#but back when it first came out i was obsessed

[dekuneho]

hello, hello! I am so reverently obsessed with the way you write Katsuki. I came here to ask of you to please on my knees write his reaction to us wearing his merch it would KILL me

wearing his merch ☆ ( ​prohero!katsuki x reader )

i hope you enjoy! ty for requesting this, it was fun to write

This feels…

You tug at the hem, where it's different, reinforced ribbed fabric, wishing it’d stretch the way you want it to. To cover your whole thigh. Maybe cover your entire body along with it. But the material is high-quality — only the best for Bakugou Katsuki. The material isn’t malleable, unlike those cheap, thin knockoffs. It pulls along with your grip but stays true to its shape.

The first line of merchandise of Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight. His launch collection, and you're one of the very few first customers.

You’ve been dating Katsuki for more than a year, but this — it feels like one of those milestones. First date, first kiss, first time — shit, it might even be more daunting than any of those. Because this … it feels like it’s more than a matter of supporting your boyfriend. It feels more like getting yourself into trouble. It shouldn’t be so embarrassing. Shouldn’t feel so dangerous.

Your face burns when your eyes catch sight of yourself in the full-length mirror. In his — a hoodie, off-black, disrupted by the bold orange running from either shoulder to the hemline. The skin of your bare legs follow after.

“Ugh.” Your fingers catch on the hem, intending to pull it off, right when the door slides open, and Katsuki’s figure takes up the doorway.

And doesn’t blink even once.

It takes a minute. Maybe more than that to reboot your brain back up.

“Katsuki! You’re back! You’re back?” you exclaim in a rush, ears steaming, dazed. You're torn between throwing your arms out to welcome him and drawing your arms around yourself to keep the hoodie hidden. “I didn’t know you were — It hasn’t even been — How long have you—“

Your rambling falls short as Katsuki takes one heavy step forward. It's like a string snapping.

He almost looks possessed, eyes wild, like he doesn’t know where to even start looking. You find yourself feeling skittish, stumbling backward until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. It’s entirely appropriate. The face Katsuki is making can only be described accurately as predatory.

“Uhm,” you say eloquently.

“Damn,” Katsuki says appreciatively, ruby finally zeroing in on the orange ‘X’ that encompasses your whole front. “Shit, baby, ‘s this all for me?”

“I’m not trying to pull anything,” you say defensively. “I just — uh, wanted to try it on.”

“And you wanted to keep this from me?” he asks quietly, pulling on the hem — dragging it up, and up. You shiver from the cold air on your hips. Katsuki tracks it obsessively. “God damn. Had a wet dream about this, maybe.” He licks over his teeth. “Here you are.”

Wow. Stomach, meet butterflies. Face, meet lava — or, in this case, Bakugou Katsuki, which is pretty much the same thing.

“You’re such a freak,” you say, but heat is pooling rapidly, so maybe you’re not that any better. It’s getting hot. Way too hot. You wriggle from his grasp. “It’s just merch.”

“Mine, though,” he corrects, suddenly searing his quirk-hot hands on either side of your waist. The noise you make is very high-pitched and embarrassing, and Katsuki grins like a bastard when hearing it. “Fuck you think you’re doin’? Think I’m gonna let you take this off?”

He eases you down the bed, until your ass hits the mattress.

You were expecting a reaction. Maybe not to this extent, though. Katsuki's barely out of his uniform and he's slipping his fingers in yours to push it against the sheets, rasping, "This stays on. Think you can at least do that for me, baby?"

[butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway]

So one time during a lifetime of dying my hair different shades so I wouldn't have an acute psychiatric episode, I used one of these episodes to bleach my hair for a future light colored dye job. I also decided to blach my eyebrows so I could have colorful eyebrows. I have impulsivity problems and decided on the eyebrows in the bathroom while my hair was already setting and didn't talk it through with my mom first.

Some of you will see where this is going.

When I washed off all the bleach and came out of the bathroom to show off my wonderfully prepped hair [it was nearly white gold! I could dye literally anything over this and it would work great! I was already excitedly scheduling my next emotional crisis for a 12 days out so I could try out cotton candy stripes!]

My mother looks me up and down and says one word. "No."

I'm very confused.

She darts out of the room and returns with a handheld mirror and mascara. She shoves both at me and says "you look like a nazi" and walks away.

I look in the mirror. Oh no. I *do* look like a nazi. I rip the cap of the mascara and start adding color to my eyebrows and hair as quickly as I can and I hear my mother's car start up. 15 minutes later she's back with a 1lb jar of coconut oil and a gallon jug of avocado oil and a box of baby blue hair dye, and we spent the next 24 hours triaging my hair post-bleach so we could dye it the next morning before school without destroying my hair entirely.

So like. Yeah. My primary associations for "a little too blonde" are "those weird swimming pool guys in california who are obsessed with looking like surfers but won't go near the ocean" and "nazis" and I wouldn't want either of them near my dick.

[yanderestarangel]

★ ! hidden desires — stalker!bruce wayne x male reader

a/n: This is a repost! The first post has been taken down ( by tumblr itself lol); sorry and thanks for letting me know.

♡⁠┊tw: stalking, suggestive behavior, fingering, casual sex, v! sex, ftm reader, sex with a condom, afab anatomy, blowjob.

Each time he remembered what he had done—stalking you for weeks from the shadows like the nocturnal creature he was—a strange sense of shame settled in his chest. He used his shadowy vigilante persona to justify his unhealthy obsession, but even that excuse felt hollow.

He kept insisting to himself, "It's just for his safety." However, the heat in his groin wouldn't let him pretend otherwise — standing in the rain and cold nights by the window in the building above your house... But lying and manipulating to get into your life and home was not something he usually did.

That night, you'd gone out to the club. People were whispering about a new drug called "Bliss" and some underworld drama involving Sofia Falcone, while the red lights of the club mixed with your carefree expression, oblivious to Gotham's lurking dangers.

Wayne, however, was watching you as always—from afar, waiting for the right moment to act.

He wasn’t oblivious; his glances at a few attractive men at the party hadn’t escaped the dark gaze of the guard’s blue irises. He knew his obsession with you had gone too far, yet he ignored the rational alarms ringing in his mind—and started toward you.

It hadn’t been very difficult for him to get into his pants and into his home, and, to be honest, he didn’t know whether to feel angry or surprised. Perhaps it was a bittersweet mixture he’d reflect on only after leaving the apartment, since, after all, his blood wasn’t exactly rushing to his head.

You whispered a question, asking his name, but his hands were too focused on exploring your body.

"Bruce," he growled, finally breaking the silence. "My name is Bruce." The words came out more tense than he’d anticipated, and he silently prayed you wouldn’t ask anything else—or recognize him as one of Gotham’s elusive big shots.

Bruce’s fingers pressed deeper into your warm, slick heat, curling just right against that sensitive spot that made you see stars. He felt you tighten around him, your body responding to every stroke. With an added finger, he stretched you gently, preparing you for more. His thumb found your clit, drawing tight, deliberate circles as he drove you closer to the edge with relentless precision.

Bruce murmured, "So tight. I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me," his voice thick with desire. His mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hard, while his fingers continued their steady rhythm inside you. He felt the tremors in your body, heard your breathy moans, each sound and movement pushing you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," he demanded, his teeth grazing your flesh. "Come on my fingers like a good boy."

And you did, your walls clenching around him as you cried out in pleasure. Bruce guided you through it, prolonging your orgasm and drawing every last drop of ecstasy from your quivering form.

When you finally collapsed back onto the bed, spent and panting, Wayne withdrew his fingers and brought them to his lips. He licked them clean, savoring your taste and scent. It was so sweet and erotic that he felt his cock throb, and all the rationality and chivalry that defined his persona went out the window.

Quickly, the rest of your clothes were removed, and the man with black eye shadow sat on your bed, spreading his thighs and inviting you to suck his cock — a command you immediately obeyed. The sight of you on your knees, your plump lips stretched around his shaft, was almost too much for him.

He tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding your head as you moved up and down, taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, his hips rocking forward to meet your eager tongue. "Just like that, atta boy... Take it all."

He could feel you gagging around him, could hear the wet, obscene sounds of your slurping and sucking. It was music to his ears—a symphony of pleasure that nearly undid him. His other hand found your ass, squeezing the supple flesh as he pulled you closer, pressing his cock deeper down your throat. He could feel you struggling to breathe, could see the tears streaming down your cheeks, but he didn't relent.

"Look at me... I want to see your eyes when you choke on my cock."

He commanded, holding your gaze as you struggled to comply, your eyes watering as you fought for air. But you didn’t pull away or tap out; instead, you leaned in, taking him even deeper until your nose pressed against his pelvis. He was so close to climax, but he held back, wanting to savor this intense connection, feeling your body fully aligned with his.

"No fuck... not yet..." He grunted hoarsely taking his mouth off his cock as he shook trying to hold back his orgasm. "On your hands and knees, now." He ran his hands over your smooth skin, caressing your curves, your softness, a stark contrast to his own hard planes. He was prepared that night, carrying a condom in his jacket pocket, even though he thought the chances of him touching you were zero... Well, apparently not. He positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock nudging against your entrance.

With a slow thrust, he pushed forward, breaking your tight heat. He groaned at the sensation, at the way your walls clenched around him, trying to draw him deeper. He watched his cock disappear inside you, your tight heat enveloping him completely. He could feel every twitch, every pulse of your walls around him, could see the way your body yielded to his, taking him deeper and deeper.

But despite the overwhelming sensations, he remained silent, unsure of how to express the depth of his desire, the intensity of his need. He'd never been good with words, had always been better with actions, with his fists, with his body. You tried to talk to him, however Bruce's hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp sting of the slap echoing in the room. He watched as you jolted forward, your back arching, your head thrown back in ecstasy.

"Shh... Don't talk. Just feel." He punctuated his command with another slap, his fingers digging into the reddening flesh of your ass, holding you in place as he drove into you with renewed vigor. Wayne watched as you came undone beneath him, your body shaking, your walls clenching around his cock. He could feel your release coating his shaft, could hear your sweet whimpers filling the room.

And then he was coming too, his orgasm ripping through him like a tidal wave. He buried himself deep inside you, his hips grinding against your ass as he filled the condom with his seed. He collapsed on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his breath hot against your neck. For a long moment, he simply held you, savoring the feeling of your body against his, the warmth of your skin, the racing of your heart.

He wasn't used to this, to the intimacy, to the vulnerability. He was better at fighting, at brooding, at being alone... Stalking you was a different thing than finally having you, and he felt no shame in having lied. So he pulled out of you, quickly disposing of the condom before rolling off the bed. He stood there for a moment, his back to you, his hands clenched at his sides.

"I...I should go," he mumbled, not quite meeting your eyes. "I have work to do... It was cool..."

He grabbed his clothes, dressing quickly, efficiently. He didn't know what to say, didn't know how to bridge the gap between what had just happened and what came next... He was used to being your stalker, but now his brain couldn't function after finally getting what he wanted: you.

But he was sure of something, the feeling became more fixed in his chest... He was more addicted in you.

★ ! yanderestarangel©

[biteyoubiteme]

thicc thigh obsessed gyu 😵‍💫 he loves how squishy and plush they are, touches them all the time, rests his head, inner thigh kisses and wearing pretty thigh highs and stockings has him hard and drooling

beomgyu x thighs

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! chubby reader implied, thigh fucking, marking, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.6k

an: okay I want to say I love that you sent me this and it was stuck in my head forever and im just now answering it but omfg- gyu IS A THIGH LOVER I'll take it to the grave/ die on that hill bc YES. and specifically the gyu I wrote in bubblegum flavored- so if you see beomiebear mentioned here thats why bc it’s so him coded pls I love it thank you for this. [m.list]

He would so buy you thigh highs, little sets of garter belts that clip to the top of them. He loves the marks it leaves on your thighs if you’ve been lying down with them on. Likes to snap the bands to make you jump. He loves when you’re in a skirt, and loves it even more when you wear tights, he ruins every pair you’ve ever had and loves to rip them just enough to suck hickeys on your inner thigh. Will take the time to suck them Into the shape of a heart, spending as much time between your legs as possible. Gets you fishnets a size too small, still stretchy enough to feel comfortable but tight enough to let your skin dimple, the marks left after you've taken them off turning him on just as much. 

He loves it when he lays on your plush thighs and you play with his hair. Loves it more when you wear thighs highs when he does it, finger tucked under the elastic, running back and forth. Loves when you sit and it makes a little roll right where the end is, peppers kisses all along the seam. Will use his teeth to pull them down enough to kiss the indents on your skin. 

Insatiable when you casually walk in wearing anything that highlights your thighs. But it’s always the first thing he notices anyway. You could be spending dinner with all your friends and he’s got his hand shoved between your thighs under the table, not necessarily touching you but just resting his hand between your legs for the comfort. 

Gets you specific stockings to wear during sex, the lace lining on top the perfect spot for him to kiss along. The sheer gauzy fabric is just the right texture for him to run his teeth over while he looks up at you from his knees. dons so many kisses to your lower half you have to remind him your mouth exists, pushing his hair back from his eyes, “beomie if you’re good I’ll let you fuck them,” 

and he’s putty in your hands, his weakness so easily exploited when it came to you. Because he loved to push his cock between your plushy thighs. His hands holding your squishy flesh hard enough to leave red hand prints all over. 

Laying you back against the mattress and lifting your legs up, pushed together and slathered with lube, your ankles over his shoulder, arms wrapped around your knees as he pushes his cock in and out between your thighs. 

He’s a whiny mess kissing at your legs, begging for release as you squeeze your legs together for him. You watch the way the tip of cock pokes through the seam of your legs with every thrust. His hair in his eyes as he loses himself, “Oh god- you feel so perfect-“ his fingers digging in harder as he orgasm gets closer, and watching the way you look laid out before him, your body reverberating with every hash slap of him against you. 

He always cums so much when fucking your thighs, the hot streams pulsing out and coating your stomach. cock jerking as he gives lazy thrusts, his whimpers so sweet to your ears as you praise him, “You came so good for me beomiebear, if you clean me up I’ll let you go another round,” and he will comply licking you clean and burying himself between your legs to properly devour your wetness; a reward within this request itself just before he’s hard again and ready to do it all over.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[absolutebl]

Of My 50+ Favorite BLs these are the 10 I rewatch the most

So you could call these my favorite comfort foods. Everything on this list got a rating of 10/10 or 9/10 from me.

10 Most Comforting BLs

(for me, in order of most recently rewatched at the top)

Our Dating Sim

Korea 2023 Viki (watch the series not the movie)

This is a perfect short form KBL, an office set reunion romance featuring geeks that really suits 8 eps with no fluff and no chaff. Just comforting and yummy. I adored every aspect from the casting to the pristinely simple premise to the quietly smooth execution. Sure it’s low stakes, but that makes it high domesticity and extremely warm and gentle. This is a fuzzy blanket of a story - a cozy BL. It lives in my rewatch pile and you know what’s best about it? Every single episode is in that pile. There’s no skipping with this one, it might be good natured and calmly sweet but it’s tight and the pacing is excellent.

Cosmetic Playlover

Japan 2024 Gaga

The most recent release on this list, it came out this year and I've already rewatched it 5x. I love this little show. It's a classic office BL about the older workaholic who loves his job and the younger upstart who unexpectedly loves his boss. It’s a hyung romance where everybody is extremely earnest and sweet and pretty about everything. Except our seme, who is slightly unhinged and a little obsessed in all the ways one likes best from Japan (if one is me). Plus the kisses are good! Utterly charming unexpected gem of a show. What fun!

Jun and Jun

Korea 2023 Viki

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Other boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and decent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. My only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else.

My Personal Weatherman

AKA Taikan Yoho

Japan 2023 Gaga

This style of live action yaoi really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but are so repressed they don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat than we usually get from Japan's HEA stuff, and that aspect is also very well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's great, but watching requires more patience than usual, even for Japan. That said it's also bruisingly romantic. Emphasis on bruise.

Unintentional Love Story

Korea 2023 iQIYI

OMG the plot! Uke forced into a totally understandable betrayal, falling in love despite himself, put into a corner he can't get out of, the AGONY, the PAIN in those gorgeous eyes. Gah. Okay, so: A boy loses his job due to trumped-up corruption charges accidentally discovers his ex-boss's favorite artist, now a recluse. Evil manager offers him his job back, if he can convince the artist to rejoin society. Instead, they fall in love. I found the artist a bit stiff and reserved but Gongchan (maknae of B1A4) is a fucking GIFT - he carried this show (which I do not expect from the idol element). He was luminous with extraordinarily expressive eyes, just drown in the emoting abyss. The external conflict, social tension and pressure is complex and beautifully executed, plus Korea gave us legit side dishes (NOT a love triangle, hally-fucking-luya). All that said, when I rewatch this it's usually just the second half, but WHAT a ride.

Semantic Error

Korea 2022 Viki

Sexy older boy discovers pouty younger boy has outed him as a slacker, starts out bullying him, accidentally falls madly in love instead. Korea hits it entirely out of the Parks by doing a university BL with everything we expect from BL just done exactly right. Korea's signature quality executed perfectly with added bonus good story, great pacing, stunning visuals, and fantastic chemistry. You cannot ask for more from a BL, let alone a KBL. Another one where the rewatch is mostly just the second half.

Old Fashion Cupcake

Japan 2022

This show had me from the moment they broke the egg yolk with the chopsticks in the opening credits. It’s about a younger man with a long cherished crush on his boss (ten years older and going through a mid life crisis) who decides to save and seduce said boss with pancakes. It’s wholesome, comforting, sexy, and a very necessary narrative about still having hope, interests, and openness to affection at any age. It’s a stunningly filmed late-in-life comg of age/queerness story packaged in a subtle critique of expectations around masculinity, love, and loneliness… and it’s beautiful.

Yes yes. But the bit you know you want to rewatch is that long shot with the bite kiss. YOU KNOW you wanna.

Seven Days

Japan 2015

Ha! I faked you out 'cause this wasn't at the top but of course it's on the list! One of the best live action yaois ever made, with perfectly structured angst, fantastic characters and acting, and no problematic tropes (rare in Japanese BL). Older boy dares the hot af younger one to date him for a week. Turns out they both like it... A lot. The leads have excellent chemistry although it’s low heat there’s still some really cute mutual kisses.

Takara & Amagi

Japan 2022

I gnawed on my knuckles and squealed a lot with this show, but a rewatch is way less tense. Reserved cool kid must learn to communicate to keep the tiny disaster nugget he’s madly in love with. It is beyond charming: soft and gentle, packed with cuteness and high school angst, thirst, & yearning.

We Best Love

Taiwan 2021 WeTV

WBL successfully managed to pick up and combine the best features of Korean, Thai, and Japanese BL as it exists right now. Couple that to the insane chemistry from the leads, and we have one of the greatest BLs of all time, cooking to a recipe I doubt anyone else will ever be able to replicate since only Taiwan is this flexible. It's basically every classic BL trope bombarded at us in two parts, rapid fire, one after another. Rewatching this show reminds me of everything I love about this genre. It is the genre in pure concentrated form.

The End!

I think it's no accident that none of these are Thai, part of a rewatch for me is the brevity of the show, longer stuff does get rewatched, but not as frequently.

(source)

[blackynsupremacy]

HIS LITTLE

BOOKWORM

pairing: nicholas a. chavez x black!fem!reader

summary: it’s the year 1991. top man on campus and college senior, nicholas chavez, is finding it difficult to stay on task to study for midterms. how else could he concentrate when his growing infatuation of the newest librarian keeps getting worse?

guest starring: michael evans behling as calvin and rudy pankow as chad.

a/n: my first official smut fic, so please be kind! reblogs are highly appreciated. if you like it, should i do a part two?

contains: 18+ content mdni, lots of words, 90s au, 15 year age gap (nicholas is 22 and reader is 37) reader is divorced, swearing, mention of cheating, alcohol consumption, partying, wet dreams, sensual fantasy, sexual tension, flirting, making out, groping, fingering, oral (f! receiving), squirting, public sex (but no one can see it), masturbation, morally gray nicholas, nicholas is obsessed with reader, nicholas is a pervert, but also respects reader.

taglist: @jkr820 @simply-the-best23 @thabiddie23 @hoffmansgirl @austeenbootler @greengoblinswifey @hnch33rios @supaprettyg @xoxoglittergossip @ellethespaceunicorn @rosiestalez @sabrinasopposite @camiesully @tryingtograspctrl @elitesanjisimp @gxuxhdjdu @sheydnni

nicholas chavez was used to strutting the emerald pathways of the university he attended with such an air of confidence, but this time was different. this time was fucked. it was now an air of utter frustration and instead of strutting, he was trudging down the sidewalk hard enough that creases could be forming on his new, pristine adidas sneakers. he didn’t really give a fuck though. he just needed to get to this library, meet his friend, calvin, and cram the best way he could for a good hour or two. after three years of working his ass off to maintain his full-ride, he thought it was a great idea for him to let loose more often and kick back with his friends this time around. one could diagnose nicholas with the classic case of “senioritis”, but he’d call it giving a guy a break. when it came to the topic of college parties, his parents would advise him not to overdo it, but nichloas was a grown ass man now, so he can make his grown ass decisions with some grown ass control. that’s if answering every single page from calvin that signaled an event containing available booze, joints, and pussy within a few miles was control—or, perhaps consuming so much alcohol the night before a lecture where nicholas would be rushing out of his apartment with a piercing headache that grew stronger due to the burning light of the sun as he tries to make it on time was control. it was all catching up to him now as midterms were looming in and no matter how much the cares of the world lifted off his shoulders while doing body shots off the spray tanned abdomen of a pam anderson wannabe, he knew couldn’t fuck those up.

a deep sigh of relief escapes from his chest after he finally approaches the classic, colossal structure of the academic building. nicholas steps forward and pulls the handle of the door for him to be granted access. the interior had a hardwood floor as the walls were plastered with various portraits of the college’s most notable along with some inspirational quotes from authors and historical figures. the bookshelves were arranged against the walls that held endless rows of texts that varied in every researchable area that could fit the need of each student. it wasn’t swamped, but there was a good twenty-five people who also had the same idea as nicholas. his brown eyes dart from table to table until they land on the familiar face of calvin and another mutual friend they’ve occasionally partied with named, chad. making haste, nicholas approached the table.

“it’s about time your ass showed, chavez.” calvin quipped, leaning back in the wooden chair as he twiddled a pencil between his fingers. he then leaned forward to catch nick’s hand in a casual dap, with chad following suit. nicholas sat his black jansport backpack in the empty chair beside him and proceeded to take the necessary books out after sitting down.

“cal, don’t be a dick. i’m here aren’t i?” nicholas retorts with a roll of his eyes, opening the textbook to the correct page. chad picked up on the tone of annoyance.

“woah, who pissed on your parade? sounds like someone didn’t get any sleep last night. haha—ow!” chad’s snickers were cut off with nick’s foot thrashing against his shin.

“the fuck was that for!” chad whispered as he hissed while rubbing the painful area of his leg. calvin placed a hand over his mouth to muffle his hysterical laughter while nicholas was too busy reviewing material and jotting down important notes to even care,

“just for being you, chad.” nicholas dryly replied not taking his eyes off the page. exhausted from laughter, calvin took a breath and tried to ease the tension.

“in his defense, you did go overboard with those shots last night, man. there was also the keg, and the beer pong tournament—”

“say another word or i’ll kick your balls right under this goddamn table, calvin.” nicholas calmly fired, still not looking up from the page. calvin knew nick was pissed at the use of his full name. he chuckled one last time waving the white flag to resume to his book and their table was filled with silence again. nicholas was really paying for his sins now. his hand was starting to cramp at all of the notes he was writing, he felt the fatigue was about to set in when his lids start to droop down. shit, he can’t crash now. nicholas peered at the clock ticking on the wall, even that sound at such a low volume was making this hangover worse. he groaned and plopped his head down on the table, massaging his temple in agony when he heard a voice that didn’t belong to calvin nor chad. it was of a female, but not like the typical ones that they’d mess around with. the voice was soft, but carried a weight of genuine sincerity.

“i hate to be a bother, but are you boys alright over here?”

who the hell could it be to pester him now? when nicholas lifted his head from the table to give this broad a piece of his mind for her impromptu disturbance, his hardened brown gaze immediately softened to one of captivation when he saw—you. you stood at the head of the table holding a bottle of water in your hand. you were wearing a pristine long-sleeved white button up blouse that was slightly unbuttoned by the top to at least expose the brown skin of your neck. a black velvet pencil skirt hugged around your hips perfectly as it fell right above your knees and your dark natural hair was put up in a french roll bun with a couple of loose curls falling in front of your face. there was no doubt in nicholas’ mind that you were definitely older, but damn. you looked stunning for whatever age you may be. speaking of your face, nicholas found himself to be transfixed by your smooth brown skin. you had warm coffee eyes, your lashes fluttered beneath your black rectangular glasses, and your lined full lips were painted with clear gloss. he was so deep in his observation of your—everything, nicholas didn’t notice how tongue tied he was and that calvin had to be the one to speak on his behalf,

“uh-um, yeah! he’s just a little y’know—” he stammered.

“hungover?” you whisper, finishing his sentence as you leaned in closer to nicholas to further inspect his condition. while reading at your desk, you caught a glimpse of the three young men at the table a few feet from you. they did the usual banter of ripping into each other before resuming their studies until you noticed that the brunette suddenly plopped his face down to the table. you knew it all too well and you had the proper solution, so you made your way over to check in and possibly be of assistance.

“uh, yeah. i guess you could say that.” calvin responded surprised by your straightforwardness.

“mm-hm. i understand! i actually got a table filled with water, coffee, and snacks in that room over there in the corner for midterms week.” you pause and point in the direction of the room in which he and chad peer over. “i get how stressful this time could be, so please help yourselves to whatever you’d like. maybe your friend could use some water.”

calvin and chad’s eyes glimmered at the mention of free food while nicholas still sat there looking like a hypnotized fool that hasn’t uttered a word since your arrival. he’s never frozen like this in the presence of any woman before and here you were, chatting it up with his sleazy ass friends. chad sung his praises as he was already starving,

“gee, thanks! that’s really dope of you ms.—”

“just y/n is fine. i’m actually the new head librarian for the university! i’ve started about two weeks ago.” you mentioned gesturing to the general area that was filled with roaming students. “and you’re very welcome, hun! this is all just a way to make sure students have what they need to be successful.”

“well, can i just say that it was definitely a pleasure to meet you? maybe i need to come here more often.” calvin flashed his signature charming grin, his eyes briefly raking your figure. a tad awkward under his gaze, you knew it was time to get back to work. you give a court nod towards the trio,

“well—it was great to meet you! enjoy the snacks and good luck on your exams.”

the temperature of nicholas’ face rises as his cheeks glow with the shade of a faded rose when he sees your lips form into a smile at calvin’s compliment. this strange emotion he was feeling grew more intense when you gently placed your palm on nicholas’ shoulder. the water bottle that was in your other hand was now placed beside of his textbook. he could’ve sworn that the closer you leaned into him, he could surely peek down into your shirt to see your breasts. a smile of reassurance graces your face and you considerably speak in a low volume,

“if you ever need anything, don’t be afraid to ask, dear. i hope this helps. god knows, it’s helped me!” you joke, sending him a wink and bade the group to continue with their work before going off to do some organizing of inventory. the trio’s eyes are pulled into the subtle sway of your hips, heads were tilted to get a proper view of the outline of your ass when you saunter in the opposite direction, your sleek black heels accentuate the calf muscles of your smooth, brown legs. as soon as you disappear from their view, chad and calvin let out a low whistle, giving each other some daps.

“man, let me tell you something. it’s like living in a porno, she’s the hottest librarian i’ve ever seen!” calvin commented, his fingers stroking his groomed facial hair as he bit his lip at the thought of you. chad leaned back in his chair with his hands ruffling in his dirty blonde hair to stop them from going down in his jeans.

“you said it, dude. i don’t give a fuck how old she is, i’d knock the absolute dust off that pu—”

“would you guys stop?”

at their words, nicholas had finally came back to reality. they were absolutely right. you were fine as fuck. utterly fuckable by any means necessary, but there was something else about you that was more than making nicholas’ dick twitch. you didn’t know him from a can of paint and here you were like an angel, providing him with a solution after seeing him on the brink of passing out while his “friends” just sat there and shrugged it off as another hangover. it was, but nicholas wasn’t usually at the top of his game and it would only get worse if he didn’t get his shit together. it was just a simple gesture, but your concerned gaze paired with an understanding smile made him feel—warm. yet, he’d still want to bend you over one of these tables and hike up that skirt to see what you were working with of course. he’d never tell those goons at his table that though. it didn’t help that nicholas was getting pissed that they were talking about you like were one of those skanks at the parties they attended on campus. you just gave them a warm welcome and this is how they repay you? he had to put a stop to this.

“god, you guys are pigs. that’s probably somebody’s wife—or mom.” nicholas aggressively chided, his harsh gaze had returned. the guys send nicholas an appalled stare of confusion. their brows quirk at this new defensive attitude, nicholas was usually a bit cranky during a hangover, but now it looked like as if they were going to get their asses kicked because of casual dirty talk that they always engaged in.

“the hell is your problem, man? i got a good look at her and i sure as shit didn’t see a ring. plus, we were just complimenting the broad. don’t get so pissy.” chad protested leaning forward to his original position.

“yeah, she’s hot. weren’t you checking her out too? you were like a deer in headlights. you couldn’t even fucking talk to her, man.” calvin stated and gestured to the water that still sat untouched in front of nicholas, “don’t forget to sober up when you actually talk to your new girlfriend.” nicholas silently responded with his middle finger to the air. with a peeved chuckle, calvin tapped chad on the shoulder for them to take a break from the conversation and get a snack from the table in the room you’ve mentioned earlier.

when finally alone, nicholas’ eyes darted around the building in an attempt to seek you out, just to thank you for the water obviously. it was the least he could do after demonstrating such an embarrassing first impression. he couldn’t find you while sitting, so he took a few gulps of water and stood from his chair with a new wave of energy surging through his body. he wasn’t a hundred percent himself, but he was definitely better than he was ten minutes earlier. you could be anywhere in here, but nicholas was willing to take a chance to see you again when he conducted his search. it takes a few minutes as he travels shelf by shelf until he pauses to find you between two bookshelves, you were a couple feet away from him as you were squatting down sorting through the titles. nicholas stealthily leaned against the shelf, his eyes catching the skirt hike further up your closed knees the more you moved. god, how he wanted to see what was underneath. you had a concentrated furrowed gaze as you meticulously read the print, your finger pushed your glasses up on the bridge of your nose whenever you felt them slide down.

it amazed nicholas that you were still oblivious to his presence for the past three minutes. he could tell that you were into the literature you were organizing, his mind wandered to what type of books you’ve read. would you be into non-fiction, like history and science? classic literature? perhaps, greek tragedy? romance? he’d figure chicks of any age liked that kind of mushy shit. he inspected your hands, notably the left that had a bare ring finger. chad was correct, you weren’t tied down at all. before his internal interrogation of you could continue, it was all broken when he heard your voice.

“oh, hello there, again!” you enthusiastically greet, your voice soft and inviting. “is there anything i can help you with?” you inquired, halting your task. you dust your hands and stand up right to smooth down your skirt. he stopped leaning when you stepped closer. he didn’t want to seem so informal. with his hands buried in his pockets, he managed to get a word out without trying to sound like a bumbling idiot,

“uh, no, ma’am. i just—wanted to thank you for the water. it actually really helped ‘cause i wasn’t feeling too hot back there. it was cool for you to do that, so thanks.” nicholas spoke with a nervous, yet amicable tone. he tries not to blush under your benevolent gaze before he continues,

“i know i was zoned out, but you said your name was y/n, right? well, i’m nicholas. nicholas chavez. it’s a pleasure to meet you.” he held out his hand for yours to grasp, it was a tad smaller compared to his. as your earth toned fingers wrapped around his palm, his mind began to wander how they would look sunken deep within your—

“ah, yes, nicholas! i believe i’ve heard of you at my first staff meeting not too long ago. you hold an outstanding record here at the college. from what i’ve heard, you’re an exemplary student that’s on his way to a bright future. that’s surely impressive.”

holy shit, it was like every interaction with you caused a switch between his dick and his heart. it was terrifyingly exhilarating. you’d just saw him in the most embarrassing moment and yet, you didn’t scold nor judge him like any other uppity professor. you were impressed. with a humble demeanor, he thanked you for your praises even though a rush of arousal was bubbling from the inside. alas, nicholas needed to focus on getting these midterms out of the way before he starts to loose that grown-ass control he claimed he had. he couldn’t fuck up knowing that he was held to such a high standard, even higher now that you were in the know. he didn’t want to, but he had to go back to work.

“i appreciate it! um, i apologize if i put you off by not saying anything earlier. it’s so embarrassing—”

you shook your head, putting a hand up to wave it, indicating to him that it was the least of your worries.

“i’ve been there, done that. college isn’t easy and you want to make the most of it before it’s over. you’re a senior, right?” you pause, awaiting an answer, in which he nods. “then you’re okay! as long as you’re properly balancing between work and play, i think you’ll be fine.”

“all work and no play makes nick a dull boy.” he quotes, with a smirk spreading across his face. you can’t help, but to chuckle in agreement at his charm. this definitely wasn’t the groggy young man you encountered at that table. it was refreshing to see him get a sense of his spirit back.

“quoting howell. i see you don’t play about hitting those books.” you pause and look back at the unfinished task behind you before shifting your attention back to nicholas, who never took his eyes off you for a second, “speaking of, i suggest i’d better get back to work. i don’t want to keep you from studying and your friends. as i said, if you need anything, you know where to find me!”

with a nod and a wave of goodbye, you go your separate ways, but with each passing day, you’d find each other in every corner of your lives. after class, nicholas would find himself in the library more often not only for a quieter place to study, but to see what you were up to. you were obviously working, but he loved to see you in your element. nicholas doesn’t know why he came in to study for another midterm after class because he was bound to get distracted by you again. while you were reading on your break, you indulged in a cherry lollipop. nicholas attentively watched from his table as you let the sugared delicacy swirl around in your mouth, humming a whitney houston tune before you pop it out and twirl it between your fingers. it made nicholas go crazy seeing the subtle shine from your saliva on the candy. he could only imagine what your lips would feel like on any part of his skin, specifically on his own lips or where he would want you the most. when he didn’t come in to study, he’d ease his way in under the guise of volunteering to help you around the place. when he offered, you were overjoyed because let’s face it, this job was a lot to handle, so there was no harm in having someone as strapping as him do the heavy lifting. he did more than that. almost everyday, he’d come in to help you organize inventory, tidy up shelves, and help students find books. while doing so, he’d make small talk in effort to get to know you. he’d inquire about where you were from, what college you went to, your interests, and your pet peeves. then his questions would start to get personal. you two sorting were through books late one night when it began,

“y/n, i have a question for you. please, don’t think me rude, though.” he asked, breaking the silence.

“go for it, nicholas.” you shrug, looking over a title.

“um, okay. how do i ask this—you don’t have to answer, but how old are you?”

you stop and peer over your glasses at nicholas, giving him a pointed look. he stood casually with his arms crossed.

“y’know it’s impolite to ask a woman her age, right?” at that response, he threw his hands up in surrender.

“i know. m’sorry it’s just— you don’t seem so stuck up like the other staff here. you’re so chill and welcoming compared to them.” he stopped to see you still had the same neutral expression. “y’know what forget it. i shouldn’t have—” he rambles before you cut him off.

“i’m thirty-seven.” you state loud enough for only both of you to hear, fully turning your body to his.

“really?” he questioned tilting his head.

“yes, i am. you seemed surprised.”

“respectfully, you could’ve fooled me—i never would’ve guessed that.”

“i appreciate the flattery, nicholas, but in the past, i would’ve been old enough to be your babysitter.” you chuckle and turn away from him again. you didn’t see his eyes move down to your ass then back up at your head, but his response had you internally floored,

“heh, yeah. my hot babysitter.”

your felt the familiar heat rush through your body. from that point on, nicholas had only gotten bolder. he was even kind enough to go on a coffee run for you when he noticed you were running on empty one day.

“oh, nicholas, you’re a godsend! thank you so much. for this, i should give you the rest of the day off.” you say taking the cup with a smile of gratitude. nicholas felt that same rush as your fingers brushed against his while passing the cup.

“of course! anything for you.” he replied, meaning every single word. “i always found it polite to help women in need.” he paused, not taking his intense gaze away from you murmuring, “especially the beautiful ones.” before you could respond to that comment, he was already off helping a couple of freshman find what they need. maybe nicholas was just being polite, so you didn’t dwell on it that much. just like you didn’t dwell on when you were trying to reach for a book and his tall figure suddenly loomed over yours. he was so close that if you’d step back one centimeter, your back would collide with his chest. your eyes spectated as his muscular arm reached for the exact title you were grabbing for and he deliberately brought it down in front of you to take.

“is this what you’re looking for?” he whispered, your heart raced as a pool of arousal started to form between your legs. you swallow, getting your thoughts together,

“yes, that’s the one. thank you, nicholas.”

“your pleasure’s all mine.”

“excuse me?” you inquired, making sure you weren’t hearing things.

“i said the pleasure’s all mine.” he left again with a smirk playing on his face as you stood there flabbergasted and flustered as all get out.

nicholas wouldn’t just see you around in the library though, on the week after midterms, he was walking with calvin to the campus gym for a workout, but then stopped when he heard what sounded like your voice. nicholas could hear your laughter in the distance.

who the fuck could that be making you laugh so hard?

“hey, i’ll catch up with you in a bit, cal, ‘needa check on something.” nicholas tapped a confused calvin’s arm, indicating to go on before he jogged into that direction. he found you at the college’s main café, sitting at an outside table conversing with who seemed to be one of nicholas’ professors, dr. bradley emerson. nicholas respected him as an educator because he saw him as a mentor who pushed him to his full potential, but now that respect turned to disgust as he watched the man gaze at you with such enthrallment and scooted in closer proximity as if he didn’t have a wife with twins at home. what a fucking bastard. oh, but who could blame him? it didn’t help that you looked breathtakingly beautiful today. nicholas thought you always did, but you looked different. your body was adorned with a long sleeved, chartreuse green collared polo paired with a dark brown pencil skirt and matching platform heels. instead of your usual french roll bun, your natural hair flowed down in the bounciest of curls. he was a goner when you flashed your award winning smile then proceeded to remove your glasses to reveal your heavenly aged face. that’s it. nicholas had to make the decision of approaching you the best way he could before staking his claim on you. he had to get you alone. he needed you all to himself. no fucking wandering eyes from his stupid ass friends nor his perving professors, just him.

this burning desire he had for you was starting to get the best of him at home. after his workout with calvin, nicholas sped back to his apartment to shower. you were back on his mind again, so he needed privacy. he wastes no time to enter into his abode and discard of his sweaty clothes before escaping into the steamy mist of his shower. as the water cascaded down his body, he closed his eyes. nothing, but your face invaded his thoughts. he wandered back to how you always read in your free time, he could imagine you reading a filthy erotica. with each word you read, you’d grow more needy as you let your thighs spread. nicholas grabbed ahold of his hardened dick, his palm stroking back and forth with the vision of your hand sliding down your nude body. he groaned at the thought of your fingers fondling and squeezing the smooth, melanated mounds of your breasts. your fingers would be pinching at your sensitive hershey kiss nipples. the strokes of his hand gain in speed while envisioning your hand finally going down to where he always wanted to be: the sweet, slick tunnel of your pussy. nicholas’ thumb circles around his swollen, pink tip as you’d start by caressing your clit in deliberation with light pressure the more you read. one finger would easily slip in, moving in and out effortlessly causing you to whimper. his hand grips harder on the shaft, hoping it would be his name. nicholas knew that one of your fingers wouldn’t be enough. hell, not even two nor three. you needed more. you deserved more. you deserved him.

right when you would become undone, nicholas convulsed and placed his free hand against the wall as he came within his palm. he could vividly see you ride out your high, the book would fall straight out of your hand with a hard thud to the floor as you try to regain consciousness from the overwhelming pleasure. nicholas caught his steady pattern of breathing and quickly, but thoroughly washed himself clean. he couldn’t wait anymore. he needed to feel you. he had to see that vision come to fruition. tonight.

it was now nine p.m., two hours before your shift came to an end. within the last couple of hours, nicholas had devised the perfect plan to sweep in and seduce you. after a clean shower, he brushed his teeth and spritzed his skin with the calvin klein obsession cologne he’d been saving up for. he wore a tight fitted white tank under a navy blue flannel with light washed blue jeans, and his new adidas. he didn’t forget top it off with his golden cross chain. he managed for his brown hair to naturally fall against his head, but he wasn’t worried about it too much because he wanted you to mess it up tonight. with one last glance at the clock, he retrieved his keys and made his way the place where he could always find you.

when nicholas entered the library, it was basically empty. the silence was filled with the familiar click of your heels and his feet didn’t fail into leading him exactly to where you were. he saw you as his little bookworm. there you sat reading in the hidden corner against a bookshelf, your heels off of your feet with your bare legs straight out crossed over the floor. yet again, he found your obliviousness endearing as you didn’t hear him approach and sit next to you until the intoxicating smell of obsession filled your nostrils. you looked over to see nicholas sitting at your side with his legs up to his chest, his elbows rested on top of his knees with his hands hanging loose. you jolted a bit and a sigh of relief escaped your lips at the sight of him,

“oh! nicholas, it’s just you. i’m surprised you’re here on a friday night.” you comment, removing your glasses to rub any sleep out of your eye. “so what brings you by? i know it’s definitely not academics.” you tiredly giggle. it’s been a long day for you and you just wanted some alone time reading your new favorite romance novel. this book in particular had a bit of—spice to it. just as you were getting to the part of the female lead receiving oral from her lover, that rush ran down between your legs.

you couldn’t say that you weren’t in a period of longing since your divorce. one thing you didn’t miss about your ex was his inability to go down south when you wanted him to. the erotic passage was getting good until nicholas popped in. you weren’t exactly mad at his arrival, but the thought of him finding out that you, a woman of your age, was reading this at her job would be humiliating to say the least.

“i guess you could say that i’m full of surprises.” nicholas replied. he paused, taking a hand through his hair before fixing his eyes onto your face, then to the novel in your hand. “i just wanted to see how my favorite bookworm was doing—whatcha’ got there?” his finger pointed to the book. you hastily placed your bookmark in the page before closing it and setting it atop your lap.

“oh, it’s just a silly little romance novel. it’s cheesy, really.” you respond dismissively, not missing the smirk play upon nicholas’ lips.

“cheesy, eh? when i came in, it looked to me that you couldn’t take your eyes off the page. you were so—invested. was i interrupting something?” he inquired, scooting in a little closer to get a proper glimpse of the cover. god, his cologne was damn near intoxicating.

“n-no, no! of course not. i’m always glad to have you around, nicholas.” you reassured to ease the tension.

“oh, really? thanks. the feeling’s mutual.” he nonchalantly confessed, his voice soft as he placed his hand on the novel which was the only barrier between him and your skin.

you couldn’t help, but to feel that tingle rise at the mention of the nickname he gave you. his favorite bookworm. so many lines had been crossed with nicholas and you had to resist the temptation before you could lose this job, but there was something about him that made you feel a youthful thrill. it was something new, something fresh. you weren’t a dummy: nicholas chavez was obviously attracted to you. the signs were all there. the flirtatious comments, the close proximity, his lingering gaze on areas such as your lips, chest, and ass. this young man could have any other girl his age wrapped around his finger, but he’s intentionally pursuing you, someone fifteen years his senior. you’d be a liar if you denied your attraction for him. he was tall, muscular, polite, intelligent, witty, and boyishly handsome. sigh, if it only nicholas were like this in ‘seventy-six, you’d bag him instead of your shitty excuse of an ex–husband. what’s also ironic, was that he cheated on you with someone a decade younger. thinking about his infidelity had you hotter than a firecracker, but then again, with the way that nicholas was looking at you like a predator about to pounce, maybe this was fate’s way of finally getting your payback.

fuck it.

whatever game nicholas intended to play with you tonight, —you were all for it.

“mind if i take a look at what was so important?” nicholas asked, his hand still on the book in your lap. now, it was your turn to smirk.

“from one avid reader to another, be my guest.” you slyly retort, sliding the book into his large hands. he deeply chuckles when he turns to the page you’ve marked, right at the beginning of the passionate exchange between the main characters. you watch his dark brow arch as his brown eyes skim through each paragraph by the second. you notice the bob of his adam’s apple and the hum vibrating in his chest momentarily before he closes the book and sets it down by his side. he huffs out a breath with a whistle.

“i guess i was interrupting something.” he quips, turning his intense gaze back to your heated profile, scooting closer than before. “i never pinned you for reading something so—raunchy.”

“mm-hm. that’s my secret, and you also got to read it before i did.” you pause. your eyes maintaining contact, trapping your pouty lip between your teeth. “it’s a shame i couldn’t experience that chapter privately.”

nicholas leaned in to the point that your noses were almost touching.

“i’m sorry i spoiled it for you.” his gaze shifts between your eyes and awaiting lips. “how about i make it up by giving you that experience?”

you didn’t say another word, your fingers delicately caress the tanned skin of his sculpted jaw before you finally close the gap between your lips. nicholas wastes no time in fervently returning the kiss. one large hand slides up to your grasp onto your neck to pull you closer. you whimpered out at the contact, resulting in nicholas to slide his tongue against yours. as they engaged in a dance, your hands found themselves messing through his chocolate tresses as his hands took a grip of your waist to effortlessly place you on his lap. he bucked his hips up towards your own, so that you could get a feel of his own arousal. you both groaned out due to the burning sensation before he pulled away from your lips to attack your neck as his hands descend to reward your ass with a tight squeeze.

“mmph, nicholas. please, i—i need you!”

your wish was his command. still with a firm grip on your ass, he gingerly places you down on your spine. nicholas’ eyes observed as your curls were sprawled on the floor with your bare half-lidded eyes glued to his face in desire. your now swollen, glossed lips were agape as you laid there with your legs spread wide awaiting for his next move. he could just cum at the sight alone. as much as he wanted to go all the way with you, he acknowledged that for the first of hopefully many times, you deserved better than being fucked on a floor, but he was going to fulfill his promise after spoiling your reading.

“as much as i want to, i won’t fuck you because that’s not what was in the book, baby.” nicholas halted his speech and slid his hands to hike up your skirt to reveal your baby blue lace underwear that had a damp spot right in the middle. he was drunk with the scent of your arousal. “god, you’re soaked—i promise m’gonna make you feel good.” his palms caressed circles on your inner thighs. you whined, the pulsing ache within your pussy grew stronger the longer you didn’t feel his touch.

“i know, baby, i know, but whining won’t get you what you want. you gotta use your words. you want this?”

such a goddamn tease this man was, but it was so exhilarating seeing him in control like this.

“yes! yes, nicholas. fuck, i don’t want this. i need this. i need you—ngh!” before you knew it, your panties had been ripped away. nicholas’ middle and index fingers work in tandem, curling at your tight, cushiony walls while his thumb made circles around your clit. nicholas was giving you the business like no other. you were a moaning mess and you were so glad no one came in at this time because it would’ve been a disaster, but that was the least of your worries when his fingers conducted a scissoring motion.

“you’re so tight. how’s that, baby? am i doing it just like the book or do i really need to make it up to you?” he questions over the soft sounds of squelching in the background, you struggle to speak as your hips start to buck up against his fingers.

“n-need y-your tongue. p-please, nicholas!”

he slowly slid his fingers out of you, his free hand holds your head in place to watch him suck your arousal clean off. he hummed in satisfaction once he popped them from his mouth.

“fuck, you’re so right. i need to taste you. right fucking now.” he lowered his head between your legs, propping each one over his shoulders. you throw your head back as his tongue laid flat against your clit in a long lick to savor the taste of your slick before his tongue moves like clockwork. your heels dig deeper within his broad shoulder blades while his tongue practically fucks you into an oblivion. if only your ex could see you now: getting it on with someone who was younger, hotter, and more appreciative of your presence. a wide toothy smile of satisfaction is etched on your face while your fingers grip onto his hair.

“mm, nick, baby. just like that…hah. such a good boy.”

that praise alone made him more relentless. nicholas’ hands pressed onto your thighs to spread them wider as he began to enclose his lips around the sensitive nub before his skilled tongue dragged around the area. he was giving it extra attention, so you could achieve the best fucking orgasm of your life. he was going to guarantee you weren’t going to runaway from it either, so he pressed your hips flat to the ground. with every suck, lick, and nibble he was giving, the hot ball of fiery pleasure within your abdomen began to expand. it was starting to be too much to handle because you can’t remember having it this good. your eyes peer down to see the dark, mischievous glint of nicholas’ eyes staring straight into yours.

“nicholas, hah. m’gonna cum…” you murmur, gently pushing his hair back.

with a quirk of his brow he raised his mouth briefly from your pussy,

“give me all you got, sweetheart.”

nicholas rasped, he then achieves the goal by digging his tongue inside while his thumb made rapid movements on your swollen clit. within seconds, that lethal combination is what forces your legs to tremble as you finally erupt into your high, which literally gushes right onto nicholas’ face. you speech is slurred, mixed with swears, praises, and his name. his movements never slow down as he’s trying to catch every single drop of you. the experience was so intense, that you dazed out while catching your breath. as if it were like c.p.r., he comes out from between your legs, holds you from the small of your back, and raises you upright to bring your lips together for another passionate kiss. his tongue brushes against yours, so that you could have what he’s been tasting. it was—sweet. sweet like the victory of getting your payback. he pulls away and your moment of internal gloating ceased when you heard nicholas’ voice.

“fuck, babe. look.”

“hm?” you questioned.

you match his gaze down to the hardwood floor to see a small puddle of what was obviously from your arousal. nicholas let out a chuckle of satisfaction.

“my little bookworm’s a squirter—hot.”

the heat of embarrassment rose on your face. you knew you felt the sensation of squirting, but damn it. now you had a mess to clean before continuing your weekend. still, you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

you got your groove back.

[kotonni]

Ok this might be a stretch but after act 2 I was so curious to see why Jayce had looked upon Viktor like that

It wasn't fear, not exactly, upon seeing Viktor in a divine sort of position I could only describe Jayce's gaze as awed.

Of course, before the third act came out, the popular theory of "Jayce is stuck in a time loop and has killed Viktor many times before" explained a lot about his behavior but not about this look. Why would he look so shaken if this isn't his first time seeing him?

Now that the show is over I do believe we might have an answer and of course the answer is given to us in this scene.

When Cait mentions Viktor, forcing Jayce to confront that more than Ambessa, the greatest threat to their lives and Piltover is Viktor himself, Jayce thinks back to that first meeting after the time skip.

Of course we know at this point that there was no time loop. This is indeed the first time Jayce sees Viktor as the herald, and Viktor's reaction to seeing Jayce for the first time after months has been distorted in Jayce's own memories.

In his mind Viktor smiles at him. Although he is about to kill him, from Jayce's perspective, Viktor's first look at him after months of being separated is one of pure affection.

During his time in the arcane he was forced to undergo contidions that directly reflect Viktor's own upbringing, but let's not forget he was also haunted by such visions:

Making Mel's image dissappear only to be replaced by Viktor's is extremely symbolic, this is not Jayce obsessing over Viktor and his actions, instead we are directly told that not only is Jayce's relationship with Viktor of the same sort as his relationship with Mel, Viktor is quite literally replacing his former lover.

We could talk about the constant parallels between Mel and Viktor for days, but I believe my last point is backed up even further by propably the most evident mirror shot of the two of them:

appearing again during Viktor's conversation with Jayce:

This is very clearly a POV shot of Viktor from Jayce's own eyes, although it is Viktor talking, the images we see are from Jayce remembering their first meeting which, of course, was fated to happen.

With this established and going back to my main point, I believe upon seeing Viktor for the first time in months, who is gazing down at him with a smile on his face, and after being forced to confront his feelings for Viktor, Jayce looks up at him with love.

This is his own realization that they are in fact meant to find one another in every timeline.

[rhiannonsknife]

https://x.com/femmeflix/status/1852896350481825792?s=46&t=PsXAfTCJv59FchQIdn66aA

I’ve been obsessed with Jackie/your Jackie fics and thoughts lately.

This with Jackie in the wilderness though..? Maybe an AU where she never died and find excuses to keep you “warm at night” in winter? You’re in the farthest corner of the cabin when she starts grinding against you softly. The others are asleep but you still have to be quiet, silently sighing into the other’s mouth as you get each other off…

-🪩

thank you 🪩 anon!! i probably added way too much background lore, but i hope this is what you had in mind <3 nsfw below so: mdni!

i feel like, unlike shauna, jackie would not be so in denial about how touch starved she is. i think she’s well aware that she needs somebody’s comfort, yet ever since doomcoming, she and shauna have not spoken properly and she won’t even look in travis’ direction.

it wasn’t just the betrayal itself, you think, without ever saying it out loud, it was the audacity of it. now, every time jackie glanced at shauna, all she could see was the life she used to have, the life she had taken away piece by piece: her boyfriend, her best friend, her sense of control. nobody is ever calling it by name in spite of the elephant (shauna’s bump) in the room.

jackie hadn’t acknowledged the pregnancy out loud, yet the unspoken tension hangs in the air whenever they are forced to share space, impacting all of you.

the more time passes, the colder everyone gets.

except for tai and van, the rest of the team has sort of neglected the need for physical touch and closeness. without anyone around that you’d be comfortable enough with to ask for a simple hug, you try to do the same as everyone else. only at night, with the others fast asleep, you ever dare to wrap your arms around yourself, picturing it’s someone else holding you.

you won’t let it show to the others, though, not wanting to be the first to break under the current circumstances.

turns out you don’t have to wait too long for someone else to be in a similar position: jackie had been the one to lose it from the start. sure, you’d all been terrified, but out of all the girls, jackie had been the most stubborn when it came to her chores out here.

she’d always been the one least likely to adapt to any of this: to the wilderness, to the cold, to the isolation that gnawed at all of you. she wasn’t built for this life, and everyone knew it, including her. but jackie wasn’t one to let people see her break easily: the same jackie who once thrived on attention now barely spoke, her haughty attitude replaced by something more brittle.

it had only been a matter of time before this facade cracked.

you’d seen her unraveling slowly. the way she avoided shauna, the way she avoided everyone, really. how she snapped at taissa for trying to delegate chores or rolled her eyes at nat’s attempts to hunt. she’s so desperate to seem untouchable, but it is clear to you that jackie’s just lost. and hurt.

and then came the nightmares, too.

you start to wake at night to the sound of her gasping, a sharp cry muffled into the blanket she clutches around her. she must’ve shot up, her breaths coming fast and shallow, and for a moment, you think she might wake everyone else. but the others keep sleeping, too used to the sounds of restless nights to stir. that’s how it starts because you -unsure of what else to do- only reach out and put a hand on her shoulder. jackie flinches, not expecting anyone else to be up at this time. you two never talk about it afterwards but you feel the way she instantly melts into your touch.

that small gesture is what makes you realize how much you’ve missed being close to another person.

after this, it is like a switch has been flipped: jackie is fixated on always lingering in your presence, eager for any kind of touch she can get, whether it’s a brush of hands, her palm to your back, or sitting shoulder to shoulder. she even picks up certain chores just to be near you. whether it is a desperate attempt for proximity and closeness or a real crush that’ll keep on growing beyond this place where you’re stuck, it feels nice to be wanted like this.

one of these nights, with the cabin quiet and the air heavy with the sound of soft snores and the occasional crackle of the dying fire, jackie takes things one step further.

everyone else is huddled together for warmth, but in the farthest corner of the room, it’s just you. or at least it was, until jackie had slipped down beside you, her breath visible in the freezing air as she sits close -closer than she needs to.

she whispers, careful not to wake the others, “it’s freezing. you’re practically an icicle over here,“ she hesitates, her hands tugging at her blanket as if trying to decide what to say next. after another moment, she ventures, “i don’t know how you’re even handling it. i feel like my fingers might fall off any second”

her eyes flicker to yours, searching for something. permission, maybe, to come even closer than she already is. “you know,” she says lightly, almost offhand, “it’d probably be warmer if we shared. not that anyone would care… or even notice.”

she doesn’t press it further, leaving the idea hanging between you. sure, the two of you have shared your moments before, but you certainly hadn’t spent the night cuddling yet.

the silence stretches out, her gaze darting to yours again, waiting for any sign. and then you shift, just a little, leaning closer, not quite touching but enough to give her what she needs. the corner of her mouth twitches, and without a word, she slides her blanket open, wrapping it around the both of you as she settles closer.

jackie voice is barely above a whisper, the words brushing against your ear. “this is okay…right?”

you nod, softly, knowing she’ll see from where she’s curled up against you from behind. like this, the two of you lie in silence for a good while. you know jackie is awake still: you can feel the way she occasionally shifts, or how her breathing won’t still in a way that it would if she was asleep.

it’s strange, how natural this feels: being this close to someone, so comfortably tangled together after such a long time. a part of you had forgotten how it would feel. another part, the one that’s been falling in love with jackie taylor long before your plane crashed, longs to have her even closer and tries its very hardest not to allow your mind to wander…

jackie, on the other hand, hasn’t felt this close to any of the other girls either. without thinking, her hand moves of its own accord, around you to rest on your stomach. her fingers are cold, even through your layers of clothing. she brushes them lightly over your skin, the touch gentle. you audibly gulp, but let her.

after another moment, you are finally brave enough to shift. you lift yourself up and adjust until you’re facing her. jackie’s hand remains on the dip of your waist underneath the blanket.

your bodies are flush against each other, your breaths mingling in the sliver of air between you. jackie’s eyes widen a fraction as you turn, her hand instinctively tightening its grip on your waist. the shift in your position has brought you even closer together.

her hand slides further, fingertips tracing over the shape of your hip. “you’re still cold,” she murmurs, her voice low and hushed in the quiet cabin. her eyes rake over you, her gaze lingering over the curve of your lips.

“it is cold in here” you point out, shivering at the realization of her wandering eyes. jackie isn’t exactly subtle about it either. after all, there’s not much she’s ever wanted that she didn’t get.

her touch is moving from your hip down to the curve of your thigh. her fingers dance over the fabric of your pants underneath the blanket. she’s still fixated on your mouth, her breath hitching as she sees the way you shiver under her gaze.

jackie leans in a little closer when she feels the way your legs fall open under her hands, her lips nearly brushing against your ear as she whispers, “you know, i think i’ve got a few more ways i could help warm you up…” her hand moves again, sliding further up your thigh.

it’s pathetic, really. it’s a desperate attempt to cling to normality. to feel wanted in spite of everything. it’s a short moment in the terrors of the wilderness that she won’t speak about in the morning. but, fuck it, you’re willing to take it.

your breath hitches in your throat when jackie’s hand inches up your leg, a small noise slipping from your lips. immediately, jackie hushes you.

“sh” she says, eyes darting to where the others are fast asleep. “we have to be quiet” and with that, your last restraints are gone. it only confirms what jackie is up to right now -if it hadn’t been clear yet, it certainly is now. and while you know, rationally, that this is a bad idea, the need to feel someone’s touch is too strong for you to neglect it any longer: awkward attempts of trying to get off under the covers whilst everyone else sleeps are clearly not doing enough for you.

at least jackie seems to be on the same page.

you both shift and adjust against each other. it’s a little clumsy, and it takes a moment to find a good position, but it’s driven by the need for something you’ve both been craving, so you make it work. before you know it, jackie lingers above you in a way that has her center pressing against your own under the sheets.

she exhales a shuddered breath and your hands jump up to hold her hips. your eyes are wide as you stare up at her, partly in disbelief that this is happening, mostly because you can’t believe that jackie wants you like this.

jackie leans in, not kissing you yet, but with her arms bracing her weight on either side of your head, caging you in. her eyes are dark, her gaze flickering over your features in a way that makes your stomach flip.

beneath the covers, her legs shift, her body pushing further into yours, grinding against you for the first time, in a way that is deliberate and calculated. her breath stutters, her voice hoarse as she speaks, “you’ve gotta be-” she gasps, and bites her lip, resisting the moan that threatens to escape. “quiet”

oh, how you wish you could’ve met her under different circumstances. how you wish jackie could’ve wanted you like this all the way back home, so you could’ve heard the way she sounds when she’s moving on top of you.

when you finally come back to your senses, you decide to make the most of this opportunity. holding her hips a little tighter, you lift your own from the ground to meet her halfway.

jackie, who’s only ever known sex to be something merely mediocre, is surprised that grinding against you (fully clothed, and in a room full of sleeping people that prevent you from going all the way) is already better than anything she’s ever had.

she shivers as you take the initiative, matching her movements with a gasp that she barely manages to bite back. she arches into you, her body moving steadily now.

her hands slide up your sides, fingers slipping under the edge of your shirt to feel the warm skin of your stomach. she leans in, her breath a shaky, quiet: “god, yes…just like that…”

you can feel your own underwear, clinging to your arousal which is growing exponentially at this rate. there’s no way you’ll last long like this, not when you’re embarrassingly close to creaming your pants just from watching her. each of your movements is mirrored by one of hers, until you’ve found a good rhythm to grind against the other. at some point, jackie’s body goes slack and she drops forward. you instantly hold her to your chest as she keeps rutting against you, moaning the faintest little “ah, ah, ah” sounds into your ear.

the friction between you spikes, both of you desperate and greedy for more connection. your hips keep meeting in a slow, steady rhythm, both pushing and pulling each other into deeper contact.

her hands are still wandering over your body, exploring every inch of your skin she can reach through the clothing that’s supposed to keep you warm but is severely restricting right now.

she draws you closer, her mouth by your ear, her voice a low, husky whisper, “i want you…i want you so badly…” she whispers. whether jackie means it or not, it works on you.

“don’t stop” you tell her, rocking into her equally desperately. at this point you can only pray that no one will hear the creaking floor boards. the sheets are a tangled mess around the two of you, the covers having slipped down to her waist as the heat between you escalates.

“jackie” you whisper, hoping the urgency to your tone will get the message across. judging by the way she nods erratically, that seems to be the case.

“yeah” she says, bobbing her head still. “yeah, me too”

you, embarrassed as you are, cum first. it’s quiet, your lips parted in a silent scream as jackie’s constant rocking sends you stumbling over the edge you’ve been toeing since she began straddling you. she watches you fall apart beneath her, not once slowing down or stopping altogether, determined to make herself cum too.

her eyes flutter and she struggles to keep her breathing steady as her hold on you tightens. “don’t- don’t you dare stop-“ she hisses, your pleasure not yet ebbing by the time she follows. jackie is beautiful, obviously, but you’ve never seen something that could ever compare to her when she makes herself come against you: her head falls back and her eyes close tightly. she’s biting her lower lip so harshly she could be drawing blood for the sake of not being too loud.

finally, after her body has gone tense for a couple of seconds, jackie slumps against you. she’s panting right into your ear, unable to speak as her orgasm washes over her. you can feel her thighs trembling around yours as she recovers.

for a few moments, the only sound in the room is the ragged breathing of the two of you as the silence hangs heavy in the air. the cabin is quiet, the rest of the team blissfully unaware of what just happened a few feet away.

“holy shit” you finally breathe, unsure of what else to do or say. thankfully, jackie doesn’t move away like a part of you had anticipated. she stays right there, on top of you, giving you the courage to hesitantly wrap your arms around her and hold her to your chest.

if you don't move, you'll fall asleep like this and the others will have plenty of questions in the morning. still, neither of you has got the strength to get up, to move away from the heat you're providing. your eyes grow heavy before you know it. it's the first night of good sleep in a long time.

[rafelandia]

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You, Baby (Rafe x fem!reader): Chapter One

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: Y/N is new to the island and Rafe seeks asylum in the bar she works at.

Author's Note: Hello! Wanted to say thank you for all of the love on my last few writings. The idea of Rafe not realizing he's falling in love, especially with someone he shouldn't, is so personal to me and honestly what made me create this blog in the first place - so here we go! This will be somewhat of a slow burn, friends-to-lovers-ish piece and I can't wait to hear what you all think! Likes and reblogs are obviously welcomed as well as any requests or questions (related to this fic or otherwise - I love drabbling about this man and will write about anything). Enjoy!

It was a rainy night when she first saw him. She was wiping down the counter top with a slightly mildewed rag when the door chime rang, signaling his entrance. He settled into the barstool furthest from the door, almost as if he was hiding from something. Prior to just now, she had been alone in the shitty, oceanside bar that threatened to capsize any day now. She liked it better this way, empty and quiet. Could play her own music, move at her own pace, even close up a little early if she got lucky.

She noticed immediately that he seemed out of his element, like he knew he shouldn't be here. Although she'd only moved here a few months ago, she'd gotten quite good at deciphering pogues from kooks. This man was no pogue. He'd tried to disguise himself - toned arms adorned in a knitted sweater covered in tiny beads of the salty rain. His jeans were tattered, but not from being worn out and washed a million times; like they were manufactured precisely to look like they'd been through hours of tough labor and dirt. What ultimately gave it away was his watch - she'd never seen metal reflect that brightly even in the shitty, yellow glow of the overhead lamps that hung above her. It had to be worth a good chunk of change.

He looked exhausted, stressed, tired, something like that. She knew that feeling. It had been hard starting over here on the island. It had been 3 months since she'd moved into the quaint townhouse further inland, away from most of the liveliness of the city. Making friends had proved to be quite difficult and she'd only just now managed to afford the sofa for her living room that she wanted.

She wasn't sure why, but she was nervous to approach him. He seemed important. Or intimidating at the very least, she wasn't sure. She walked quietly towards him, afraid to even disturb him with her footsteps. Baby blue eyes reach hers before she can greet him.

"Whiskey," he breaks the silence, fingers tapping on the warped wood of the bar top, "Neat."

Chewing on the inside of her lip, she offered him an empathetic smile and nod before turning to face the wall of liquor that lined the shelves.

"You seem out of place," she pointed out, her fingers wrapping around the thick glass bottle to remove the stopper.

"What makes you say that?" the man inquired, eyes pointed down and looking at the rings of water stains from all of the patrons that came here before him.

"Not that hard to tell. You keep bouncing your leg up and down like you're about to pounce and while you seem unassuming in that outfit, I can tell that that sweater is pretty expensive. Maybe it's the cologne, kinda hit me in the face as soon as you walked in. Could be the watch, too. I'm no expert but I think -"

"Okay, I get it," he cut her off with a chuckle as she slid his poison of choice towards him, "Kook caught in pogue territory."

She takes note of the disingenuous look on his face. He seemed to stiffen in his seat.

"You know I only moved here a couple of months ago, but I've noticed you people are obsessed with choosing sides," she thinks aloud, "Why the need to be so divisive?"

He chewed on her words while the thick, amber-colored nectar sloshed between his cheeks.

"Don't know honestly. You raise a fair question," he leans back in the stool, arm moving to drape across the one next to him.

She tried not to stare while she continued to wipe down the rest of the bar. Really, she should leave him alone she thinks. God only knows what kind of power this man holds and what he could do. Who was she to pry?

"Why did you come here to hide, then?" she asked. Fuck it.

The sun-kissed, stoic man across from her inhaled deeply through his nostrils and exhaled through his lips, tongue tracing the bottom of his teeth.

She thinks she's made a royal mistake before, surprisingly, he answers.

"Just wanted to go somewhere where people don't ask questions," he stated, his eyes meeting hers for a split second before focusing back to his drink that was nearing its end.

Heat crept up to her ears and her stomach turned in embarrassment.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, "I'm sorry. I'll leave you be."

Her attention diverted back to her closing duties - refilling cocktail napkins and changing over the cooler filled with cut up fruits.

"It's alright," the man smiled as his fingers circled the rim of his glass, "Kinda nice to talk to someone that doesn't need something from me or needs me to fix something."

He notices the way her lips turn down slightly. She felt bad for him.

"You said you just moved here?" he continued.

"Y-yeah. Back in the spring," she stuttered, a sigh of relief taking over when she realized she hadn't ruined his evening.

"Where are you staying?"

"Um, bit of a commuter. I live a few miles inland so I think that marks me safe from the kooks and pogues war," she toyed.

He laughed at her, chest rising and falling with each chuckle.

"Guess it does. You liking it so far?" he asked, genuine curiosity laced in his words.

"It's alright. I mean, I've always loved the beach and the place I found was pretty cheap. Just wanted to get out of where I was before and see what sticks I guess."

The man nods in agreement, silently pondering what it would be like if he did the same. He'd had the impulse so many times. Just pack up and leave. But he's not that bold he thinks. A part of him is scared he won't mean anything to anyone if he steps foot off of Figure Eight.

"Seems nice. You on your Rumspringa or something?"

The woman standing across from him laughed loudly, caught off guard by his jest. Her cheeks flushed and glowing in the dingy lighting of the bar. They really needed to change the bulbs on the overheads.

"Something like that."

He's laughing at his own joke, relishing in the fact that he's made her smile. He's not sure why, but her laugh latches onto him, like the warm sun that bakes his shoulders on a hot and sunny afternoon. He likes it.

"It's really not all that bad at the end of the day," the man says in earnest, "Aside from the...societal tensions, for lack of a better word. It's a really beautiful island."

She's staring at him now. Initially, and shamefully, she'd assumed he was a prick. His kind had stumbled into this bar on occasion and they usually weren't very nice or talkative. They'd run up a tab, speak loudly and vulgarly about a business partner or a girl for hours before stumbling out of the door without tipping. But he seemed different. Like he'd been longing for a conversation that wasn't about closing a deal or for someone to genuinely just ask him how he was. There was something so human behind the eyes of someone you'd expect to be anything but.

"It is," she agreed, smiling at him sweetly, "You need another?"

He hadn't even realized his drink was empty.

Just before he could answer yes, the chime of a cell phone pierced the walls of the bar.

"Sorry," the man huffed, pulling the sleek, black phone from the pocket of his jacket that hung on the back of his stool.

His eyes grew heavy and he sighed when processed the contents of the message, hands moving to run across the lower half of his face in frustration.

"I actually gotta head out," he seemed disappointed when he spoke, now reaching for his wallet that was tucked away in the same pocket. "Is it always this dead in here?"

"More or less," she answered, "It's nice having the place to myself sometimes."

He grinned as she took his card from him. As she walked to the register, she glanced quickly at the name embossed on the plastic. Rafe Cameron.

"I bet," Rafe agreed. "Hard to find that around here these days. Guess I'll add it to my list of hiding spots."

The woman smiled coyly as she slid the clipboard towards him, card, pen, and receipt attached to the hinges.

"You know," she started, "We usually close the patio at 7, but if you ever need some quiet I won't tell anyone."

His eyes locked with hers for a brief second before moving to the receipt, signing his name with an unrecognizable scribble before standing up to redress himself with his coat. He smirked down at his feet, a hint of bewilderment taking over. Why was she being so nice to him? he thought.

He pressed his lips together, pretending to lock them with an imaginary key and patting his chest. Her "secret" was safe with him.

"Have a good rest of your night, Rafe Cameron," she said with a grin.

She's met with a similar smile, a slight dimple forming on the left side of his cheek.

"You too..," Rafe's eyebrow turning up in question.

"Y/N."

He nodded, feet trailing towards the dry rotted front door that inched towards collapse each time it swung on its hinges.

"Have a good night, Y/N," he stated before ducking out of the bar and back into the cool drizzle of the rain.

She went on about her night, grabbing Rafe's glass and placing it in a carton to be hauled off to the dishwasher in the back. Assuming that the rain had scared off any future customers, she decided to close up early and head home to her furry friend that was probably begging for some cuddles and neck scratches.

As she was balancing the drawer in her register, she looked at Rafe's receipt. He'd tipped her triple the cost of the whiskey. Chuckling silently to herself, she wondered if she'd ever see him again. Someone by law of the land she should probably be weary of, Y/N thought she wouldn't mind having someone like Rafe Cameron around.

[slippinmickeys]

CHAPTER ONE (1/16):

Not far above the pavement of US-220, the forest dripped. The rain was gentle but steady, the highway as black and slick as a surfacing seal. Ahead, they could just make out the panning red and blue lights of a tangle of squad cars. The trees that edged the roadway pushed in and down, oppressive as low-hanging clouds. Beside her, Mulder sighed. 

They’d been awoken early by a call from a Sheriff three counties down and four over, who’d heard of Mulder by reputation. They had a body and a bit of a situation and would he and his partner come take a look? It was the first time that Scully had stayed over, and she’d felt embarrassed that she was there when the call came in though it wasn’t as though either of them had trumpeted her presence. She’d rolled out of bed and refused to meet his eye as he hung up on the Sheriff and dialed Skinner. 

Later, when he walked into his kitchen, dressed and shaven, he’d said, “Listen, Scully, if you regret what we’ve been—” 

“I don’t,” she interrupted him, handing him a steaming mug of coffee and finally bringing her eyes to his. “I don’t.” 

“Mea cuppa,” he’d said quietly, raising the brew to his lips. She’d been forced to smile at the pun.

It hadn’t been fair of her to seduce him, though it had been a glacial, intellectual courtship, inevitable, really, in every sense of the word. Mulder was tender-hearted and obsessive and after their second time together, she should have known that no amount of her stoicism or sense of workplace propriety would keep them from wanting to be together all the time. Last night, she’d had a foot out the door and was pushing him away with one hand and pulling him back with the other, his fingers tangled in her hair in rapacious bliss. 

They still weren’t sure how to be with each other, and that morning they’d walked down to Mulder’s car in a loaded, restless silence. 

Mulder eased up on the gas as they approached the cluster of khaki police cruisers and cut the windshield wipers. There were deputies leaning against hoods, wearing those ridiculous plastic rain beanies over their service caps and trying to appear important. Mulder pulled over, parking haphazardly on the berm, and looked out his window where a small inland lake spread out to the east and west, the body they’d come to investigate prostrate under a blue tarp on top of a thin strip of dark, mealy sand. 

They got out of the car and the Sheriff, holding a large black golf umbrella, pushed his way through his men, stepping up to Mulder and holding out a hand. 

“Thanks for coming,” the man said by way of greeting, and Mulder nodded toward him and introduced him to Scully.

“Call came in this morning,” the Sheriff said after trading introductions. “Dog walker found him.” He turned to one of the deputies, a younger man with blond eyebrows and a pixie-ish nose, freckles smattered over the bridge of it. “Avery, you got the file?”

Deputy Avery stepped forward. “Right here, sir,” the younger man said, handing over a beat up file folder—a brown, vintage-looking thing with a faux-wood finish. He gave the two agents a friendly smile and stepped back. 

Scully nodded at the folder now gripped in the Sheriff’s hand. “You got an ID?”

The Sheriff sort of shook his head and nodded at the same time. “That’s why we called you out,” he said, handing over the file. “No apparent cause of death,” he added as an afterthought. “Forensic unit out of Richmond are on their way.”

Mulder flipped the file open and read for a moment before looking back up. “Daly Carmichael. Missing persons?” The older man nodded, looking uncomfortable. “Must feel good to close such a cold case,” Mulder went on before looking back down at the paperwork. Scully leaned over to get a look at it. The victim was male, was in his early twenties when he’d gone missing in 1974, last seen wearing white sneakers and jeans and a yellow striped top.

“You’re confident of the identification?” she asked dubiously, ‘74 being a quarter of a century past.

The Sheriff swallowed. “There was no ID on the body, but…we’re pretty confident.”

Mulder flipped the file closed. “Let’s take a look,” he said. 

“Andy!” The Sheriff called out, and a deputy who had been standing near the tarp-covered body waved back. “Andy was first on scene,” he said to the two agents. 

Mulder noticed that when he and Scully began to pick their way down the embankment towards the small beach, none of the members of the sheriff’s department joined them.

As they approached, Mulder got a better look at Andy the deputy, who barely looked old enough to drive. It was likely he’d pulled corpse-sitting duties in an act of hazing. His arms were crossed over his chest while the walkie clipped to his shoulder gave a steady susurration of dispatch chatter. He gave off an air of indifference, but he was plowing through a stick of gum, working his tongue at it elaborately, snapping it nervously through his teeth. 

“What time did the call come in?” Scully asked, crouching down next to the body, her knees softly popping. 

“About six am,” he answered, then added, “ma’am.”

“Someone walking their dog, the sheriff said?” She lifted up a corner of the tarp to get a look at the victim’s face. Mulder watched as her eyebrows furrowed into a chevron of confusion.

The deputy nodded, continuing to gnaw on his gum, and hooked his thumbs through his shiny utility belt. 

Mulder noted pawprints and the shoe prints of the dog walker who’d found the body. The sand underneath them was damp, but firm, and showed only a few other prints, all of them looking to be standard police-issue. 

A couple of bright green leaves cartwheeled across the marks, propelled by a gust of wind, one of them briefly catching on the deputy’s shoe before going on its merry way.

“Did you examine the body?” Mulder asked him, finally looking up.

“There was no pulse, no ID on him,” the deputy replied. 

“How did you—”

“Hey Mulder?” There was a sharpness to her tone that made Mulder stop talking. “Can you take a look here?”

Scully peeled back the corner of the tarp, revealing a young-looking man with dark hair. He was dressed in jeans, white tennis shoes and a yellow striped tee shirt. He couldn’t have been more than twenty-five. Mulder glanced down at his hand, which was still holding the archaic looking missing persons file. “Huh,” he said. Scully reached up and touched his wrist, finding his pulse suddenly beating rabbit-quick. 

“If you don’t mind,” the deputy said, clearing his throat. “I’m going to…” He hooked a thumb up toward the rest of his compatriots and beat a hasty retreat.

“Those clothes don’t look twenty years old,” Mulder said. 

“Twenty-six,” Scully corrected, still hunched close to the ground. “Can I see the file?” Mulder handed it over without a word, and Scully flipped through it quickly, her eyes scanning the contents. 

“This can’t be right,” she said.  

Mulder shrugged. “Let’s ignore that particular elephant in the room, and see what else we find,” he suggested, and gave Scully a moment to collect her thoughts. “What can you tell me about the body?”

Scully turned back to the victim in front of them.

“Lividity isn’t fixed. Temperature is more difficult with the weather and exposure. I’ll have a better idea on the time of death after the autopsy.”

“Anything else?”

“Well, the victim appears to be male. Cursory examination, I’d say he’s early twenties, if that.” With this, she shot him a look. “No obvious cause of death, though I suspect drowning. He’s on the shore. His clothes are wet.”

“It has been raining,” Mulder said, snapping on a pair of latex gloves that he’d produced from his pocket. He leaned down and started unlacing the man’s shoes. 

“Mulder, we should wait until the forensics unit can come in and process the scene.” 

“I just want to check something, before the rain gets any worse,” he said, and carefully removed the victim’s shoe. He pointed to the top of the man’s foot. “Look,” he said, and Scully had to bend down to look at what he was trying to show her. The sock on top of the man’s foot was dry. He hadn’t been submerged in the lake. 

Mulder carefully put the shoe back on, and moved to reach inside the man’s pockets. 

“The deputy said there was no ID on him,” Scully reminded him. 

“I want to know what else is in here,” Mulder said, and pulled his hand back, producing several gold coins and a small dark rock.

He flipped them all over in his rubber-covered palm. “Odd markings,” he observed, looking at the coins. 

Scully leaned in to look. There were faces on the coins, but not the profiles of presidents or queens or even Caesars. They were clearly old, the etchings worn down, but she could still make out faces; some laughing, some looking angry, one wearing a crown of leaves and looking ghoulish. “I don’t see a country of origin,” she said. “They could be archaic. Maybe he was a collector.”

Mulder gave her a sideways glance but didn’t reply. The rain had turned to more of a mist and was curling the hair around her face, lending her beauty a neoclassical verve. He had to stop himself from reaching out to touch it.

“What’s the rock?” Scully asked, reaching forward to graze it lightly with her finger. 

“I think,” Mulder said, squinting at it. “I think it’s an ingot of iron.”

Mulder looked up and out around the lake and trees that surrounded it. There were no waves to speak of, but above the water was a line of algae in an undulating, unending rope, lying along the sand where the water had pushed it when the wind was stronger. The shore was dotted with round, smooth stones and the sharp carapaces of invasive zebra mussels. Twenty yards beyond the body, Mulder could see a child’s abandoned plastic bucket with no handle, and closer to the corpse, a beer bottle with a faded orange label. The hem of the forest looked impenetrable, the edge a solid mass of thick cedar and bracken with one small opening due east of where they stood, as dark and forbidding as the mouth of a cave. Mulder gave an involuntary shudder and turned back to his partner. 

“Okay,” he said, turning to her. “Let’s talk about the elephant.”

“Our victim appears not to have aged since 1974,” Scully sighed. 

“My kind of case,” Mulder smiled.

“Our kind,” she corrected, which widened his grin considerably. 

“What do you know about the fae, Scully?”

Good Christ, he had a theory already, Scully thought. 

“Probably a whole lot less than I will five minutes from now,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest and settling in. After a moment, she realized he was waiting for her to actually answer, but she was having none of it; she knew the precise trajectory of his thoughts. “You think this man was taken by fairies, Mulder? That’s a stretch, even for you.”

“It’s been suggested that fairies live in dimensions parallel to our own. String theory posits that there are up to ten or eleven dimensions that exist in the universe, not just the four we humans experience. We can move within those four dimensions. Who’s to say other beings can’t move among more? Or move us with them?”

“So this man hasn’t aged because he went to live with the fairies? Mulder, string theory smooths out the mathematical inconsistencies that currently exist between quantum mechanics and the theory of relativity. Yes, there may be other dimensions we can’t see, but time—one of those dimensions that we can measure—only moves one way: forward.”

“Doesn’t the theory of relativity posit that time slows when you’re moving faster than the speed of light?” Scully heaved a sigh. Only Mulder would pick a physics fight with her. “Eminent theosophist E. L. Gardner likened fairies to butterflies, whose function was to provide an essential link between the energy of the sun and the plants of Earth. They would travel between. He claimed that growth of a plant which we regard as the customary and inevitable result of associating the three factors of sun, seed, and soil would never take place if, and I quote ‘the fairy builders were absent.’”

“Please don’t tell me that you’re about to suggest that fairies are actually aliens. And that they’ve found a way to travel faster than the speed of light.”

“You said it, not me.” 

“Mulder!”

“What?” 

“Little gray men are a far cry from ethereal sprites who use protective charms and mischievously lead travelers astray. You can’t have it both ways.”

“I’m not trying to have it any way, I’m merely suggesting avenues of inquiry lining up with the facts of the case as we have them. Anyway, Gardner described fairies as having no clean-cut shape but rather ‘small, hazy, and somewhat luminous clouds of color with a brighter sparkish nucleus.’”

“You’re describing a proton.”

“So was he,” Mulder shrugged. “But taking away the strange coins and the ingot of iron—historically believed to repel fairies, I might add—how do you account for the fact that this man hasn’t aged in over twenty years?”

“Good genes?”

“The only person I know with genes that good is you. And don’t you have Celtic forebears?”

Scully blushed. It wasn’t fair, flirting. Their relationship was new, and their romance improbable.

Mulder threw a look up to the local law enforcement leaning against their vehicles and watching them work. He reached out and squeezed Scully’s hand once. She looked at him with the same kind of embarrassed moue as when a stranger's dog sticks its nose in your crotch.

“I know this is hard for you,” he said, his voice low. 

“It’s fine,” she said, an old safeword. 

He remembered her sitting in her bed in the oncology ward, small and slight, as withered as a new chick emerging from a shell. Her eyes had been sunken and her small shoulders stuck out from beneath the hospital gown like wire coat hangers. I feel fine , she’d said. 

Mulder felt her skin’s warmth before releasing her hand and he walked over to the bottle of beer, picking it up and turning it so that he could read the label. “Huh,” he said, holding it up so that Scully could see it. “Oberon.”

“What?”

“The kind of beer. Bell’s Brewery. It’s called ‘Oberon.’”

“The king of the fairies?” Scully said dubiously. 

Mulder shrugged once again, and she sighed. “Leave it where it is,” she said, casting another glance at the local boys in brown. “Let the forensics unit bag it.”

A big blue van had just pulled up behind their fleet sedan. The team from Richmond had arrived.

Mulder set the bottle carefully back down where he found it. When he straightened, he looked towards the forest and could have sworn that the hole through the bracken of the woods looked bigger than it had a few minutes before. He took a few steps toward it.

“Mulder?” called out his partner. 

“I just want to check something out,” he called over his shoulder without looking back. 

The forest was restless, the tops of the trees agitated and shivering. 

A thought occurred to him and he turned around. “You want to come with me?” 

The look she gave him communicated quite clearly that she did not, but she turned to follow him nonetheless, another sigh passing between her lips in a steamy vapor. 

“Look,” she said, pointing forward toward the trees when she reached his side. “There are footprints coming out.”

Mulder peered down. Sure enough, there was one set of human footprints leading from the dark opening, the edges of the prints crumbly and ill defined from the rain. 

They traded a glance and went in.

[nikaandtea]

jayvik deep dive

i've been off tumblr for so long, but I must now make my return after this finale because HOLYYYYY (of course, arcane s2 spoilers below)

first off i'd like to preface this by saying that this will be all over the place, as I'm kind of spewing out my thoughts. These two have been my main ship since the very beginning of the show, ever since Viktor became the reason that Jayce pursued hextech. This entire finale I was sitting there with my jaw on the GROUND. We see Viktor's insecurity well back in season one, and that's no surprise. He refuses to walk the stage with Jayce to represent their shared research, he doesn't want to be a bother to the other's uprise in success. But Jayce always was tender and kind to Viktor. When everyone else seemed to brush him off, Jayce saw the determined man within. The night they met and intially made the big breakthrough made Jayce forever bonded to that will and passion within Viktor. He never saw him as an ill man who did science, he saw him as a scientist that was also unfortunately ill. Jayce's world collapsed (i mean just look at his eyes) when he saw Viktor motionless after the explosion. There is NOTHING brotherly about spending days trying to desperately bring him back to life, and growing teary eyed once he returns to him alive. The parrallels between Mel and Viktor as well. Now as for their final encounter in the realm in the end of episode 9, oh boy. The concept of Viktor finding Jayce in countless lifetimes, putting a puzzle together and never seeming to have one final piece for it. Not knowing the only, again, ONLY person who can give that piece; is Jayce himself. Neither of them could finish their journey. Their affection held them together until the very end. Jayce saying how Viktor was always obsessed on fixing the wrongs within himself and helping other do the same. How in the end, Jayce never saw them as that. He saw them only as things that came together to *be* Viktor. The eventually trust you see in Viktor's eyes. "Why do you persist, after everything I've done?" "Because I promised.". They were obviously so terrified of what was going to happen to them, but they had each other. When Viktor was trying to chase greatness, Jayce was chasing after him. It's such a raw display of emotions and connection between them. Viktor softly rubbing Jayce's arm as they go into the unknown, Jayce's hand around his neck. Oh how I wish I could experienece Viktor actually *feeling* Jayce's embrace after being alone for so long. Also the fact that Sky's presence now makes SO much sense, because she knew Viktor wasn't going to miss her. Because she isn't what made Viktor whole, it was Jayce, always. They love each other in every form. They find each other in every universe.

I also want to say they definitely kissed but the budget didn't allow it. It happened, though.

Fanart soon!

[rose24207]

The heir‘s weakness

Summary: there is only one person who can crack Lando’s shell infront of his men

Genre: Mafia!Lando AU, fluff

TW: Mafia, mentions of guns (I think)

A/N: Not really happy with it :( English is not my first language. I hope you like it though! Requests are open and welcomed!

Masterlist

Lando Norris was known for many things—his calm demeanor, his sharp mind, and his ability to strike fear into anyone who crossed him. As the heir to one of the most powerful mafia families in Europe, he had everything under control. His men respected him, his enemies feared him, and anyone who dared to stand in his way learned quickly that it was better to stay out of his sight.

But there was one person who had completely undone him. One person who made him lose his composure every single time. And that person was you.

You hadn’t planned on becoming involved with a man like Lando. Hell, you didn’t even know who he was when you first met. You had just moved to the city to escape a mundane life and had ended up working at a little coffee shop near one of the wealthiest parts of town. It was a chance encounter, a quick conversation, and then Lando was gone. But he came back the next day, and the next. And the next. Eventually, he became a regular, ordering the same black coffee every time, and giving you the same charming smile that made your heart skip a beat.

At first, you thought he was just a guy with a lot of money and a bit of arrogance. But then, one day, when the cafe was dead quiet and you found yourselves alone, Lando had said something that made your blood run cold—“I’ll make sure you’re always taken care of, love. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

You had no idea what he meant at the time, but over the next few weeks, it became clear: Lando Norris wasn’t just some rich guy who liked his coffee. He was someone—someone dangerous.

His men were always around, in the shadows, looking at you with eyes that seemed to watch your every move. But you couldn’t bring yourself to stay away. There was something about Lando—the way he looked at you, the way he made you feel special, like you were the only one who mattered.

But what you didn’t know was that Lando was already obsessed with you. And no one, not even his loyal men, had any idea just how deep his feelings for you ran.

It all started on a cold Friday evening, when Lando invited you to one of his “business meetings,” which you quickly learned was his way of pulling you into his world. It was a private affair, held in one of his family’s most luxurious properties, and you couldn’t help but feel out of place in the sea of expensive suits and cold, calculating stares.

But when you entered the large room, filled with his men, Lando’s eyes locked onto yours. The corners of his lips twitched upward into that signature smile you’d come to know all too well.

“Ah, there she is,” he said loudly enough for the room to hear, his voice warm and inviting, though there was a darker undertone that sent a ripple through the group. “The most beautiful woman in the room, as always.”

The men, who were normally stoic and unwavering, exchanged confused glances, their eyes darting between you and Lando. They weren’t used to him acting so openly. His usual composed nature had always been something that earned their respect—and his control over his emotions was something they admired. But now… now they were seeing something entirely different.

You smiled awkwardly, but before you could respond, Lando was already making his way over to you, his tall frame cutting through the crowd effortlessly. He reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours lightly, sending an unexpected jolt of warmth through your chest.

“You look stunning tonight,” he whispered, leaning in just close enough for only you to hear.

You felt a blush creep up your neck, and for once, you weren’t sure how to handle his attention. There was something about the way he said it, something in his eyes that made you feel like you were the only person in the room.

As Lando led you to a table in the far corner, all eyes in the room remained on the two of you. His men were no fools; they watched every movement, taking in the way Lando spoke to you with an affection that was foreign to them. They were used to seeing him in complete control—calm, collected, and untouchable. But now, with you by his side, everything had shifted.

Lando took a seat, and without asking, pulled the chair next to him out for you. “Please, sit,” he said, his voice low and almost possessive.

You hesitated for only a moment before you sat down, trying to steady your nerves. But then, something caught your attention: the men.

They weren’t looking at Lando the way they usually did. Normally, when they spoke to him, it was with a level of respect and reverence. But now? Now, they looked confused, almost flabbergasted. Some of them glanced at each other, muttering under their breath, while others stood with their mouths slightly agape. It was as if they couldn’t believe what they were seeing.

Lando was never like this. No one made him blush. No one made him lose his cool in front of his own men. But you? You had completely undone him.

One of the men, a towering figure with a scar across his face, leaned in to whisper to the person next to him. “Is he actually blushing?”

The man he was speaking to, clearly just as taken aback, gave a small shrug. “I’ve never seen him like this before. She must really mean something to him.”

Lando heard the whispers but chose not to address them. He couldn’t bring himself to break eye contact with you. You were everything he wanted, everything he’d been silently watching from afar for so long. And now that you were in his world—his real world—nothing, no one, was going to tear you away from him.

The meeting carried on, but you could tell that it wasn’t the same for Lando. Every so often, he would glance your way, his gaze softening when he saw the way you fidgeted nervously in the chair, trying to fit in with a world you never asked for.

And then, in the middle of the meeting, something happened that no one could have anticipated.

Lando, completely uncharacteristically, reached out and gently placed his hand on yours. It wasn’t an act of power. It wasn’t to assert dominance over the room. No, this was something else entirely.

His hand rested on yours for just a moment, and you could see the way his fingers tightened around your skin, his lips curving into a subtle smile.

“You’re safe here,” he whispered to you, just loud enough for you to hear, but the men in the room were still looking on, stunned.

One of them, a grizzled veteran with years of experience, cleared his throat and muttered, “This is different.”

Lando’s men were beginning to understand: You weren’t just another fling. You were his. And that realization hit them all like a ton of bricks.

But for you, the evening had only just begun. You were still trying to process what was happening, still unsure of just how deeply you had gotten tangled in the web that was Lando’s world.

But there was one thing you did know: You were under his protection. And when it came to Lando Norris, that meant you were untouchable.

The men may have been shocked by the way he looked at you, but Lando’s feelings were crystal clear. He didn’t care what they thought. You had completely captivated him, and for the first time in his life, he was willing to let them see it.

And no one—no one—was going to take you away from him.

Thank you for reading!

[evansbuck-ley]

I have become obsessed with the Henry verse!! It's so cute it makes my heart melt! I was just wondering what's Henry's reaction to being a big brother now??

oh henry is obsessed with rosie

so the day that she was surrounded at the fire station henry was with his grampy bobby. they had been busy all afternoon in bobby’s vegetable garden so henry was completely clueless to what his dads were getting up to back at the 118. it wasn’t until much later he started getting an inkly that something was going on, bc he’s 5 and a half now, he was a clever boy. bobby excused himself from dinner and went into the other room to answer his phone. henry could hear mumbles from the other room but athena was still sat there doing her best to distract him.

when bobby came back to the kitchen he announced, sleep over and henry was thrilled bc more time with grampy bobby!! after dinner bobby tucked him into bed and told him that they were going to meet someone very special the next day and henry was beyond excited.

the next day bobby drives them to the hospital, buck and tommy still had paper work to fill out and a social worker had to do a home visit before they could take her home. when bobby carried henry into the small private room that the one of the nurses had set up for them, the boy was practically vibrating. bobby put henry down on the floor and took off running to where his daddy was sat cradling rosie. tommy scooped him up before he had the chance to collide into bucks legs.

they tell her she is his baby sister and henry just starts gushing over her, when is she coming home daddy? can i hold her? she’s so little daddy. do you think she will come and watch the monster trucks with us and uncle eddie papa?

as they grow up henry’s is just as obsessed, he’s her protector, her first best friend. he plays princess with her when she’s four, he help her with her math homework when she’s six, he’s there when she gets her heart broken for the first time when she’s 13. he loves her as much as a big brother can love his littler sister.

[thedepressedjuggalette]

Arcane is a GOTHIC Show.

No, not Goth like Goth music, I mean GOTHIC as in Gothic Literature like Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, Robert Louis Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, or literally anything written by Edgar Allen Poe.

I am dead ass serious. Or maybe I'm just insane.(Spoilers ahead!!!)

Now it is okay if you didn't pick up on this, I am just one of those extremely weird kids that grew up reading Gothic Literature so much that it was almost an unhealthy obsession so I kind of spotted this within the first 6 episodes of the first season.

Now if you don't believe me when I say that Arcane is Gothic in nature I need to ask you this:

Did Arcane ask these simple questions:

What does it mean to be human?

What defines humanity?

When is a person too far gone?

Can grief ruin a person?

Can trying to help others turn to destroying others?

And can obsession turn to madness?

These specific questions are the very questions I've noticed pop up a LOT in OLD SCHOOL Gothic literature.

For instance Viktor is a lot like Viktor Frankenstein and Dr. Jekyll (more so Dr. Jekyll) in the sense that he slowly loses his humanity the further he pushes his research before finally falling to a destructive path. He quite literally loses himself to his own research and by his own research subject.

Singed (Dr. Ravick) is more Viktor Frankenstein than anything else. So obsessed with bringing the dead back to life. But whereas Frankenstein was obsessed with the idea of it that he never thought if he should. Singed found it merely to be nothing more than an illness needing to be cured because he couldn't stand the idea of losing his daughter.

Gothic Literature came out after the Romantic Literature Era, however in the Romantic Literature Era a lot of writers were protesting workplace mistreatment such as forcing children into working in coal mines and cleaning chimneys, along with the obsession of nature, Gothic Literature focused on the morality of Humanity, what it meant to be human and what defines us and how quickly a person can fall into insanity (aka mental health issues).

The first to start this was Mary Shelley over a small bet with her husband and several other authors. Her work was mortifying in comparison to the others because of what it forced the reader to think about.

Her work took place during the Enlightened Era where scientists were obsessed with Progress (Riot I fucking saw this shit coming, fuck you guys), and how if as a species can we become like god and make something from our own deaths and if we even should?

Shelley doesn't directly answer this but we actively see through her writing the death of a god -- Viktor Frankenstein -- because Adam (the monster) views his creator with contempt and disgust and thus demands his Eve despite Frankenstein's reluctance.

Can you imagine what Vander would've thought of Singed?

Can we really say that Vander would not view Singed as both his Savior and Destroyer. Can we even call Vander human? Or is he something else entirely? We can't call him a werewolf in the traditional sense, so what truly is he? He is the Adam of a species not meant to exist. Is he even Vander anymore or is he truly Warwick?

A lot of Poe's writing is very much about madness and grief. Well... To me anyways, it could just be my obsession with his poem The Raven (it reminds me of my great grandmother).

And I've personally in my own life seen how grief can destroy a person physically -- their despair destroying their physical health because that person feels their life died with that person. And I fear every day for my grandma to head down the same path that her sisters are when they pass.

But it's the mentality that the more subtle and at the same time the most extravagant thing to be destroyed through grief.

We see this repeatedly with Jinx and Vi.

They lost their stability the moment that their brothers and Vander died, and when Jinx thought Vi was dead.

They had already lost their bio parents, so this was another nail in their coffins. However Vi had no idea if Jinx was alive or dead and thus had that to hold onto despite being beaten bloody in an unstable environment that is prison.

Jinx however had her grief and trauma constantly lectured into her and had to form her personality around it. She even comments on it in episode 9 of season 1. Silco didn't know how to be a dad, but he was trying his best but he was a grown ass man when he had his personality reformation unlike Jinx who was like 10.

Her grief was haunting her and ruining her mental health.

I had recently learned that psychotic depression is a thing.

With her guilt and grief and PTSD eating her alive she was bound to go the road she went down. But what truly killed Jinx was the death of Isha.

I want to make it clear that I don't view Jinx and Isha's relationship as sisterly. I view it as maternal due to the comparisons between her and Silco and Isha to Powder.

However the point still stands.

She, like Silco, could not stand the mere idea of their child being in any sort of life threatening situation -- especially dealing with enforcers -- and thus would jump to protect them. But they both fail at the end in many ways.

Vi literally stopping Jinx from getting Isha out of there, and Silco being unable to stop Vi from triggering Jinx's PTSD.

And there's one more thing about Jinx we need to address...

If there is one thing I know about bullying and brainwashing is that if you keep telling someone they're worthless etc. one day they're going to believe you, and you cannot be surprised they do and when they act accordingly. Especially when the victim is a child. This is why suicide in children and teens is so devastating and cannot be fixed with religion or weird as hell wrestlers or stupid manosphere podcasts.

We don't know how long Powder had to put up with Mylo's bullying of her, but telling by her reaction to and how the loudest and most negative voice she hears from her hallucinations is his voice... I'd have to say that it started from the moment they met up to his death and it was sealed when Vi hit her and called her a Jinx.

"Who truly made Jinx?" is a question that has been brought up by everyone and their mother by this point. Some agree with the character herself when she said that it was Vi. Others agree with Silco when Jinx stated that Silco thinks he made Jinx.

Some reading this might say "Oh my god was it Mylo???"

I disagree on all fronts.

There is one video essay I keep coming back to because anyone with any sense of media literacy will outright point this same shit out but not as... Artfully as the essay itself.

It is called "Arcane, a Monster Factory" and it starts out with a single statement:

"Piltover breaks people."

And ends with a terrifying statement:

"Sometimes when I can't sleep at night, I start to think that maybe Piltover is more realistic than I'd like to think..."

It wasn't a single person that made Jinx. It was the entire city.

I want to point to Episode 7 to show you what I mean.

Without the death of Grayson but instead the death of Vi and without the creation of Hextech and Silco choosing to forgive Vander, Powder herself changed for the better and never needed to become Jinx. Rather she focused her energy on helping everyone around her -- and not taking time for herself in the process but we've always seen this even in Jinx. She focused on helping Silco then jumped to just trying to destroy for the sake of destroying only to end up helping the under city without meaning to, only to help Isha, and never really helping herself.

No matter what she'd have liked to think, she could've done wonders. Viktor even said so himself. She could do a lot to help his commune with her talents.

Even said it when he was looking at her bomb for the first time, calling her work "inspired".

She is talented but her talents never got the chance to truly shine.

Imagine what she and Ekko could've done if they were able to attend Piltover's academy.

But as stated before, Piltover breaks people.

Piltover made Jinx.

And in a cruel twist of fate it made the two people who cared about her the most hold the blame for the city's actions.

The ending of Arcane was fumbled when it came to Jayce's speech to Viktor and I'll stand by that because it was the fault of Piltover for Viktor having a preventable disease and thus leading to his obsession with avoiding death and avoiding needless suffering.

But in this ending these two science husbands did ask the one question that truly defines Gothic Literature.

What does it mean to be human?

And it's answer is one that I am unsure about because no one can truly define the human experience. The experience of life. The grief. The pain. The love. The joy. All of it.

In my own fanfic for a completely different fandom I had two characters talk about emotions. One couldn't truly feel emotions while another could. It took me a long while to try to figure out how to answer the question of "What is it like to feel emotions?"

It's hard to answer, isn't it?

I did figure it out though, having to take a page out of Kindred's playbook. But it was one I was very satisfied with.

It is questions like these be them asked through subtle writing cues, or blatantly asked by the characters themselves, they define Gothic Literature to me.

Arcane is the beautiful marriage of Greek Tragedy and Gothic Literature.

[edgeray]

hello ray! This is my first time requesting! ( I have read ur request rules too since I don't wanna be rude) I have read ur dragon arlecchino x dragon hunter reader and it was absolutely beautiful!. But I have come to request another version of that (I hope u don't mind) but in this version reader isn't a dragon hunter but a dragon trainer (or like trains dragon) u can make any scenario of this if u want!

Ps- I have read (almost) everything u have wrote Nd all of those were masterpieces.

Btw can my anon emoji be 🦋?. I'm currently obsessed with how beautiful butterflies are just like ur work!.

Dragons are Stupid.

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Hello 🦋 anon! I know you sent this request a longgg time ago and I truly apologize for only just getting to this one. Thank you for your kind words <33. Also I really appreciate you reading my rules! Man, I miss writing these requests.  I won't be describing Arlecchino because I'm lazy and I also imagine that she looks the same in Dragon Hunter Mother, except she doesn't have three pairs of wings.

Content warnings / info - Dragon! Arlecchino, Dragon Trainor! Reader(?), could be seen as platonic bc no human form

In your quaint village, you were only twenty two when you became the first one to willingly leave–you wanted to explore beyond what your cozy town offered, despite all of the villagers’ protests. They told you that there were too many dangers that existed outside of the forest, but there was a buzzing inside of you that told you your purpose existed outside of the settlement. Reluctantly, you took off, but not without carrying a bit of something from every person in town. Your mother and father personally made you an entire portable cooking set, your aunt and uncle having crafted their most durable leather backpack yet, and from other families, packed homemade meals or tools. By the time you were ready to head out, you practically had enough food to feed six families. 

You were five days into your journey, simply traversing the thick forest and taking in all the sights. Your peaceful journey takes a turn when you notice in the distance trees that were partially or almost completely destroyed, their trunks broken entirely and falling onto the ground. The trees that are still standing are blackened and lacking their leaves–all of the vegetation around them are gone. 

Perhaps it was curiosity that drew you in or something else, but in any case, against your better reasoning, you decided to venture in. It didn't take long until you first encountered her. 

She was large, easily four times the height and many times the length of the largest creature you've seen beforehand (a bear, you later find out was the name of the animal). You had never seen anything like her before. Her sleeping form was so still, you would have mistaken her for a large boulder if not for the rumbling that came from her. If she was this massive while lying down, how much taller would she be if she was standing up. 

At that moment, every thought in your head told you to run away. Something that large would have no problem seriously harming or even killing you, even without malicious intentions. She could accidentally step on you, or one flick of her tail, and it would send you flying. Best not to wake up the beast. Unfortunately, or fortunately, you were too curious to scurry off, and circle around the sleeping dragon to examine its features. With one miscalculated step, your foot stepped onto a branch, emitting a loud snap that made you freeze in place. 

Instantaneously, the beast rose, a loud rumbling shaking the ground. Tumbling back onto the ground, all you could do was watch the towering creature approach you, their every step reverberating through the earth. Mouth agape and your expression aghast, there was some kind of pressure on your entire body that willed you still. The thumping organ in your chest resounded throughout your eardrums, deafening everything around you. 

Scarlet crossed pupils ensnared your gaze, and you were engulfed in those dark abysses. The massive being crept nearer and nearer until it stood just over you. With a deep huff, she maneuvered her head, sniffing at your backpack. A quick realization came to you as you recalled the food in your bag and hastily slid off your backpack straps to access the contents. The first thing food your hand grasped was a bagged loaf of bread, which you wrenched out and offered to her with an outstretched hand. Your hand couldn't stop trembling and you've closed your eyes, deciding against all your rationale to trust this strange creature. 

The bread was plucked gingerly by the creature's teeth and an audible gulp was heard. A coarse, solid texture pressed against your palm and when you opened your eyes, before you was a sight you couldn't imagine. The reptilian's snout was pressed against your hand, a soft resonance erupting from its throat–almost like a cat. In awe, you moved your hand across the snout and its scales, tracing along the indents with careful observation of the beast.

And at that moment, you think you've never seen a more beautiful creature.

Since then, Arlecchino (you had named her, and she begrudgingly accepted) had stuck with you, even when you ran out of packed food from your backpack. She was injured at the time, but at the first feeding you hadn't realized–only having seen the hole that pierced through one of her wings. You could only imagine that another dragon had caused that wound, like it had sunk its teeth in that area. The terrain you found Arlecchino in seemed to have been the battleground for that fight. 

Arlecchino could barely catch any food with her impaired wings, and it's likely she would have starved to die if she hadn't met you. Even then, it took her months for her wing to fully heal so that she could fly. It also didn't help that you were a novice adventurer–you barely knew how to hunt, fish, or gather any food in the wild. You had tried your best to provide her all that you could, and it was enough for her to live off on, despite sleeping for most of the day to preserve what little energy she got. Thankfully, the months had passed relatively quickly, Arlecchino providing you with no end of entertainment. 

“How do you always get tangled in the fishing nets? If you break another one, you can go catch fish on your own!” You yelled at the dragon as Arlecchino snarked back with an eyeroll, sweeping you off your feet with her tail. You fell into the creeks with a cry and cold water seeped into your clothes. You trudge your way back towards her, before kicking the water towards her. She blocks effortlessly with her wing, before fluttering her wing to flick back the water on you. 

“Archons, you're a terrible dragon!” You screamed with no real emotions behind it. With a quick tail swipe, your face was met with another blast of frigid water. 

You huffed, knowing that it was impossible to get back your revenge. You helped Arlecchino untangle her feet from the net, having Arlecchino hold one end of the net with her mouth. Traversing across the other side of the creek with the net, you waited for a steady school of fish to come your way. Not too long later, the two of you are able to heave out onto the bank a dozen or so fish. Arlecchino then goes to collect some firewood while you take out your knife to prepare your fish for consumption. 

As you're gutting the fish, all too smugly does Arlecchino dump the assortment of twigs and branches at your feet, accompanied with a good amount of saliva. You proceed to go into the creek for some peace to wash your feet while the dragon lights a fire on the branches. When you return, you shoot the reptilian a glare before piking your fish on a stick and setting it above the fire. 

The dragon lays beside the fire and you sit against her. You brushed your hand against her neck. “You're getting cranky, aren't you?” 

Arlecchino snorted. You assume that was a yes. “We can go pack up tomorrow and be out of here. If you save some fish, we could probably trade it to get you some beef, yeah?” 

The dragon doesn't react much, but from the swaying of her tail, the idea seems appealing to her. You chuckle. 

Vibrant red flickers across your face as dusk approaches. Your fish finishes cooking, the skin crispy and the flesh delicate. Your dinner becomes just that, paired with some bread and a few berries that you picked. Unsurprisingly, Arlecchino finishes four fish before you've reached fullness. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you warn as the expecting, deadpan look comes across the dragon's feature. “You can't finish my berries. And I'll give you the rest of my fish soon enough.” 

Arlecchino snarls and thumps her feet against the earth. The ground shakes and you couldn't be bothered. Typical tantrum.

You rip out a chunk of the cooked fish and offer it to her, outstretching your hand towards her mouth. As she unlatches her jaw, you cruelly pull away, popping the piece into your mouth with a wicked smile. Before you can start cackling, she lunges and wrenches your fish from your hand, stick and all. You gape at her as she chews and swallows, spitting out the stick that you used to hold the meat. 

“You–!”

Safe to say that humans can't wrestle dragons. You're knocked on your ass before you even knew you were. To rub it in, Arlecchino lets out a satisfied huff of smoke from her nostrils as you lay defeated underneath her tail. 

Stupid, stupid dragon. 

More A/N: Is it bad 😓? Yes. Cut me some slack, it's my first request in a while. 😭Anyways, I missed you guys. I'm on thanksgiving break, so I'm hoping to be able to get all the things I've wanted to write here, including some requests. I'll be working on requests all week (hopefully). I'll also be working on a lot of other ideas and I'm constantly thinking of new ones and it's so hard to focus on one. my main priority is my halloween event fic (alien! arlecchino) and because it's me, it's a beefy fic. again, I'll try to post more content, but most of them are gonna be tidbits/blurbs than full length fics. Requests will be paused until I finish about most of my requests (hopefully I finish all by/during winter break).

[call-sign-jinx]

Dave Lizewski - Limerence

summary - when you and dave are paired up for an english project, he asks you a question which makes you squirm

warnings - possible stalking? idk sorry, basic fluff,

Main Masterlist Dave Lizewski Masterlist

a/n - hiya gyals, i have been trying to find more than just 3 decent dave fanfics so i jus decided to write my own, ta ta my lovelies! xx

dave lizewski x fem!reader

Limerence. Noun. Meaning: the state of being infatuated or obsessed with another person, typically experienced involuntarily and characterised by a strong desire for reciprocation of one's feelings but not primarily for a sexual relationship.

This is the feeling I get when I think of Dave Lizewski. Nobody in school cares about him at all. They don't even look at him. Which I'm glad about because that means I get him all to myself. But he never looks at me. God I just want him to look at me, notice me, speak to me, something. But i get nothing.

It still baffles me how no one has tried to ask him out before. He is absolutely beautiful. In fact, ineffable. His brown curls frame his face amazingly. His blue eyes I could look into all day. And god his voice, it could lull me to sleep effortlessly. And his humour, he makes me silently laugh every time I overhear him say something at lunch to his friends.

My friends think I'm weird for thinking he's attractive. They call him a nerd and a weirdo because he reads comic books at that little cafe every day. But that's because they don't see what I see. And it's because they don't look at him as much as I do.

I have almost every class with him, because I found out which classes he chose and switched to them. And those lessons that I needed to get higher grades for, I studied as hard as I could so that I'd be able to move to Dave's classes. My friends call me a stalker but I just want to be closer to him.

Me and my friends are sitting at our usual table which I chose because it was right behind the table Dave usually sits at. My friends never noticed, not caring about anything other than their lunch and the conversations they're having. I never listen, I just look at Dave's features and try to hear what he's talking about. I see his friend turn around to look at me then says something to Dave.

Dave then leans to the side to look at me and I immediately hide my face with a book and blush so furiously you'd mistake me for a tomato. That was fucking embarrassing, I'd been staring that long his friend pointed it out to him. Fuck.

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I was in AP English, one of the classes I had to get my grades up for. I sat a seat to the left from Dave. I don't know what Ms. Somerset was talking about because all I was doing was doodling and trying to catch glances at Dave, while trying not to be obvious at the same time. But my ears perked up when I heard about a project we'd be doing in pairs. I prayed to God or whoever is up there that I'd be paired with Dave.

"Okay, I'm going to list the people that are going to be in pairs together. First, Holly you're with George. Grace with Vanessa. Zach with Jake. Y/N with Dave..." The teachers voice faded away as soon as I heard. My prayers had been answered. Thank you God!

I turned my head to look at Dave and he was already looking at me, we both smiled at each other then turned back towards the teacher.

"The project is going to be a presentation about the analysis of any piece of literature you want to do. Do it however you want it just needs to be a PowerPoint slideshow. Now everyone go sit with your partner and begin planning your presentations." Everyone got up and joined their partner and Dave came over and sat next to me.

"I never knew you were in AP English Y/N..." He felt a bit embarrassed after admitting that. A blush creeped up onto my face, well that's a bit embarrassing.

"I changed to this class about 5 months ago, I just never talk because none of my friends are in this class." I gave him a shy smile as Ms. Somerset handed us some coloured pens and a piece of paper to make a plan.

"You're in my Chem, Bio and Physics as well now that I think about it. And my History, Computer Science and Design Tech. You're in all my classes and I never noticed you before. Except at lunch or breaks, or when we walk home the same way. Don't you live a couple blocks from me?" Fuck... What if he connects the dots? And if he does what if he thinks I'm a freak?

"I wouldn't know, sorry." I gave him an awkward laugh and looked down to the paper.

"So what piece of literature should we choose? We could do something by Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Fitzgerald, Mark Twain?" It shocked me that Dave knew all those writers, mainly because all I've seen or heard about him reading was comic books.

"I say we do Emma by Jane Austen. I've read it a hundred times and I've already analysed it anyway so we just have to put it onto the presentation." Dave agreed and we planned out our presentation for the rest of the class.

When the bell rang, I gathered all my things and exited the classroom to go home. When I was a few steps out of the classroom, I heard someone call my name. It was Dave.

"I-I thought you could have my number, so that we can arrange to meet at each other's houses to work on the project. O-or we could work on it at the library. Whatever y-you're comfortable with." My heart could practically explode. Not only was he giving me his number, he was also possibly inviting over to his house!

"Yeah that'd be great." I gave him a bright smile. "We could go back to my house now? So that we can get the project over and done with, I hate having things that aren't finished yet."

"R-right now?" His cheeks flush a light pink. His eyes dart from my eyes to everything else around us.

"Yeah, you don't have to come over if you don't want to I don't want to make you uncomfortable." Fuck, I already feel like I'm screwing it up with him.

"N-no it's fine, I just didn't think you'd want me there. But yeah, let's go now." Inside, I was practically exploding. I have never felt such happiness until now. I fucking love Ms. Somerset!

We began walking out the school when my friends saw me walking with Dave. I saw them whispering and giggling to each other.

"Hey Y/N! What are you doing with him?" I felt anger run through me, why the fuck are they taking the piss out of him?

"We have a project we need to do so he's coming over to my house after school." I fake smiled at them and as soon as I turned away from them I had a disgusted look on my face. "Sorry about them Dave."

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As we came into my house, my dad immediately came into the hall and gave me a hug. He then turned to Dave and sized him up. I could see Dave squirming so I broke the silence.

"Dad, this is Dave. We're doing a project together in English." My dad narrowed his eyes at Dave and then his eyes widened with realisation and went to shake Dave's hand.

"So you're the Dave my princess talks about all the time!" I wanted the ground to swallow me whole and get the hell away from here. I've never wanted to be thrown into space in my whole entire life.

Dave looked at me in confusion and saw my uncomfortable demeanor.

"Right we're going upstairs, love you." I then dragged myself upstairs, Dave following close behind me and I led him to my room.

I sat myself at my desk and watched Dave as he looked around my room. I had vinyl records stuck to the wall along with different posters and tapestries. Fairy lights lined the frame of my bed. I also had a little table with a record player and a shelf specifically for my favourite records.

"Your room is really nice Y/N. I like your posters and lights." I looked around my room, I never actually took notice of it in all honesty.

"Thank you. I decorated it myself, I even designed the layout of my room when my dad helped build this place." Dave looked fascinated. I don't even know why.

"That's so cool, you got to choose how your room was shaped ad everything?" It was cute how he was so excited about something as little as room design.

"Yeah, plus my room is the biggest in the house. My dad let me have it cause he said he's barely going to be in his anyways cause he's working all the time. Surprised he's actually home right now." Dave smiled at me and looked around my room before we silently began our project.

I couldn't believe that Dave fucking Lizewski was in my room! I've liked him ever since I first saw him when I moved here in Sophomore year. As he was doing his work, I couldn't help but stare. He was so beautiful. The way his curls fell on his face, the way he slightly stuck out his tongue when he was concentrating on reading something. I was so lost in staring at him I didn't even realise that he was calling my name.

"Y/N!" I shook my head to get myself out of the trance I was in, he caught me fucking staring. Great.

"Yeah?" He smiled as he shook his head at me, not in a misdemeaning way though, in a "I find it kinda cute" way.

"What exactly are we analysing from Emma?" I went to sit down next to him on my bed and read what he was reading.

"I think we should analyse how Jane Austen represents class types within all the characters and how they act towards each other." I then looked to Dave who was already looking at me.

"Your eyes are really pretty..." Why the fuck did I just say that? Out of everything to come out of my mouth that is what I say? Dave's face turns a bright shade of red.

"Th-thank you, I really like your hair..." I had purple streaks in my hair. My dad screamed at me when he saw, but he then found them actually pretty.

"Thank you, when I first dyed it my dad went ballistic. Eventually he warmed up to them." Dave smiled at me, in a way I couldn't decipher.

"Do you like me?... Y/N?" Those words make my heart stop. Fuck. He's realised. He probably found out about me switching classes just to be with him, me staring at him all the time, my friends call it an obsession.

"Where did that come from?" I chuckle, trying to play it off.

"I've heard your friends talk about it, Todd told me today that you were staring at me. So I thought I'd ask you." This was actually quite bold of him, he always just stuck to either being quiet or just talking quietly with Todd and Marty.

"You find me weird don't you?" I leaned away from him, I didn't want him to look at me. Before right now, that was all I had hoped for and now it's the last thing I want.

"No, not at all actually. I find it cute. At first I was worried you wanted to kill me or something but when I saw your face light up when Ms. Somerset paired us up I had a feeling it wasn't because you wanted to kill me." Dave chuckled slightly, he smiled with only one side of his mouth and he looked so cute doing it.

"I thought I could actually hide it, guess I can't. I do like you Dave, and I know you have a crush on Katie so it's fine we can just pretend this never-" Dave cut me off by pressing his lips against mine. At first I was completely shocked but then I kissed him back. Oh my god I'm kissing Dave Lizewski!

I cupped his cheeks and pulled him on top of me and his hand found place on my waist. He didn't kiss me roughly like a couple guys have done before. He was gentle, more caring than lustful.

We both then pulled away and Dave had a big goofy smile, he was adorable.

"I don't like Katie, I mean I used to. But that was until I started seeing you sit next to our table at lunch and see you walk down the hallways with your friends..." A billion fireworks were going off in my head. I have never been happier.

"W-would you wanna go out on a date with me?" Oh my god, he wants to go out on a date with me!

"I would love to." I had a massive grin on my face. My dreams had come true.