, I think I survived.” You leaned into her, feeling a wave of contentment settle over you. “Your teammates are ruthless, though.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” she said, grinning. “But seriously, they love you. You’re part of the family now.”

As you walked toward the parking lot, your phone buzzed again, this time with a text from A’ja: “We need a full mic’d-up session next game. You down?”

You showed Kelsey the message, and she chuckled. “You gonna do it?”

You grinned. “You know what? I might just. But next time, I’m going even harder.”

Kelsey laughed, squeezing your hand. “Deal. Just don’t make me laugh too much while I’m trying to play.”

As you left the arena together, the warmth of being embraced by not just Kelsey but the whole Aces family stayed with you. Sure, you were the butt of some jokes now, but you wouldn’t trade that for anything. Being part of their world—even as the loud, slightly embarrassing cheerleader—felt like you belonged, and that meant more than anything. 

Plus, next game? You were definitely going to be the loudest fan in the building.

............................................................

[tenderleavesbob]

"I'm fine," Warriors said. He stood up with nary a wobble, took two steps toward Twilight, and promptly pitched forward.

Wind and Wild almost knocked themselves out trying to catch him before he hit the dirt. Twilight, being the closest, succeeded in catching him. Warriors hit his chest with a grunt. Twilight held his upper arms and steadied him. Chest to chest, he was close enough to hear Warriors's breath catch.

Up ahead, the rest of the chain watched them. Time took a step toward them with a frown. "Is everything all right? Captain?"

Warriors pushed away from Twilight, but Twilight noted how his hands lingered for a moment too long before he let go. "I'm fine," he called. "I just tripped."

"That was one hell of a trip," Legend noted. He rested one hand on his hip and stared at Warriors with an impressive amount of judgement on his face. Warriors just made a face back at him.

"Two trips, even," Twilight agreed, studying Warriors. He looked fine, and he had walked away from their earlier battle without a scratch. At least, he hadn't said there were any injuries as he checked on the rest of the group. Wild had a small bump on his head and Time was knocked off his feet, but everyone else only admitted to scrapes and bruises. Warriors hadn't even admitted to that.

"I'll check on my boots when we stop for lunch," Warriors dismissed. He smiled easily at them, and when he walked, it was even and straight. He flashed his teeth and bumped his shoulder against Twilight's as he walked past him.

Twilight knew better than to trust that smile. They all did. Everyone resumed walking, but Twilight saw how everyone kept looking at their captain. In response, Warriors straightened his shoulders and walked in a way which reminded Twilight of the soldiers in Castle Town doing their drills.

During the fight, Twilight's attention had been on Wild. He tried to remember if he saw the Captain. Warriors was a joy to watch in most battles. He was grace and speed against Twilight's fierce strength. Twilight fought with him at the beginning of the fight, but then Wild went down and Twilight wasn't able to see Warriors again until the dust was settling.

For now, all he could do was walk behind Warriors and watch his steps. Legend casually strolled beside Warriors, teasing him about his clumsiness, but Twilight could see him checking on Warriors's steps, too. Twilight bit the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. If the vet knew how cute he found him, Twilight would wake up with something nasty in his blankets in the morning.

Warriors lasted thirty minutes before his walk relaxed again. He lasted another hour past that before his steps began to falter. Before Twilight could say a word, Legend called out, "Here looks good for lunch, Time!"

No one argued. Made Twilight wonder if everyone else saw it, too.

More telling, Warriors didn't protest. He gently bumped shoulders with Legend, who silently bumped his shoulder back. Wind grabbed Warriors's arm and pulled him away.

There was a telling limp to Warriors's steps. After a second's hesitation, Twilight shrugged and followed the pair.

"Your boots look okay," Wind was saying as the pair settled down. Warriors hummed something back as he pulled his boot off. His socks looked clean, Twilight noted, plopping down beside them. No blood.

"It was probably just a rock," Warriors said. He wasn't looking at Twilight, so he didn't notice when Twilight reached over and poked his knee. Hard.

Warriors's yelp of pain had the entire camp stopping and looking at him.

"Warriors is hurt," Twilight called, voice far too cheerful for his words. "Looks like it's his knee. Rulie, think you can give us a hand?"

Based on Warriors's glare, Twilight was probably going to wake up with something nasty in his blankets, anyway. Twilight replied with his brightest grin. In for a green, in for a red, after all!

One would think Warriors would know better than to pull this nonsense, but until he figured it out? Twilight was more than happy to be a rock in his hoof.

[fallingdownhell]

May I request Zhongli, Itto, Kaveh and Cyno with an s/o who's got crazy good luck? They could win any challenge or game presented to them, never get hurt (to badly), and are always making loads of cash (somehow).

I can imagine at least one of those characters getting jealous over something like this.. Characters Included: Itto; Cyno; Zhongli; Kaveh Content: gender neutral reader; established relationship; crack??; some fluff and comedy; nothing too serious here, just some funny headcanons Word count: 942 words Have fun with this<3

Itto

the man, the myth, the legend himself..

he gets SO incredibly jealous. When he challenges you jokingly at first, and you keep winning against him..

His pride is on the line here, okay?

you win a match of TCG against his amazing deck? That's fine, he can always challenge you for another round

but when you keep on winning and winning, he gets more and more desperate with each passing round

okay, screw TCG. How about a beetle fight? He's sure to win this, no doubt about it!

...what do you mean he lost again?

he's heartbroken. Will fall to the ground in disbelief. Have the gods truly forsaken him now?

a little drama queen about it, but it wouldn't be the Itto you know and love if he wouldn't act like this

still, you do feel a bit bad about it. To the point where you decide to only do the bare minimum and let him win against you, so he'll cheer up again

when he does win, his spirit is back up again immediately, bloating about his superior victory for the rest of the day. Like, seriously, he won't shut up about it anymore

unless someone were to mention all his previous losses, then he's back to sulking again

however, the next day, all is forgiven and forgotten again

Cyno

one night, after dinner, he was talking about his new deck in TCG when you decided to ask him if he could teach you how to play

immediate sparkles in his eyes as he gets all excited and pulls out a new set of cards for you. He's been waiting for this day to come!

takes his time to explain the rules to you and helps you build your deck. If you ask him questions, he answeres them paitently

then comes the time for your first duel. Even though you are his partner and it's your first ever match, he doesn't plan to go easy on you. Well, maybe a bit, but he still will take this match very seriously

But when you end up winning against him, he's dumbfounded. How did you manage to do that?

He'd quietly mumble something about beginners luck, then challenges you to a rematch. This time, he plans to go all out

...and he looses again

now thourougly confused, he's looking at his cards like he might find the answer in them, while you are laughing your ass off. Your stomach hurts from all the laughing, but you can't calm down. Cyno's just so cute when he looks so shaken up

it's a mystery to him, how you could win against him, despite him having the better cards, the better deck and obviously having more expierence playing the game

in the end, he does swallow down his pride and congratulates you to your win, though he will work his deck over and challenge you again at a later point in time

Zhongli

as an adventurer, it is unavoidable that people get injured every now and then. It's just a risk that comes with the profession

and yet, Zhongli has never seen an injury on you more severe than a cut and maybe some darker bruises

don't get him wrong, he's glad that you're not getting hurt all the time. It's just that your stories and the results don't match up most of the time

"And get this. Then, a huge rockfall comes falling down in our direction! Can you imagine that?" "Darling, that's very serious. How did you manage to avoid that?" "I don't know. Guess I just got lucky. I only got hit my a small one on the head, but it wasn't even big enoug to give me a concussion, so all's good!"

"I almost fell down a cliff today!", "A group of Ruin hunters attacked us today!", "We got locked in a cave, but luckily, they were connected to other caves, so we got out no problem."

almost every other day, you come home with a similar story and every time, Zhongli questions just how much luck one single human can possess to come out mostly unharmed every single time

still, every time you set out for work, he can't help but worry about you. What if one day, your luck runs out on you? You reassure him that you're careful, but it does little to appease his mind when you come home with yet another tale to tell...

Kaveh

Kaveh isn't one for gambling, never has been and never will be. Though, he knows that you like to induldge from time to time, so when you invite him to come along with you, he agrees

and then he witnesses you winning each and every game you partake in. Doesn't matter how rigged the games might be, you make it look so simple

with a huge grin on your lips, your arms raise into the air as you declare your victory one again, and he's left dumbfounded

when he catches a quiet moment, he can't help but ask you about it

"I don't know. I just always had really good luck when it comes to those type of games.", would be your nonchalant explanaition

now he gets why you don't go out to play more often. You'd get banned from every single location if you were to do this regularely

Going home from a place like this with such a massive win.. he's too stunned to speak, but nonetheless very impressed and proud of you for it

will accompany you more often when you want to go out to gamble again, just to see your excited and joyful expression again

[thesassypadawan]

Puck Slut .5 (Hayden x FemReader)

Summary: After meeting at a local sports bar, Hayden and you hit it off over your shared love of hockey. What starts off as an innocent friendship, soon progresses into a few casual dates. Which some, to no surprise, involve watching your teams face off against one another. Tonight’s date is a bit different. Even though your usual bet is in place, loser buys the winner dinner the next time you two go out. There’s a new, more interesting twist this time of… spice it up more. (Hope you lovelies also enjoy Puck Slut 1, Puck Slut 2, and Puck Slut 3.5!)

Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because there sooo much of the smut. Hockey, couch sex, taring of one lucky shirt and, as always…Hayden’s big dick.

Notes: An origin story for what will now be known as the Puck Slut series! Yes, I will officially be doing one for every time the Pens and Leafs face off!

Happy Hayden's (And Mine) Birthday Event! In honor of the man, the myth, the legend; I will be posting nothing but Anakin, Vader, and Hay stories all April long!

A little something for @myheartwillgoon2022!  As soon as I read your request, I knew that I had to make it into the Puck Slut Origin story! I really enjoyed writing this, it was truly a pleasure!  Hope you like it! And thank you for inspiring me to turn this into a series! ❤️

*Pregame*

- First of all, no hockey game would be complete without all sort of tasty snacks and a few ice-cold drinks. Especially ones that you may or may not have purposely picked, because they were someone’s faves.

- “Wow, you didn’t have to do all this; thanks.” Hay says so cutely, taking a sip from his bottle.

- You start to reply all sweetly. “Of course, it’s the least I could do; since you were nice enough to have me over.” Then teasingly add. “And you’re going to need some comfort food when the Leafs lose.”

- Gives your hip a playful pinch. “Oh, yeah? We’ll see who’s buying who dinner tomorrow night.”

- Squeaking a bit; you grab your own drink, along with a tasty treat. And plop ‘gracefully’ on the couch, somewhat close to him. “Which reminds me…I’d like to try that new burger joint.”

- You bet Hay’s going to pinch you again for that sassy, little remark. Snatching that goody from your hand, when you squeak and jump. What a butt.

- But he’s all adorable and smooth, wrapping an arm around you…pulling you right up beside him. “So, out of curiosity, would you want to make this game more interesting?”

- Besides getting to go out on another date with your ‘friend’… All right, you’ll take the bait. “Sure. What were you thinking?”

*Game Time*

- Normally you’d really be into the game. Cheering, hollering, cursing, the whole nine yards. But it’s kind of difficult to do so when your team hasn’t made a single goal and…you were sitting there completely, totally flustered.

- It was all because of the rules. Whenever your team scored a goal, you got a kiss from the other. Except…you had to "spice it up more" every time.

- The third period had just started with the Leafs up by three. And not even two minutes in…the siren went off. Seriously.

- A smug look crosses his face, and he looks down at you expectantly. “Well, angel; you know what to do.”

- Not really having any other ideas, you shyly climb into his lap. Resting your hands on his broad shoulders, pressing your lips softly against his. Little tongue slipping into his mouth; playing and wrestling with his. Just getting yourself more and more worked up.

- Before you’re able to crawl back out, Hay winds a strong arm around your waist. Holding you tightly against his chest. “Uh-uh, you’re not going anywhere. Leafs might score again.”

- Proceeds to make small talk about the game and feeding you snacks. Acting like this is the norm; like you’re not blushing mad crazy or wiggling from the growing bump pressing into your backside.

*Postgame*

- At last the final buzzer rang and the game ended, not before your team scored at the very last second.

- By then you’re so hot and bothered, that you’re sitting there impatiently. Hips shifting from side to side, pouting up at him. “Come on, Hay. My boys got one in. I want mine.”

- He flashes you that damn panty dropping smile. Big hands rubbing your arms soothingly, muttering in your ear. “You want a kiss, huh? All right, I’ll be sure to give you a real good one.”

- Lips crash together in a fiery kiss. Hands grabbing anything they could reach. Teeth nipping at one another hungerly. Hips bumping and grinding, passions just overboiling.

- Practically throwing you down onto the couch. He quickly removes his clothes before working on yours. Yanking them leggings and panties clean off, taring…taring your lucky team shirt. “What the-”

- “It’s fine, I’ll buy you a new one.” Tossing it aside like it was nothing, he lines himself up. Rubbing it up and down your wet slit, coating his fat head thoroughly. “Besides, you’d look better in blue and white anyway.”

- Plunging into your needy cunt, you two don’t waste a single minute. Your hips start rocking, his rolling back and forth. Massive cock stretching you; pulling out and thrusting so deep…you can’t help but whine each time he bottoms out.

- Hayden’s thick neck strains deliciously, slamming and hitting that lovely spot of yours repeatedly. Stealing your breath, making your whole body tense up. The dam inside you is about to break from all that pent up energy. “Gonna… Fuck…”

- “Yeah?” He grunts; pounding ruthlessly, tongue running across your collarbone. “Me too.”

- Biting harshly, you’re both sent spiraling. Gummy walls clenching around and clamping down on him. Dick twitching and filling you up with his hot cum. Moaning and groaning together.

- Taking a moment, the two of you try to catch your breath. Panting, grinning at each other like some love drunk fools. “See, told you I’d give you a real good one.”

- You bust out laughing, smacking him softly. “Shut up, Mountie Boy.” Before pulling him in for another ‘spicy’ kiss.

*Post Postgame*

- You don’t know how, but not only are you able to stand…you can also walk the next morning.

- So there you are, hovering over the stove. Busily making your new boyfriend’s 'mutually agreed upon' victory breakfast, wearing his very oversized Leafs shirt.

- Hay comes up behind, sporting only his extremely cheesy Leafs boxers. Pressing against you, one hand rests on your hip and the other snakes under your shirt…giving your breast a good squeeze. “I was right; you do look better in blue and white.”

- Shivering at his touch, a wicked grin spreads across your face. “Mmh, I don’t know…think you’d look better in mine…just saying.”

- You got a hard pinch for that…worth it.

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