#but there was no way to tell so i had to just go stand in that little area by the door

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

clark kent loves quietly

This is a collection of head canons I wrote with David!Clark in mind, but would really work for any Clark iteration. That teaser trailer did something to my brain

He knows that you hate being spooked, and his quiet footfalls have gotten the better of you more times than you would ever admit. When he comes home from a day of work, or finds you tucked into whatever you are working on, he purposefully makes sure that his footfalls are heavy, so that you hear him coming. You jump slightly when he notches his chin in the space between your head and shoulder, but he is quick to squeeze you tight and soothe them away. 

You would think that he tries to fight your battles for you, protection hard wired into his veins. But he’s much the opposite. He knows that you can take care of yourself (super-human threats excluded, of course) and is happy to watch you stand up for yourself. It’s nice to see you love yourself loudly by making your wishes known. 

This man can cook. He spent a lot of time with his mom in the kitchen, who used cooking to cope after his father passed. He absorbed every second of it, intent on making the memories last. Food is one of his love languages now. He will pick up your favorites if he is eating out, but when you are having a particularly hard day, he plops you down on the couch with your beverage of choice in hand, and insists you don’t move. You had assumed that cooking would be frustrating for him, all the super speed in the world can’t make onions caramelize faster, but he finds it so soothing- especially when he knows that you’re going to give him one of your big smiles, the kind saved just for him, at the end of it all. His specialties are casseroles and chilis and his mom’s fluffy biscuits, if you were wondering. 

Does his best to mind his business (keeping his super hearing off the speed of your heart) as long as you promise to let him know what is bothering you as soon as you’re comfortable. He hates to see you hurting, but also respects that sometimes you need to process on your own. It’s unspoken between the two of you, you’ll curl up with him when you’re ready and spill your guts, and he will have a super powered ear at the ready. 

Any of your accomplishments are office gossip for weeks, because he is telling everyone. A picture of you with the degree you finished several months into dating is framed on his desk, when you accept his proposal he finds ways to slip it into most conversations. You always blush, which fills him with pride. He insists it isn’t gossiping if it’s talking about yourself. You smile and resist the urge to point out that it is often more so about you. He views you as a singular unit in all things, and you can’t find it in yourself to complain.

Clark was simultaneously terrified when you figured out that he was the one flying around the city fighting super humans (and rescuing the occasional cat stuck in a tree), and not the least bit surprised. He has long considered you one of the smartest people that he has ever known. He chides himself for not preparing for it better. He stood speechless for several moments, before tripping over his words, a muddled confusion of explanation and apology. He calmed when you smiled shyly at him, approaching him like he might spook at any minute. He stilled, allowing you to take control of the situation and gently slip your hand into his. You squeezed, he squeezed back, and the rest was history.

[henry7931]

Chase:

Today is a really weird day and I didn’t know how I would feel about coming over to my best friend Bryce’s house especially after the incident.

Bryce and I have been friends for over 12 years now and him and I have always been a couple of scrawny gay nerds. We both love Minecraft legend of Zelda, just about every video game you can think of and one way we really bonded was figuring out that we are both gay.

Now for years, I’ve always known that Bryce had a crush on me. For me it was never that I didn’t like Bryce or I was never interested, but I never wanted to ruin the friendship. But then you have Walker is older brother. Walker is a few years older than us. He’s super handsome, athletic, charming, he could basically date anyone he laid his eyes on.

The truth is Walker was my sexual awakening for years. I’ve stayed at their house and spent the night and it wouldn’t be uncommon to see Walker come out and nothing but basketball shorts hell I don’t even think he would wear underwear sometimes.

I can remember the way seeing him made me blush, and I tried my hardest not to stare at him. I don’t know if Walker could tell that I was checking him out. Or maybe Walker was just used to people checking him out shouldn’t be any surprise that his little brother‘s gay friend had his eyes glued to him.

And somehow he continues to keep getting hotter and hotter and hotter…

So several weeks ago, Bryce and Walker’s family went on vacation to some tropical island. And something very strange happened while touring an old temple. How Bryce explained it to me was that they had a sign up that specifically said, “ please do not touch artifact.”

Bryce can be such a stickler for rules and I can almost see it in my head. It all went down. Bryce told Walker not to touch it. Walker likes to get on Bryce‘s nerves Walker reaches for it and then shit got real quick. Because Walker and Bryce have now switched bodies.

When Bryce was explaining all this to me, I really thought it was bullshit. I mean, who would believe that that sounds like something from a movie and yet even hearing Walker‘s voice, I can tell just by the tone that it’s Bryce.

So today is the first day that I have seen Bryce since he swapped bodies with Walker. And that’s why I feel all kinds of weird.

Now Bryce and I have stayed with each other like 1 million times and it’s really not unusual for us to be basically naked around each other. OK maybe not completely naked but like at least in her underwear.

And I have tried really, really hard to make him feel comfortable and I think I’m doing a really good job but having him standing in front of me in just his brother’s boxers is driving me a bit insane.

I’m sitting on Bryce‘s bed and walks back into his room just to ask me if I wanted anything from downstairs like something to drink or maybe a snack. I can barely get out the words because I can’t stop staring at the chiseled God in front of me.

“ chase you’re staying the night right?,” he asked me.

“ oh yeah, of course I’m staying the night as long as that’s OK.”

“ yeah man of course it’s okay! You know it’s okay man. No one cares you stay the night. You’re like basically family sides. My brother isn’t going to be home tonight. He’s wanted a lot of space since the whole. I’ve got his body thing. And both my parents are out of town so it’s just gonna be us,” he says with a side smirk.

“ well if it’s just us what do you wanna get into tonight?,” I say trying to make conversation.

I’m holding my eye contact directly at his face and I try my hardest not to look anywhere else, but he takes his hand and start scratching his balls and I can almost feel my whole cock twitch.

“ I mean since everybody’s not here tonight, we can always break into my parents liquor cabinet, whoop whoop!”

You know I am probably the most innocent 18 year-old alive, I don’t wanna attend parties nor do I really sneak around my parents but I feel like alcohol sounds like a great idea right now. I mean it I might be able to calm down a bit.

“Hell yeah! That’s sounds fun!,” I say with some enthusiasm.

“Bet! Be right back!”

I hear as heavy feet running down the stairs and all I can do is try to think of something that would totally turn me off like anything taxes, my grandparents, just something…

And yet all I can think about is how hot it would be if I could suck on his toes. I’ve had a thing for feet a while now and it’s taking me a little bit to accept it and a part of that I blame Walker for him because he has some sexy ass feet.

I can remember clearly the smell of his feet after he would finish football practice and he would pull off his shoes. Shit! Fuck! I’m so hard right now. I feel like I’m gonna have to sneak away and beat one out in the bathroom just to clear my head.

And then here comes Bryce with two glasses in his hand and a bottle of wine for the both of us just super eager.

I reposition myself to where I’m laying flat on my stomach so he doesn’t notice.

Bryce hops on to the bed with me and try’s his hardest to navigate a wine opener.

“Geez, I have no clue what I’m doing here…”

I eventually take it and started twisting in. I try to pull it out but struggle.

“Here since you now have all of the muscles.”

He rolls his eyes at me and tugs it out.

“Success!”

“Good team work there he-man,” I say playfully.

Bryce’s pours both of us a glass and at first I thought it tasted awful. But the second glass… now I see why people like it. I feel so warm inside and relaxed.

We both lay back in his bed.

“Is it super weird for you?,” I ask him.

“What?”

“You know… being in your Walkers body.”

“Um… yes. Yes and no I guess. I feel like everything has just moved so quick since the trip. I feel very different in public, like I’m so much more noticed. girls hit on me… so do guys. It’s a lot to take in especially since you and my family are the only ones who know about it.”

“What about Walker’s girlfriend?”

“Oh he broke up with her, thought it would be less weird. Although he had to do it over text because I refused to call or see her in person.”

“Damn! That’s crazy.”

“Yeah but she was like his girlfriend for the month, nothing serious.”

Of course…

“So is this pretty permanent?”

“Yeah I think so, unless you know of any other magic objects than can reverse it haha.”

“No, not off of the top of my head,”I say jokingly.

“Well… that answers your question. This is my body now. This is the new me I guess,” he says looking his muscles over.

I look them over as well and then my eyes draw this briefs… he’s got a hard on…

Bryce catches my eyes and says, “you wanna touch it?”

“What?!?”

“Come on Chase… don’t play games with me. I know you and I know you’ve had the hots for this body. I’ve known for years now.”

I take a deep breath… I feel my nervous all over again.

“It’s okay, I know you like this body. It’s my body now. And I want you to touch my massive dick.”

“But Bryce!”

“Shhh! Chase I’ve had a crush on you for years and I know you would never fool around with me. And now I have the body you’ve been lusting for years now. TOUCH MY MASSIVE DICK PLEASE!”

“Fuck, okay.”

I start touching it from the outside and it does feel huge!

“You know I love you Bryce, you’re the most important person to me. I just never wanted us to loose our friendship. It’s why I never tried anything with you.”

“I know. And listen I know you weren’t trying to go after my brother. I know what he looks like. Everyone does. But now I have the body and the personality so, I’m giving you no choice but to date me. Got it?”

“Ugh fine,” I say rolling my eyes.

“Now can you do me a favor?”

“Sure!”

“Can I see your feet?” he says to me.

Wow! Wasn’t expecting that!

“Wait why?”

“I hope you don’t think this is weird but I have a thing for them.”

“Shut up! So do I!”

“You do?!?”

“Yeah especially…,” I eye down to his feet and wiggles his toes.

“Oh my god! This is about to be a wild night!”

“Wait, can I kiss you?”

“Please!”

Part 2 Coming…

[myglittervoid]

I worked at my college bookstore. One day, someone came in and tried to return an overdue rented textbook. Even if I wanted to help them, the rental system was an entirely seperate system that I had no access to. Overdue books would pop up a thing on our screen telling us that the window for that return had closed. I explained to them and told them who they would need to contact and that they could try the buy back program.

They responded by throwing the book in my face and storming out. They had been charged almost $200 for this stupid book and I wanted to help them. But I couldn't, so instead I had to deal with their violence.

I didn't even get to take five seconds to process it because I had to just go on and help the next customer. When I told my boss, she said that it happens all the time and I would get used to it. And I did get used to it. Nobody was calling the police to protect me. Nobody was being arrested. And I wouldn't have wanted them to.

We were both being fucked by the same system, just in different ways. And I was the face they hired to stand there and accept the abuse the system caused.

I was making $12/hr to have candy, books, and stationary thrown at me. I didn't make the rules. But when those rules impacted others, I was expected to accept all responsibility for that persons discomfort and anger. $12 to be called a cunt everyday.

I think there's something to be said that saying the words "Deny, Defend, Depose, you're next" to an insurance sales rep can get you arrested for 'threats of mass homicide' or whatever with a threat of 15 years in prison

But when I was a manager in a fast food restaurant I've had customers throw food at me, demand for my personal phone number with an added threat of "Well I'll just have to FIND it", customers charging past the front counter to physically intimidate me and my coworkers, screaming and swearing, demands to know what time I get out of work, demands to know when my manager would be at work as a threat, people sitting in their car waiting for me to finish closing because they were angry at me, causing me to stay in the office watching the camera waiting for them to drive away...

But none of those incidents are arrest-able offenses, not one, any time I called the cops on any customer I would just hear excuses like " "there isn't anything illegal about calling a restaurant", that nothing physical happened and therefore there's nothing they could do, to call back and let them know if anything else happens

Idk, just think it's A TEENY TINY BIT ODD

Cop in the news goes "words have consequences" as if people don't berate and threaten fast food and retail workers every day

[frannyzooey]

Warriors

Merry Christmas @papurgaatika !! I am your Secret Santa, and I had a blast writing this for you ❤️ We share a first love of Din and writing this made me realize just how much I've missed him! I hope this is everything you wished for and more -- and I hope you have an amazing holiday!! 🎄❄️🎄❄️

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Rating: Explicit

--

You first spotted him on the outer reaches of the galaxy. 

His beskar armor demanded to be seen, a surprising choice for someone who worked in the shadows. But while the first time you saw him was a flash at the edge of the market, it wasn’t the first time he had seen you. 

He’d been watching you for weeks. 

The bounty on your head was a high one: a disgruntled old boss with a lot of credits, and even more vindictiveness. You’d been skipping from planet to planet, earning anything you could from spare jobs, and stealing whenever you had to. You knew your luck had to run out one day, but you always thought you’d be able to talk your way out of it. 

It’s a misunderstanding, you’d say. Let me tell you my side of the story. 

Just your luck that the bounty hunter who finally caught you wouldn’t budge an inch. 

He was stoic, solid. Impenetrable, just like his armor. The very size of his body intimidated you, but it had nothing on what you felt when he stared. The helmet he constantly wore hid everything from you, and even though you couldn’t see his expression, you still tried to plead your case.

It was like arguing with a wall. 

You pressed, and he remained silent. You explained, and he stood eerily still. You begged, and he said nothing.

Eventually, he admitted that the begging did it. 

That, and the fact that he needed a babysitter – for a child just as stubborn as he was. 

Weeks spent watching the Child and waiting around for him had your nerves strung tight, and sleep pulled at your dry eyes. You knew he was just as tired, but he was being infuriatingly stubborn – as usual. 

“Just take the bed,” he urged. 

“You’ve been out there for over two weeks,” you argued back, gesturing outside the ship. “Not a chance. You need sleep.”

“I’ll sleep in the cockpit.”

“Why, when you could stretch out?” you pushed back. 

His sighs were always these weighted things – thick with impatience, paired with hands on his hips and a tip of his helmet. The sound of it made you cringe when he did it to bounties, made you smile when he did it to the kid – but now, it made you frustrated. Annoyed. 

You crossed your arms over your chest, standing firm. He could be stubborn, but so could you. 

“The kid’s been down for ages, Mando. Take advantage of it.”

“And where will you sleep?” he pressed. 

“On the floor. Up in the cockpit. Wherever.” 

“On the floor?” He stared you down, and it took everything you had not to avert your eyes. 

“Hey,” you called him out. “Don’t try to intimidate me. It’s not going to work.”

He remained silent, and you huffed with annoyance. 

“Please,” you sighed. “I’m tired, you’re tired, the kids asleep. You need rest. Just take the bed.”

You turned to climb the ladder to the cockpit, and his voice stopped you. 

“Want to share it?”

–

Whatever sleep you thought you’d get, you were kidding yourself. 

The hulk of this man was a furnace next to you: the broad span of his shoulders blocking out the hull, the width of his chest shielding you, the bulk of his thighs pressed against your own. Insisting you take the side closest to the wall, you couldn’t even crawl out of the cot to go sleep somewhere else without waking him up – and that was the last thing you wanted to do. 

Okay, maybe not the last. 

The last thing you wanted was for him to wake up because you couldn’t stop squirming. 

Paired with the heat of his body, the ache that gathered at the crux of your thighs made it impossible to sleep. It sprouted at his proximity, blossomed at the reminder of his strength, and grew with each of his deep, steady exhales. It pooled in the cradle of your pelvis, flooding through your hips and down. 

Gingerly, you rolled onto your side – but his hips lined up too much with your ass for you to ignore. You tried your other side, but the crook of his neck called to you. You tried your back, and that’s when he spoke. 

“Is something the matter?”

You startled, unaware that he’d been awake this whole time. That kriffing helmet. 

“Can’t sleep, I guess.”

He hummed, the sound going straight to your core. “Not enough space?”

It really wasn’t, but you found yourself not wanting to admit it. It was either this or the cold, uncomfortable cockpit and being curled up next to him was the better option. 

Even if you ended up going mad with want. 

“No,” you replied. “It’s fine.”

He nodded, going still. 

Your eyes ran up the length of his forearm, over the bulk of his bicep. You pictured his arm lifting to rest itself across the dip of your waist, and imagining the weight of it, you let out a shaky exhale. Closing your eyes, you leaned into the fantasy: his hand sliding underneath the band of your thermals, cupping you wholly between your legs. His fingers sliding inside of you with a stretch, your thighs parting to make room for his thick wrist. Slick pooled along your seam and dripped out, and you shifted again on the cot. 

This time, his hand stilled you. 

“Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?” 

“No,” you blurted out, embarrassed. “No. I’m sorry.”

“Do you want…something else?” 

Your cheeks flooded with warmth, and you turned your head to look at him. “Like what?”

He shrugged, the shadowed round of his shoulder moving in the darkness. “You tell me.”

–

It didn’t take long after that to be buried underneath the bulk of his body. 

Every inch of skin that you dreamt about for months bared for your touch, you couldn’t stop exploring him – the fragrant crook of his neck, the smooth planes of muscle that covered his back, the trim sides of his torso and his soft belly dusted with hair. He seemed to revel in your touch, and you imagined that to be the case, with how often he was covered head to toe. 

His hips fit neatly within the cradle of your thighs, and when he filled you with a swift, precise push forward, a flutter erupted in your belly at the idea that he might fuck like he hunts – with competence and skill. Your back arched off his cot to take him deeper, and he groaned in your ear. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he praised, his knees shifting wider for purchase. His hips kissed the inside of your thighs with every roll forward, his weight spreading them wider underneath his strokes, and your hands splayed across his chest when he pushed himself up on his hands to stroke deeper, harder. Scars littered his chest, memories of his past permanently etched into his skin and something about it tugged at you – the idea that he always came out on top, but paid a price to get there.

Wanting to give him the rest you knew he deserved, you tugged him down on top of you and rolled your bodies until you straddled his lap – a sight that made him hum with appreciation. He tried to sit up to join you, but you pushed him back down. 

“I said you need rest, Mando,” you reminded him of your earlier words, your hips rolling in time with every upwards push of his. The filling heft of his cock had your mouth dropping open, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew his eyes were fixed on it. “Let me – let me do the work.”

“Okay,” he eventually agreed, his thumb finding the bud of your clit. A few swipes of his touch had you keening, and he rested his other arm back behind his head, as if getting comfortable to watch the show. “I’ll watch while you make yourself come this time, sweet girl. But the next one?”

You moaned, your hips rocking faster against his – forwards into the swirling pressure of the pad of his thumb, and backwards onto the filling thickness of his cock. 

“The next one is mine.”

–

After that first night, he never let you sleep anywhere else. 

The cot much too small for two bodies, you made do by always being joined in one way or another: your limbs entwined, your body draped over his, his cock nestled inside you. Days and sometimes weeks without him at your side, he stripped bare every time he crawled in next to you, loathe to waste any moment without your skin touching his. 

Your face fit into the crook of his neck perfectly, his arm wrapped around your waist just right. For someone that spent so long by himself, it was clear that he was touch starved, but as you found out, so were you. 

Two lonely stars, colliding in a galaxy. 

You got used to his moods and he got used to yours. A routine came easy: you played the mechanic to his pilot, the babysitter to his parent, the vessel for him to pour his love into. And he did, every chance he could get. 

In the cockpit, poured into your mouth. 

In the hull of the ship, splashed along your back. 

In his cot, every single night, in every single way possible – smeared across your chest, pooled on your soft belly, flooded into the depths of your cunt. 

It shouldn’t have been a surprise what happened after that, but it was. 

–

Seated on the edge of the worn exam table, you swallowed hard against a cough that rose in your chest. It tickled the base of your throat, demanding relief and you tucked your face into the crook of your elbow and let out a wet cough, your lungs heavy and sore. 

You had caught it from a bounty, a filthy vagrant that Mando had hauled up the ramp earlier that month. Due to a few choice words that the bounty spit at you, Mando made sure to freeze him (none too kindly) right away, but not before the stranger coughed with force in the small space. 

Not one to see a doctor for his own ailments, you were surprised when he demanded you see one after a couple weeks of the lingering cold. Leaving him waiting in the lobby, you smiled at the immediate berth the other patients gave him when he sat down. 

You picked at your finger, suppressing the urge to cough again. 

The medical droid reassured you. “You’ll be fine. All life signs for you and the child are reading in good condition.”

“The child?” you asked. The kid wasn’t sick, and he wasn’t even here.

“Looks like it’s just a cough. The baby is fine – all vitals are measuring optimal.”

You froze, unable to reply. 

The baby. 

“The…baby?”

The droid laughed, modulated and carefree like their words didn’t just shatter your whole existence. “A couple months along, I’d say. Do you want to listen?”

Gently lifting your tunic, they pressed a monitor to the curve of your stomach and the pulsing heartbeat that met your ears brought instant tears to your eyes. 

“There, there,” the droid soothed, handing you a tissue. “Sounds healthy!”

You walked back to the ship in a daze, your surroundings a blur, your mind stuck on a loop of worry.

He never asked for this. 

This is no life to raise a child in. 

The ship – the ship barely fits the three of you, where the maker is a baby going to go?

The endless questions ate away at you for the rest of the evening, every worst case scenario coming true in your mind. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

On his side facing you, Din (a name he had long ago whispered to you in the darkness of his cot) ran his touch along your arm. He tucked you closer, rubbing your back. “You still feel sick?”

Your cheek rested against the firm heat of his chest, and you listened to his heartbeat – so like the one you heard earlier today. They sounded the same, and tucked safely next to his bulk, you murmured the words into his neck. 

“I’m going to have a baby.”

His visor tilted downwards just as his hand tipped your chin up. He looked down at you, and you wished desperately that you could see his face. Your lip trembled when he said nothing, and he cleared his throat. 

“I…wanted to wait,” he started, and your face crumbled. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized, cutting him off. Your voice wavered, and you looked away. “I –”

“Stop.” His commanding voice halted your sentence mid-speech. His hold slid from your chin to your cheek, cupping the soft curve. 

“I wanted to wait,” he repeated, softer this time. “Until we could find someone to do the ceremony.”

Your face scrunched in confusion, and he dragged the pad of his thumb across your cheekbone, collecting a stray tear.

“We have a special ceremony we perform, when we bind ourselves to someone for life. It involves…taking our helmet off, so they can see us. So they can know us, better than anyone else.”

Your gaze transfixed on his visor, you held your breath as he reached for the edge of his helmet. 

“You already know me better than anyone else, so…”

He lifted the helmet up, and for the first time, you saw his face. 

He was beautiful – warm, rich brown eyes, ringed with thick lashes. A strong nose, a plush mouth. Stubble that scattered across his cheeks, a moustache that you never would have imagined. His curls were dark and mussed, and you envisioned a baby in your arms with the same color hair. 

The grin that broke across his face was almost as beautiful as the face itself – and every worry you had vanished at the sight of it. 

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke, the sound of his real voice brought fresh tears to your eyes. 

"We are one when together, we are one when parted.” He recited the vows and his hand took yours, placing it on his chest. He let his own touch rest along the curve of your belly. “We will share all, we will raise warriors."

You sobbed, and he laughed – a new, treasured sound that made you cry even harder. 

“You have to repeat it,” he teased. 

Focused on his voice – his real voice, the feeling of hearing it for the first time overwhelming you – you took a deep breath, and stared into his eyes. 

“We are one when together, we are one when parted.” A hitch in your breath broke the vow, and he smiled, his fingers splaying across your skin. “We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

[skipper1331]

Red and Blue // Leah Williamson

a/n: might be back or not, idk :)

Long distance.

You hated that word.

It reminded you that you wouldn‘t wake up next to your lover,

that you wouldn’t get a good night kiss or cuddles either,

that you couldn't get any affection except over the phone - which wasn't a long-term solution.

Each day that passed it was harder to deny the desire to go back home, back home to Leah.

To be fair, it wasn’t the first time that you‘d been long distance but ever since Leah had put a ring to your finger, the 'fiancé' and 'soon to be wife' rolling of her tongue made your heart ache.

Home was calling.

-

When you shared your thoughts on transferring back to the English league, Leah was excited and so happy - she’s been missing you like crazy. The blonde more than obsessed with you and still so in love with you. The thought of playing side by side with you in red was everything she could wish for. Every time you wore her Arsenal jersey - 'Williamson' on your back - she fell more and more in love with you. Sometimes she thought there was no way that she could love you even more yet you surprised her each time. Sometimes it was the way you smiled or other times it was the way her family loved you, endless possibilities. She would never stop falling deeper in love with you.

Though, what didn’t occur to her was that you hadn’t gotten any offers by Arsenal.

Brighton had offered one, Liverpool too, as did Chelsea.

Chelsea

London… Leah… Leah. London. London. Leah. Leah. London.

you couldn’t say no to that, could you?

Many thoughts ran through your mind.

should you or should you not?

do you want to or do you not?

Would Leah still love you or not?

Normally, you immediately would talk to her, thinking about the pros and the cons, what your heart was telling you to do.

But this time your heart was torn apart into two pieces. On piece was blue: with the opportunities you had at Chelsea - Champions League, winning titles, fellow English teammates, amazing staff,… The other piece was red: yelling, fighting and begging to wait, maybe Arsenal would offer something, some day. Would Leah be mad at you? She‘s been a gunner since she was little.

-

After many sleepless nights, you did the only right thing.

You signed with the Blues.

Leah wouldn’t be mad at you, would she? Your career is important to her too. She just couldn’t be mad. She loved you and you loved her.

Sun and moon.

Salt and pepper.

day and night.

black and white.

red and blue.

It would be fine, right?

-

Leaving the airport was a relief. You were finally back in England.

The great news was that Leah happily agreed to pick you up from the airport, still fully convinced that you had signed with the gunners.

The bad news was that you didn‘t and you still needed to tell her that you signed with the blue rival.

You were tense, nervous even. The defender not sensing any of that as she was in such a bliss of your presence and touch, her hand holding yours tightly as she drove to her apartment - her mind racing about moving in together.

-

The first hour in Leah’s apartment was spent with kisses and cuddling on the couch, trying to catch up the time you spent apart.

"Do you want something to eat, my love? I could make you something. I‘m sure you‘re hungry from the flight" she smiled, her fingers tracing patterns on your back.

"Yes please, but no ham sandwich" you giggled, the blonde gasping before pressing an gentle kiss to your forehead.

As you sat alone on the couch for a few minutes, you realized that you had to tell her now. Or wouldn’t ever tell her - too afraid of her reaction.

Standing up, you grabbed something, wrapped in wrapping paper, out of your backpack.

Please don’t kill me

Please don’t break up with me

"Love, dinner is almost ready." the girl smiled, proudly stating that nothing‘s burned.

"Leah, could we talk about something first?" you fidgeted with your fingers.

"Yes, of course. I actually wanted to talk to you about something too! Do you want to move in with me?" She was so excited, her smile wider than it was in a long time. Your heart fluttered.

"I‘d love that, but maybe you‘d like to open this first" you stated, your voice low as you tried to be cool, calm and collected.

Skeptically, she looked at you - you‘re nervous, "What‘s this?" she asked, already opening the gift.

"What the fuck ist that!" the gunner growled, seeing the Chelsea jersey, "are you trying to be funny!" she questioned, a scowl on her face as she stared at the 'Williamson' on the back.

"No" you whispered - now or never.. "I signed with Chelsea, Leah. And I‘d like to play with your- soon also my name on the back"

"WHAT!" She shouted, outraged by the thought of you in blue, hurt by thought of you not being in red.

"Arsenal didn’t offer me a contract and that‘s okay because I’m still here, back with you" you said, trying to lighten the mood.

Failing miserably.

"I‘d rather not see you at all than seeing you in blue!" she yelled, her fists clenching at her sides. How could you do that? How could play for the one club the despised the most.

Was her loyalty a joke to you? Was her childhood club a joke to you?

"You don’t mean that" you said, trying to convince yourself more than any other person.

"Oh, I absolutely do! Fly to wherever, I don’t care. And the audacity to think-" she laughed, "to think that you‘d play with the name Williamson on the back of a Chelsea shirt some day" turning off the stove, she walked around the counter, her face now serious as she glared at you like you had killed someone.

"Leave" she pointed at the door, "and just so you know, the invitation to move in has been rescinded"

your own anger started to bubble up now. You get it, she‘s mad, you expected her to be but to throw insults like at you? That wasn‘t okay. Angrily, you grabbed your bagpack, your suitcases still in Leah‘s car, something you‘d worry about later as you put on your shoes while the blonde still grumbled to herself about how reckless you were, that you didn‘t use your brain, questioning if you even had functional brain cells.

"You know what Leah, you‘re right. I wasn‘t using my brain. But not when I signed the contract but when I said yes to your proposal!" yanking down the engagement ring, you shoved it against her chest.

And as soon as you had slammed the door, the tears were spilling out of your eyes.

This was not the way you expected everything to happen nor did you want it that way.

In short: Leah Williamson was obviously furios but actually it was just a facade that she became aware of as soon as you had left the house. She was deeply hurt.

Deeply hurt by the fact that you had let her think she‘d be finally playing side by side with the love of her life. Because she was so excited, she had already planned everything through. This was everything she had ever wanted.. and now, it‘s gone.

You were gone.

Added to that, your last comment ripped her heart out, smashed it to the ground and stomped on it.

Fuck! Did you really just broke up with her?

Why was she stupid?! Why couldn’t she react normal, like every other person would have! Her stupid pride was in the way, once again.

She wanted to run after you. She really wanted to, but her legs wouldn’t move. It was too late.

You were gone.

she couldn't have caught up to you even if she wanted to.

Panic.

Panic, panic, panic.

Tears.

More tears.

Everything was too much.

She tried to call you.

No answer.

She texted.

Not even delivered.

Fuck.

"Mum, I-" she hiccuped in the speaker, "I fucked up and" her sobs were getting louder and louder, she didn‘t want to say it out loud, "and I think she broke up with me"

-

Within a few minutes Amanda let herself in in her daughters home.

She found Leah crying on the couch, sobbing violently while she typed something on her phone.

"Y/n-" her head snapped up, disappointed when she saw her mum instead of you, "oh, it‘s you" she whispered, wiping away the tears which didn’t help much as new tears streamed down.

"You wanna tell me what happened?" Amanda asked as she took a seat beside her daughter, arms wrapping around.

As soon as her mother hugged her the defender broke down once again, clinging onto her mother. Her heart was broken. She had broken your heart, so you broke hers in return. She deserved this. She‘s been nothing but an arse.

Once Leah had calmed down, she started to tell the story, every detail, every snarky comment she had left. She wasn‘t proud of her behavior. "I don‘t know what I was thinking. it just happened. I‘m so sorry. I love her"

"You need to apologize to her, not to me"

"I don’t know where she is! If she‘s safe or- I don‘t know, mum" she was desperate. The tears started to get less and less yet the broken heart very much felt.

"I‘ve been dreaming of this wedding since I’m 16! Do you know how often I imagined her being a Williamson? Every day, mum, every fucking day."

-

Around midnight her mum left, Leah promising her that she would call if she needed anything.

The only thing she needed was you, though.

She had to make things right, she couldn’t throw an over a decade going relationship away. Not when it was a relationship with you. The girl she loved more than anything in this world. The girl she would quit football for if she had to. She would walk to Antarctica if that would bring you back to her, back home.

Unknown to her, you weren‘t far away, just around the corner of her house actually.

When you left the house, you didn‘t know where to go. You didn‘t want to call any of your friends because you would have had to explain the situation and in that moment, you didn’t have the strength to do so.

In that moment, you needed to be alone. Your thoughts were running in every direction, trying to escape reality. Did you really broke up with Leah? Or had she broken up with you? You couldn’t tell. All you knew was that your heart hurt and felt empty. You waited ages for this day, to finally see Leah and it ended like this. One hour of bliss, more hours of horror. This couldn’t be the end, could it?

It was Leah and you.

There‘s never been You without Leah or Leah without You.

The picture of Leah‘s face haunted you. It seemed like her world collapsed when you gave her the ring. Were you overreacting? Your feelings were valid. She couldn’t just go crazy, tell you to fuck off and then expect to be happily ever after.

But even though, you‘re feelings were hurt in one of the worst ways possible, you couldn’t just give up. This was Leah. You knew Leah. You knew that it had to be deeper.

And when you saw her mum‘s car pulling up in the driveway, you knew that Leah was a wreck. The blonde was tough on the outside but on the inside, she was this sweet charming sensitive girl who adored to love and to be loved. And the fact that it hadn’t even been 20min before Amanda was at her apartment, surely meant something.

-

Standing at the front door, you thought about leaving again. Amanda had only left like 5 minutes ago, but you didn’t want to be outside any longer. It was dark and cold. And all you wanted was to be with Leah. You couldn’t just leave the things at where they were, that wasn’t like you.

So here you were, still fighting an inner battle if to knock on the door or not.

Yet you did.

Your love for the blonde defender was stronger than any pride right now.

A little spot in your mind hoped that she wouldn’t open the door, afraid to be confronted.

The gunner was shocked when she saw you standing there. Her eyes wide, the tear stains visible, cat caught her tongue.

Her next reaction was hugging you like her life depended on it and you did just the same. "I love you, I love you, I love you" you heard her whisper, not making any attempt of letting you go any time soon. She needed this.

You both needed it.

After what felt like forever, she pulled back, her hands cupping your face, thumbs caressing your cheeks, "you’re safe" her eyes checked for any sign of injury or discomfort, "I‘m okay" you confirmed.

"Let us talk, okay? I love you. I promise not to explode like that again. I love you so much" a single tear escaped her eye. You were quick to gently wipe it away, the blonde relaxing under your touch.

"Do you think I could get something from the dinner you made earlier?" you shyly smiled, your stomach growling. The lioness let out a breathy relieved laugh, nodding, "anything you want, my love." Without thinking she pressed a kiss to your forehead, pulling you into the kitchen.

There was an awkward silence while she re-heated up the dinner yet happily doing so. This was a good sign, wasn’t it?

Once finished, she placed the plate of food in front of you, "Do you want to be left alone while you eat? I‘ll be in the bedroom, you can call me whenever you‘re ready" she was already turning, ready to give you some space when you grabbed her wrist, "please stay"

-

"Thank you for dinner, it tasted great" you smiled. Leah returned your smile shyly, cheeks turning red.

"Um, and I guess we should talk, yes?"

she nodded slowly, "yes. I think it‘s really important that we share all of our thoughts and listen to each other before reacting to something said, is that okay with you? I know it‘s my fault it blew up earlier but I’d really like to apologize and let you understand what was going through me. And I want to understand your side of the story too and not cut you off in the middle of the sentence. I know my behavior earlier was very childish, I won’t let that happen again." gently she squeezed your hand, reassuring as well as promising you that she was ready to behave like a grown woman, like the woman you fell in love with.

"Would you like to start?"

"Yes, that would be very nice"

-

After hours of conversation, apologizing and exchanging thoughts, feelings and insecurities, you both came to a conclusion that worked for the both of you:

1. Leah promised to never ever treat you like that again. She respected you, she really did and she would forever try to show you that

2. always listen to each other before speaking! Communication is key.

3. Leah promised to cook dinner for two whole months as a sign of her remorse, also she offered a thousand kisses and more.

4. You promised Leah to never let her in the dark.

5. Moving in together seemed perfect.

Later that night, or rather in the early morning hours, you laid in bed together, you were snuggled up in Leah‘s side, your head resting on her chest as she played with your hair.

"I can hear your brain working, my love, what‘s the matter?" you asked gently, resting your chin on your hand, so could look at her - your finger seemed so empty.

With a quick motion, you sat on her lap, the blonde now sitting up as well, "I love you" gently, she took your hand in her own, holding it a way that had your hand facing her.

She didn‘t say anything, but pressing a feather light kiss on your ring finger. You got the silent message, plead even.

"yeah, I’d love to have my ring back" you smiled, the lionesses already reaching for it on her nightstand.

"I can’t wait for you to be a Williamson" she admired as she put the ring on its original place.

"Me neither"

Ps. Leah Williamson still didn‘t like Chelsea and she never would but she learned to love the colour blue - because it was you - even more when the name Williamson was displayed on the back.

No matter the colour, Leah Williamson would always loved you.

Though learning to love the colour blue was a process, she still begged you wear her red Arsenal jersey every now and then.

[bonbonly]

If you are such a hore for charles rn, maybe we could get more sugar daddy charles? Maybe him punishing you for some reason?

you're spoiling me so badly right now PUHLEASE

bon's thoughts (18+)

sugardaddy!charles had specifically told you to get back home at 8:00 because he was going to take you out for dinner. you should've known your friends had different plans for you, though. they knew about your arrangement with the older man, and they couldn't stop giggling. you had asked charles to buy you some expensive purses, and he was happy that you were asking him to indulge you so he bought them. only problem was that you had gotten them for your friends who kept pestering you in between classes for those items. every time you’d sneak a new gucci bag for your best friend, you’d grow more worried that charles would one day ask you where all the bags he bought for you were. his money was only for you, not for your friends.

you received a text from charles at 6:30, asking you to finish your last class and head over to his place so you could wear an elegant red dress he bought you, and the gucci bag. you freak out, turning to your friend and begging her to give the bag back just for tonight but she frowned, telling you the bag was all the way back at her house 500 miles from the university. you nearly fainted at her words. charles was going to punish you for this, you were sure of it. so, you decided to do what you always did - ignore his texts because truth be told, you did like the angry sex that followed - but it was better than him not gifting you anything if he found out you’d been giving them to your friends, little miss saint.

“where’s the bag?” was the first question charles asked you when you finally returned home, “i searched all over your closet, mon chérie, i cannot find any of your bags.”

you gulp, awkwardly laughing, “a-about that actually…”

charles is laughing at the dinner table with some of his colleagues. he had been laughing this entire time, which you thought was a good sign but then again, he was never this cheerful. some of the people at the table stand up to grab some extra food, and you turn to face charles, leaning in to whisper into his ear,

"y-you're not mad at me?" you ask.

"mad? no," he responds, and you let out a sigh in relief, "no, i'm fuming, my love."

your jaw drops, and you feel him squeeze your thigh harshly, enough for it to hurt just a tiny bit. your eyes snap down to where his thumb is caressing the fat of your skin before he snickers under his breath, "my money is for your benefit. if i wanted to give money to your friends, i'd be a charity foundation, not your sugar daddy, is that clear?"

you nod your head, "i-i'm sorry, i kept trying to tell them no but they wouldn't listen! i would never try to go against you like that, you know-" your words are cut off as his fingers trail up your thigh, cupping your heat. you stiffen in your seat, making sure no one was looking to see what was happening under the table. charles' fingertips drag along your clothed cunt, and he smiles at the way you're squirming in your seat, begging him to stop, "no, not now. what if someone sees?"

"let everyone see how i use you, how you're mine and only mine. i must fuck you too hard because your brain just can't seem to understand it, hm? ma chérie, you're on the thinnest of ice as we speak right now. you're going to take my fingers for the rest of the night, and not a word out of you. not one sound." charles kisses your cheek, fingers pushing your panties to the side before collecting your arousal around your slick folds. you bite your tongue, trying not to whimper when his fingers push into your entrance, teasing you mercilessly. when the guests start coming back, you squish your thighs together as an effort to stop him but he glares at you, using his free hand to hold your thigh open as his fingers curl inside you.

"dinner's really good, right?" a woman asks you and you moan out loud,

"mhm, so good," you force a smile, narrowing your eyes at charles who's pumping his fingers faster inside you, a proud look on his face,

"my baby loves restaurants like this, i would take her to each one if she didn't want to waste my money so much," his eyes flicker at you, loving the way you're clearly struggling to hold it together. no noise, no sound, those words echo in your mind and you take massive bites of your food to occupy your mouth so you won't accidentally slip out another moan. thankfully, a performance in the background had just ended as the audience roars into applause, you let out a guttural moan that's disguised. you slump against your chair, chest heaving as charles pulls his fingers out and sucks your juices off, licking them clean before staring at you,

"if they ask, i'll tell them you're in the bathroom. they'll leave in a few minutes to the bar anyway," he instructs and you open your mouth to argue but he's quickly shoving you under the table. you want to use his money for your friends, wasting his time and energy to buy whatever you want? you can wait and do what he wants now, he doesn't care. he unbuckles his belt carefully, eyes flickering to his friends whose backs face him. they're too busy watching the singer on stage pour her heart out into a verse. he chuckles as he wraps the table's cloth around your face, only your mouth visible to him and he pulls out his throbbing member, shoving it down your throat without warning. your gags are silenced instantly and charles grips the back of your head, thrusting ruthlessly into your mouth as tears slip your eyes,

"you like it when i use you like this, right?" charles whispers, crouching down to make it look like he's on his phone, "fuck, using my money for your friends? how sweet, so sweet of you, mon chérie. so kind and helpful! i didn't know my little girl was this sweet to her friends at the expense of my money." he hisses, hands going under the table to yank your hair so that your mouth could open even wider for him. his balls slap against your chin, and he has to quiet his grunts as his thrusts become more erratic.

"fuck, i cannot wait to take you back home and fuck you properly. make sure you cannot walk for days so you won't come up with something stupid like this again." he scoffs, groaning under his breath as he shoots ropes of his cum down your throat. when he pulls out, he admires the sight of his cum dribbilng down your neck, dropping onto your full breasts that almost spill out of your dress.

"stay there for 5 minutes." charles says, "in the meantime, make yourself useful for me," and he sticks his thumb in your mouth, watching you suck diligently as he waits for his friends to leave.

[16novvs]

in this together ˖ᡣ𐭩 ⊹

arcane season 2 spoilers!

councilor!sevika had a particularly rough day and her assistant (you!fem) not only stands up for her, comforts her, but also encourages sevika that everything is going to be alright. angst with comfort!!!! AND FLUFF???i honestly made this to cope with how the arcane ending fucked sevika over.. my beautiful wife T_T hope you enjoy!!

1.5k words (currently editing)

You had been there during Silco’s reign, working alongside Sevika, managing the details and data that went unnoticed by others. After the fighting ended, you followed Sevika into a new chapter as her assistant, trading the chaos of war and survival for the stream of governance.

The council chamber was as cold and unwelcoming as ever, the polished surface of the circular table reflecting the sharp, impassive faces of Piltover’s councilors. Sevika sat stiffly, her broad frame filling the chair that felt more like an insult than a seat of respect.

You sat at Sevika’s side, trying to take notes and keep track of the conversation as best you could, though your attention was split between the meeting and Sevika herself. You could see she was trying to shrink into herself. To others, she may have looked stoic, but this was your Sevika. You could tell she wasn’t comfortable at all. To make matters worse, Sevika had left her mechanical arm at home. Weapons weren’t allowed in the council chamber bullshit, and that left her feeling annoyingly vulnerable. Next meeting, you will encourage her to wear it regardless of what they think.

Today’s meeting was completely and utterly nonsensical. The past few weeks, the council members had been running in circles, with the main focus being on making Piltover and Zaun into a true partnership between the two cities. Sevika didn’t care about that, and neither did you. What you wanted were resources: systems in place to get kids a proper education, to get the homeless off the streets, to provide proper jobs and healthy diets. You both wanted Zaun to become a place one could live in, not fight to survive.

Sevika’s patience had worn thin hours ago, but she stayed, gritting her teeth as Piltover’s officials changed the topic every time her concerns for Zaun came up. They cloaked their disregard for her in polished semantics and false promises, but Sevika saw right through them.

You, on the other hand, were practically fuming. You’d stopped writing a while ago and didn’t care to hide the contempt on your face anymore. You’d think the world nearly ending would be enough to make people change their ways, but I guess not. Before you could continue your inner monologue, your thoughts were rudely interrupted by some pompous ass sitting next to Sevika.

“You know, Sevika,” he said, leaning in close and taking advantage of the bustle in the council room, “I admire your… confidence to sit here today. It’s rare to see someone rise so far above their means. It’s almost inspirational, really.”

Sevika didn’t respond, her eyes narrowing at she processed the veiled jab. You, however, understood it right away and couldn’t hold back. Your hand slammed the table between the two of them, a sharp noise ringing through the room.

“With all due respect,” you leaned in, your voice calm but sharp, “if Councilor Sevika hadn’t come to rescue this craven city, half of you would either be slaughtered or under the Herald’s control. If you truly admire her, maybe you should show it by addressing the issues at hand instead of throwing thinly veiled insults.”

The Piltover councilor blinked, clearly not expecting a response from you, let alone one with such bite. Across the table, a few of the other assistants exchanged glances, some looking shocked, others impressed. Sevika’s head turned slightly toward you, her eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. You could see the tension in her shoulders ease just a little, the corner of her mouth twitching in what could almost be a smile.

“Well,” Shoola, another councilwoman, said, clearing her throat, “Perhaps we should move on.”

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur of tense exchanges and unresolved issues, but Sevika held her head high, bolstered, you hoped, by your words. When the meeting finally adjourned, Sevika rose without a word, nodding to Shoola. You followed her out, the quiet tension between you growing heavier on the way home.

The apartment was dimly lit, the faint glow of sunlight filtering through the blinds. The heavy clunk of Sevika’s boots echoed against the floor as she stepped inside, her mechanical arm sitting limply on the coffee table. She didn’t say a word as she sank onto the couch, her head falling into her hand. You set your bag down by the door and crossed the room, kneeling in front of her. The council meeting had drained her; you could see it in the way her broad shoulders slumped and the faint tremble in her arm.

“Sevika,” you said softly, resting a hand on her knee. “Look at me.”

When she did, the sight broke your heart. She looked tired, worn down, like she was carrying the weight of Zaun on her shoulders—and she was. Tears threatened to spill from her eyes. Sevika refused to cry even when she found out Jinx was gone, and now the floodgates had opened. Your poor girl.

“Oh, come here, baby.” You planted yourself beside her, allowing her to sink into your embrace. And for the first time in a long time, Sevika finally let go. She cried for Jinx, for Isha, for Silco, and for Zaun. She cried because her strength, the one thing she’d use to make change, was useless here. She cried for the Zaunites who’d lost their lives fighting alongside her, and she cried because she was afraid it would have all been in vain.

You leaned back, cradling her head against your chest as she sobbed. With gentle hands, you traced soothing circles on her back, your soft reassurances and sweet murmurs helping to steady her breathing. The weight of her pain slowly eased as you held her. You stayed like that for a while, the sound of her muffled sniffling and quiet whimpers eventually fading into the stillness. When she was ready, Sevika sat up, brushing away the lingering traces of tears on her cheeks. You could see in her eyes that she felt lighter.

“Back in the council chamber,” she said finally, her voice low and gruff. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” you replied immediately, meeting her gaze. “They don’t get to talk to you like that. Not while I’m here.”

For a moment, she just stared at you, softness in her eyes. Then, to your surprise, she let out a short, dry laugh. “You’ve got guts,” she said, shaking her head. “That goddamn room is so stuffy.

You laughed. “It is, isn’t it?” you said trying to draw her out of the dark cloud that seemed to hang over her.

She didn’t respond right away, but she did slip her hand into yours, intertwining your fingers and caressing the back of your hand with her thumb.

You broke the silence gently, your voice steady and warm. “Sevika, you’re doing everything you can. I know it doesn’t always feel like it’s enough, but it is. Zaun has someone in their corner who truly cares—someone who fights for them every single day. That’s more than most people in that council can say.”

Sevika’s gaze dropped to your intertwined hands, her thumb brushing soft, absent patterns across your skin. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted in a whisper. “Silco, Vander—they always had a plan. Me? I’m just... figuring it out as I go.”

“And that’s okay, this is all new to you— to us,” you said firmly. “Silco and Vander weren’t perfect, Sev. They made mistakes—lots of them. You’re allowed to stumble or feel lost. What matters is that you care, and you’re still here, fighting. That’s exactly what Zaun needs.”

She let out a bitter laugh, her lips twisting into a faint, humorless smile. “What’s the point of trying when they won’t listen? When they look at me like I don’t even belong there?”

“Then you make them listen,” you said, squeezing her hand. “You’ve fought for Zaun every step of the way, and you haven’t stopped. They might not see it, Sev, but I do. I see everything you’re putting into this, even when it feels like you’ve got nothing left to give.”

Her hand shifted slightly, her fingers brushing against yours as she slowly lifted her head. When her eyes met yours, the vulnerability there made your chest tighten. Still, you could see the faint spark of resolve returning.

“You always know how to say the right thing, don’t you, doll?” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Just telling the truth,” you replied, your own smile soft but steady.

“Come here.”

This time, you let her pull you into her arms, the familiar weight of you on top of her chest allowing her to relax. Her strong arm wrapped around your waist, the warmth blossoming against your waist and back.

“Thank you,” she said softly, nuzzling into your neck.

“Always,” you whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to her jaw. “We’re in this together, I promise.”

For the first time in a while, she let herself believe things would be alright. Wrapped in your warmth, the weight of the world seemed to ease, just a little, as she sank into you and allowed herself to breathe.

so this was supposed to be straight up fluff but i couldn’t help myself w/ the angst!! i apologize if this felt rushed + i barely proof. i hope you enjoyed reading nonetheless and i’d love to read your comments on this if you have any <3

[puckstories]

Superstar | Quinn Hughes

Pairing; Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Fluff, established relationship, that's it I think. Edited only once. Super short (blurb)

Summary; Just a little blurb in honor of the Canucks beating the Sharks.

Word Count; 1.2k

The Canucks finally snapped their losing streak, edging out the Sharks 4-3 in a thrilling, hard-fought game right before the holiday break. It had been a rollercoaster of emotions—both for the team and for Quinn. He’d had two key assists, helping set up crucial plays, and while his body was tired from the physical toll of the game, his mind was still buzzing, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he left the locker room and headed into the parking garage.

As soon as he steps out into the cool evening air, his eyes immediately spot you leaning against his car, waiting for him. The sight of you sends a jolt of elation through him, cutting through the lingering fatigue in his muscles. You’re standing there, bundled up against the cold, arms crossed, your face lighting up the moment you catch sight of him. He feels the corners of his mouth tug up into a wide smile, his heart skipping a beat as his eyes meet yours.

Without thinking, Quinn quickens his pace, his exhaustion forgotten in the moment. Before you can say anything, he sweeps you up into his arms with effortless strength, lifting you off the ground as he spins you in a tight circle. Your laugh fills the quiet parking garage, bright and full of joy, the sound muffled slightly as your face presses into the crook of his shoulder. He holds you tightly, the familiar warmth of your body against his making him feel grounded, like everything else melts away.

You squeal softly, clinging to him as he spins you, your arms looping around his neck for balance. “Quinn!” you gasp, breathless with laughter, your feet dangling a few inches off the ground as he holds you close. The feel of his strong arms around you, the giddy rush of being lifted so easily, makes your heart flutter. Even after such a tiring game, playing almost thirty minutes, he still has energy left for you.

He finally sets you back down, but doesn’t let go, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips as he keeps you close, his forehead gently leaning against yours. His breath is still a little ragged from the game, but his smile is wide, and there’s a gleam in his eyes that you love seeing—like he’s still riding the high of the win, and seeing you is the perfect way to top off his night.

“You were amazing,” you murmur, your voice soft as your fingers gently thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. “Two assists? That’s my superstar.”

His grin widens, and he lets out a soft chuckle, the sound vibrating through his chest. “It was a team effort,” he says modestly, but you can tell by the glint in his eyes that he’s proud of how he played tonight. “But damn, it feels good to win again.”

You nod, feeling the excitement radiating off him, the energy of the game still lingering in the way his hands absentmindedly squeeze your hips, his thumb brushing the fabric of your jacket. He’s exhausted, you can tell—the dark circles under his eyes, the slight droop in his shoulders—but there’s also this unmistakable buzz about him, like he’s still replaying every moment in his head.

“I’m so proud of you,” you whisper, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. His skin is warm, slightly flushed from the exertion of the game, and he leans into your touch, his eyes softening as he looks down at you. “You deserved this win.”

For a moment, the rest of the world fades away—the cold air, the empty parking garage, the weariness in his bones. All Quinn can think about is you, standing here with him, your hand on his cheek and that bright, beautiful smile on your face that never fails to make his heart race. He wraps his arms around you a little tighter, pulling you even closer until there’s no space between you.

“I missed you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. The game, the pressure, the streak—it all dissolves when he’s with you. “Thanks for being here.”

You smile, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Of course.”

He closes his eyes for a brief second, savoring the feel of your lips against his skin, the comfort you always manage to bring him no matter what’s happening on or off the ice. And when he opens them again, there’s a look in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat—a quiet, unspoken gratitude that runs deeper than words.

"Gonna miss you, though, when you abandon me for four whole days," you tease, referring to the fact that Quinn is heading back to Michigan for a few days, to visit his family during the short holiday break. A playful pout forms on your lips as you lean into him, your head now resting against his chest. Your fingers toy with the hem of his shirt, absentmindedly.

Quinn chuckles softly, his hand gently stroking your hair as he looks down at you, his smile warm but knowing. “Abandon?” he echoes, amusement flickering in his eyes. "It’s four days, not four months. You’ll survive."

"I don’t know..." you sigh dramatically, shifting slightly in his arms, pretending to be forlorn. "Four days without you is gonna be tough." Your voice carries that teasing lilt, but underneath, there’s a small kernel of truth. Sure, you’re both joking around, but there’s also a part of you that’s going to miss him more than you’re willing to admit. Things between the two of you had been so easy, so natural lately—it’s strange to think about him being away, even if only for a short time.

He tightens his grip around you slightly, his thumb tracing lazy circles on your shoulder as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your temple. "You’ll be fine," he murmurs, his voice gentle but reassuring. "And it’s not like we can’t text, FaceTime... I’ll be back before you know it."

"Mm-hmm," you hum, lifting your head slightly to meet his eyes, your lips quirking into a soft smile. "I guess that’ll have to do." There’s a beat of silence before you add, "But if you really wanted me to survive, you’d bring me with you. I’d make an excellent carry-on."

That earns you a real laugh from Quinn, his chest rumbling beneath you. "Oh, I’m sure you would," he says, his tone filled with fondness. "But then I’d have to explain to my family why I have this beautiful distraction hanging around all weekend." His eyes soften as he says it, his hand moving to cup your cheek, brushing his thumb across your skin. "Not sure I’d be able to get much family time in with you there."

His words send a flutter through your chest, and you lean into his touch, letting out a quiet, contented sigh. "Smooth," you murmur, your eyes closing for a brief moment as you savor the warmth of his palm against your cheek.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Boxer Katsuki Bakugo Headcannons ✧˖°

Boxer!Katsuki who finds it endearing that you research his opponents before his matches. While he doesn’t expect you, nor need you to, it shows how much you care about and support his career. In the car, if you five him a fact about the person he’s fighting, he’ll nod and accept the information. And sure, his manager and coach have already told him everything he needs to know, but he would never tell you that.

Boxer!Katsuki who always gets you into his games for free. No discussion. You walk in with the undefeated Dynamight, nobody is questioning you. The staff practically acts like you’re on the same level as Katsuki, but that’s because they know if they were to treat you rudely, Katsuki wouldn’t be too happy.

Boxer!Katsuki who lets you relax in his locker room. He loves practicing his moves while you watch, because you aren’t very subtle when you stare at his chest. Katsuki doesn’t complain though and he prides himself on how much you love his figure. He’ll add cocky comments now and then, telling you to quit gawking, but the threats are never truthful.

You sat on a foldable chair next to the wall of lockers as your body friend struck a large punching bag over and over. Sweat beaded down his forehead, making his blonde hair stick to the skin. Grunts and pants pushed their way out of his mouth and occasionally he would let out short growls. Even if you were ‘mindlessly scrolling on your phone’ you knew that Katsuki was sexy as hell. A smirk appeared on your face at the thought. Unknowingly, your boyfriend had caught you looking like a pervert at him and he slowed the swinging bag, raising a brow at your lost-in-thought face.

“Like what you see?” He teased from afar, noticing how you were torn from your thoughts and a small blush appeared on your face. You scoffed, going back to your phone that had turned off from lack of use,”I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled, obviously not believing you for a second,”You sure? ‘Cause it looks like you’re drooling over me.”

You looked up, glaring at the man, which he only found cute,”You’re clearly seeing things, maybe you want me to look at you.” Katsuki realized you wouldn’t accept your defeat and moved off of the platform, smirking as you didn’t look up from your screen. He removed one of his gloves and lifted your chin,”I’m just messing with you.” Before you could comment and deny, he locked his lips with yours, smiling just a bit as you melted against his mouth.

Boxer!Katsuki who doesn’t care if someone walks in during your guy’s make out sesh. You’ll stand next to him, blushing like crazy, and Katsuki won’t even bat an eye. He has his hand resting on your waist, listening to whatever the person had to say. He really doesn’t care about Pda and if he wants a kiss, he’s gonna get a kiss. In the beginning of your relationship, you often worried how the media would react to it, but after a certain game, Katsuki kissed you right in front of the cameras. He made it clear he didn’t give a shit what people thought about the two of you.

Boxer!Katsuki who finds it cute that you worry so much about him. He’s been boxing for years now and no one frets over his being as much as you do. When his manager tells him he has five minutes before entering the ring, he gives you a long kiss, then always expects you to tell him to be safe. If his opponent is known for being rough in the ring, then you are extra stressed out. You understand that there are paramedics for a reason and injuries are bound to happen, but you can’t stand to see Katsuki in pain.

Boxer!Katsuki who almost winds up late to the match because he forgets the time and can’t seem to leave without one more kiss. Though his manager gets annoyed, he could never ask you to leave, because if Katsuki heard of this, he would immediately drop him and find someone new to be his manager. Which wouldn’t be hard since people are already obsessed over his records and fame.

Boxer!Katsuki who searches for you in the crowd as he’s being introduced. Without failing, he’ll scan past the screaming and crazed fans and see you in the reserved area. Sometimes, you love having a little surprise for him as he walks out. Since he’s portrayed as a big bad boxer, you like making him chuckle by making large cardboard cutouts of his face and waving them around proudly.

Boxer!Katsuki who fights like an underdog coming to their senses and finally realizing their strength. And it’s all for you. He hits hard and fast, making sure when the ref breaks them up, he sneaks a glance at you and your astonished face.

Boxer!Katsuki who if he does end up with a small injury after the fight, like a nose bleed or his face burning up, never goes to the provided nurses, instead he lets you take care of him. Before you met Katsuki you had taken some medical classes for small things and injuries, so he sees you as a perfect nurse for him.

You had been sitting in the locker room for a while now, resting in the nicer area with a small tv and a large couch. When the door opened, you quickly looked over, gasping softly as you took notice of your boyfriend. He was wearing a bedazzled robe with his title on the back and still in his gloves but you were only focusing on the scarlet liquid dripping from his nose. Instantly you rise from the couch, grabbing his hand and yanking him to the wash room,”I didn’t see your nose start bleeding out there.”

He had a lazy smile as you walked around the bathroom, taking immediate action for something so small,”It started in the hallway and I knew you would help me.” You huffed, knowing he could easily clean it himself, but he needed you to do it. Although, you would be lying if you said you didn’t love seeing him watch you with such adoring eyes.

He leaned against the counter, arms crossed and you retried a small cotton pad and alcohol. You got to work, using the dry gauze to soak up any of the fresh blood,”You did good out there.” The boxer chuckled under his breath, wrapping an arm around your waist to drag you closer,”Just good?” You tossed the cotton into a small bin beside the two of you, smirking at his words,”Well, I can’t boost your ego that much.”

The blonde’s grin grew and leaned in for a kiss, but you put a finger up, pushing him away,”You still have blood all over you.” He frowned, suddenly not liking his bloodied nose. Fortunately for Katsuki, it didn’t take long for you to wipe away the dried substance that had gotten as far as his collarbone.

Once you were done, you put away the supplies and finally you cupped his cheeks, pulling him into a slow kiss. Alas, it didn’t last long as you felt his face was hot to the touch.

Boxer!Katsuki who rested his head in your lap, a cold rag across his forehead, and talked on about the fight from his perspective. You watched him dreamily, humming in response to his words, and you played with his messy golden locks. All you could really think about was how the media would react if they found out their scary champion, who had just K.O’d his opponent an hour earlier, enjoyed being pampered by his loving girlfriend.

[makethemhoesmad]

merry christmas, please don’t call

merry christmas!!!!

azzi x paige

1.14k words

please live react

if you’re sad about the angst blame @lupinqs and @imaginespazzi

—

“fuck this,” paige groans, flinging herself down onto the couch and bringing her hands to her face. she’d been sitting, rigid, staring at the gifts with her name under the tree, wondering if she should return them or save them. some of them, she’d bought three months ago, so soon she could probably still bring them back and get a refund. she flips her phone over, checking to see if one of the girls had messaged her, inviting her over to do something. it was christmas eve, after all. no messages, not even one that she definitely wasn’t looking for. 

…

azzi’s laugh rings through her family’s living room, but if someone would have looked at her, they would have seen that it barely brushed her smile, didn’t even touch her eyes. there weren’t even any presents for paige under the tree, she noted. her mom had definitely bought something, they love loved her too much to not have thought of her before it happened. would they get them to paige still, somehow? what would azzi do with the hoodie, the shoes, the necklace she bought her?

who was she kidding, she’d sleep with them tonight, clutching them tight in her arms while wearing something else that still smelled like her, in the sheets they used to share.

…

paige knocks back another glass of something. definitely not very festive, she knows that much. sadly, it’s the only way she sees fit to rinse the images of her in matching christmas pajamas, baking cookies, under the covers…

stop, paige tells herself, because this is pathetic. begging on your damn knees because your girl(sorry, ex girl) was in a mood about an injury and told you to go fuck yourself, so you told her to go right on out of your bed. And you haven’t spoken to her since, unless it’s about basketball. Because it’s always about basketball

…

azzi gets nice and settled with her family, tucked in tight together on the couch to watch the Grinch, this year’s choice holiday movie. and it’s fine, azzi can sit there and try to forget, until a seemingly innocent little scene comes on. one who rushes up behind her husband, catching a quick goodbye kiss. that sends her over the edge, because she didn’t get a goodbye kiss. she should be cuddled here with her family and paige, and giggle when paige pecks her on the lips right along with the movie

she stands up abruptly, shaking her head and running into her room. she flings herself onto her bed, burying her face in paige’s hoodie, still laying there. 

when katie fudd walks into the room, sitting on her daughter’s bed and lightly rubbing her back, she’s thinking of paige, too. she knows that’s who azzi needs in times like this, even when paige is the reason azzi gets like this. the only way to fix her issue with paige, sadly, is with paige.

“you should call her, sweetie”

azzi sits up, shaking her head as her tear stained face crumples again. “no, you don’t get it. she begged me not to call her. told me that if i called her, she knew we’d be right back to where we were, with the same issues.” a sob comes out at the end, because really, all azzi wants to do is call paige, beg her to hop on a flight and make it here by morning, then never let her leave her arms again.

“where’s my phone,” she sighs, teary eyes set in a determined stare.

…

paige startles awake, her phone buzzing under her pillow.  the contact lit on her screen is the only one she didn’t want to see, couldn’t see. for some insane, unexplained reason, she slides to answer the call.

she hears a snuffle on the other end, then a voice croaking out, “paigey”

her resolve softens, just the way she knew it would.

“baby, is everything okay? did something happen?” she asks, even though she knows what azzi will tell her. this is what happens every time they fight, and one of them has to leave a few days after. except this time, it’s christmas. 

“no, nothing is okay,” azzi whimpers into the phone. miles away, she’s clutching the phone like a lifeline, waving her mother out of the bedroom. “i need you, please, i need anything. i need to listen to you call me baby, and hold me in your arms.”

paige tries, she really does, to say no, to be firm, to say that they can talk about it when she comes back to school, but she really needs to take some of her own time right now. but something about the way azzi’s voice cracked when she said need had paige looking up quick flights. 

she found nothing.

“paige?” azzi breathes, the line having gone silent. 

“i’m so sorry, az. there’s no flights. not one damn plane can take me to you.”

she swears she can hear azzi’s face drop, and then she really does hear the shaking, gulping sobs that break through the speakers. 

“no, sweetheart, please don’t cry. ill drive, i’ll be there tomorrow when you wake up, i swear up and down, baby, please don’t cry you’re breaking my heart,” paige grovels. she really doesn’t know how to refuse azzi, and when she’s crying, she doesn’t even think it’s possible. 

“paigey, please, please, please,” azzi whispers, saying please like it’s a mantra, like it’s keeping her warm.

“yeah, baby, i’ve got you, just try and sleep. i’ll be there as quick as i can.

paige rushes around her room, mumbling affirmations to azzi as she collects things in a duffel, then locks her door and walks to her car. she hears azzi’s deep, stuttering breath that tells her she’s cried herself right to sleep. 

…

the bed dips, making azzi snuffle and crack her eyes open. she glimpses a tired, tear-stained paige running her hand over her face. she then feels strong arms wrap around her, welcoming the protective feeling of someone near her as she falls back asleep.

…

paige holds azzi tightly, but her own eyes stay wide open. she cried silently nearly the entirety of her drive down here, thinking about how in a month or two, this fight will be back again, and they’ll do the same thing. sometimes, paige is the one begging for azzi to come and hold her. sometimes its azzi. same problem, because they’re connected, no matter how wrong it may seem, no matter how much they hurt each other, they’ll always be essential, the way you have to feel pain to gain something, and the way you have to boil noodles to soften them.

…

paige’s eyes flicker open, tasting azzi’s lips against her own.

“merry christmas, paige”

“i love you, azzi”

~ hope you enjoyed!

have a happy holiday!

[puckinghischier]

I can just imagine doing a “soft launch” with Nico and him not understanding the concept of it and posting just a picture that’s very much you and the teams gc blowing up giving him shit

when you opened the burst of notifications suddenly flooding your phone, you’re confused. sure, you had just posted a soft launch of nico on your account, but you didn’t expect this kind of reaction to it, most of your close friends and family already knowing about him.

when you open the instagram app, though, you see none other than a post from your oh so sweet boyfriend, your smiling face next to his looking right back at you. his comments are full of fans talking back and forth about who you are and where you came from. you noticed the sudden influx of followers to your account, quickly switching your profile to private before any more make their way through.

the two of you had discussed doing a soft launch last night, agreeing that now is the time to do it, seeing as you’re getting pretty serious. you thought nico understood the concept, but bless his heart, he didn’t.

he had posted one of the most recent pictures the two of you had taken together. you were standing nestled close to him in front of the large tree at rockefeller center just across the bridge, big, loving smiles on both of your faces. the icing on the cake, though? he tagged you in the picture.

you noticed a few of his teammates in the comments, cheering the new relationship on and congratulating him for making it social media official.

ones such as timo, jack, and jesper, however, were poking fun at him. the three of them were the first of nico’s teammates you ever met, so you feel a bit closer to them than some of the others. you had actually crashed their lunch yesterday, joining the four hockey players for a quick cafe meal in-between practices.

they were included in your conversation, asking them their opinion and if it was too soon. when they all gave you their approval you continued the conversation with nico later that night, setting the plan into motion.

jack’s comment read “wow cap, this launch was about as soft as a rock,” while timo’s was along the lines of “soft on the ice, but not on the launches.”

jesper’s was a bit more to the point, simply stating “you’re not supposed to tag her, dumbass.”

before you could read any further comments, your screen was taken over by an incoming call from none other than your new instagram official boyfriend.

“sweetheart, i fucked up. i’m so sorry. i should have asked what you meant last night, but i thought we were just posting about each other. i had no clue it was supposed to be secretive and clever. you should have just told me what to post, now-“

“nico, neeks, calm down. take a breath, it’s fine,” you laugh at his rambles, interrupting his spiral that started the second you answered the phone, not even getting to say hello.

“you’re…not mad?” he stops mid-sentence, confused at your lack of fury at his mistake.

“no, i’m not mad. even if it did cause my phone to nearly crash because of how many notifications were coming through, it was cute,” you smile through your sentence, even though he can’t see you.

“oh…well….i guess i didn’t need to leave practice early then, huh?” he tells you, right as you hear the door open to your apartment, nico standing there with the key you gave him in hand.

you hang up your phone, standing from your couch and walking over towards him.

“why in the world would you leave practice early for something as silly as this?” you stand with your hands on your hips, looking at him disapprovingly.

he doesn’t meet your eye, seeming bashful all of a sudden. “well…if you were going to yell at me i would rather have had you do it in person, that way i could kiss you and tell you i loved you in person instead of over the phone,” he tells you honestly, looking like a little boy getting scolded by his parents.

rolling your eyes at him, you walk over and run your hands through his hair, letting your hands stop at the nape of his neck, arms resting on his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“well i’m not mad, but you can still kiss me and tell me you love me, since the entire state of new jersey—well, the united states and most of switzerland, probably—knows now,” you poke fun at him, scratching the bottom of his scalp while his arms come to circle around your waist.

smirking down at you, he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, barely able to savor it before his phone starts buzzing like crazy in his pocket, distracting both of you.

“now listen, i know i don’t have that many followers to freak out about my new hockey star boyfriend, so who’s blowing your phone up?” you pull back from the kiss, looking down at where his phone rests in the pocket of his sweats.

he pulls the device out, bringing it over so both of you can look at it. you see the messages continue to come through, the same name being seen on all of them: “the handsome devils”.

“that’s your groupchat name? the handsome devils? how original” you laugh at the team’s lack of creativity.

“it was jack’s idea,” nico shrugs, the explanation making perfect sense.

you can hardly read the messages because they’re coming in so fast, but you catch a few.

“nico, do we need to host an instagram class in lieu of practice one day?” dougie offers his admin skills to his captain.

“cap, even i know that soft launch means partial, not a full face shot,” followed by “i didn’t mean that the way that sounded, jack, don’t laugh,” from curtis, and then a “HAHAHA” from jack.

“does this mean i have to start calling her mom?” from luke was the last one you saw before looking up at nico, his furrowed brow showing his annoyance with his teammates.

you reach up to smooth the wrinkle between his full brows, leading him to look up at you instead of his phone.

“nico, they’re just poking fun. they all mean well,” you assure him, taking the still buzzing phone from his hands.

he pouts at you anyways, huffing out a sigh. “i just…felt really bad about all of this and they were all laughing at me when i was rushing out of the locker room, worried you were about to break up with me.”

you can’t help but let out your own laugh, finding it comical he actually thinks you would break up with him. his pout deepens at your laugh, crossing his arms and tucking into himself, yet again looking like a child.

“nico, i’m sorry, i’m not laughing at you, it’s just funny you think i’d break up with you over being too excited to tell people we’re dating and posting one of my favorite pictures of us on your very public instagram,” you assure him, untucking his arms from themselves and placing them back around your waist.

he lets himself relax a bit, getting comfortable in his hold on you again. “it is a really good picture of us, isn’t it?” he asks, looking down at you.

you nod your head yes, humming out a “mhmmm” before standing on your tip toes and pressing a kiss to his nose.

“now, why don’t we go make ourselves comfortable on the couch, order food, and think of snarky comebacks to send to your teammates for making fun of you?” you suggest, causing his face to light up.

“i knew i loved you for a reason,” he says enthusiastically, taking your arm and dragging you over towards the couch.

[trendywaifus]

you have a habit of kissing miyabi on the lips and saying “ i love you “ as goodbye whenever she leaves for her duties. she’s so used to it by now that she’s expects it and looks forward to it in her mornings with you.

so when you don’t do it one morning before she leaves for work and only waved her goodbye as a prank, miyabi was . .confused?

“ (name). .aren’t you going to. .? “ she trails off, puzzled. standing by the door with her petite frame, ready in her uniform and precious sword at hip. miyabi seems to bear a neutral expression, yet, her brows are slightly furrowed, and her long fox ears occasionally twitches.

you act dumb, giving her a confused look. “ huh? i waved you goodbye. i’ll call and visit you later today.”

“ but you don’t wave me goodbye. you usually say i love you and kiss me on the lips as a routine between us. why is today different? “ she inquired blandly with a curious tilt of her head. miyabi maybe sharp but she’s oblivious to the teasing glint in your eyes.

“ what if i just want today to be different this time, love? you should go off to work before you’re— “

“ no, i refuse. “ miyabi interjects swiftly, eyes slightly narrowing.

“ huh? “

“ i wish for my kiss and i love you from you. there’s no way i’ll go out without good luck from my lover. my strikes will guaranteed to be off by 0.5 cm and I wouldn’t be at my prime. “ miyabi explains seriously, crossing her arms, not stepping an inch out the door.

you snorted, “ lovely, you’re literally crazy strong. 0.5 isn’t that much at all. “

“ it is. anyone will have a chance at defeating me in this state if i go out like this.”

you raise a brow, “ so you’re telling me that you’ll be weakened and late for work if i don’t give you good luck? “

“ yes, exactly that. but i won’t be late for work. i can be there within fifteen minutes if i avoid the route I usually take and jump to building to building instead. it’ll be good training for me to hone my speed.” miyabi replies in a matter-a-fact tone, looking at you with expecting eyes.

“ that’s called rushing for work but alright, alright.” you breath out a sigh, walking over to her short form. miyabi doesn’t hide the way her eyes brighten up with satisfaction. you place a hand on her waist and she immediately closes her eyes. leaning down, you draw closer and. . plant a kiss right on her relaxed brow.

“ i love you, my strong fox. “ you murmur with a mischievous grin. despite her milky cheeks turning pink, miyabi lets out a dissatisfied sigh.

“ you didn’t kiss me where i wanted. “

without saying anything, you kissed her nose. she emits out a cute little grunt.

“ not there either. . are you attempting to tease me now? “ the fox thiren asks in a subtle flustered tone.

now? you were doing it this whole time. miyabi’s so precious.

“ i’m sorry, pretty. here. “

finally, you kiss her lips, a chaste gesture that is meant to appeal miyabi’s dissatisfaction. after a moment, you try to break the kiss but her hand swiftly comes in contact with the back of your head, keeping you still. “ mmph? “ miyabi locks her lips with yours smoothly as she angles her head.

where did she learn that? this is new.

she kisses you until your chest becomes tight with limited oxygen. “ wh-when did you learn how to do that? “ you utter breathlessly, breaking away from the kiss. miyabi was bit of a stiff kisser so she have to had seen this somewhere.

“ me and the manager watched a romance movie together and i wanted to try that with you. i’m satisfied now, i’ll see you later. “

just like that, she moves away, opens the front door, and casually leaves out.

. .she wasn’t bad at all.

[starlighttsv]

Day 5

Merry Christmas Baby - p.b

Sum: reader surprises Paige for Christmas during Christmas break

Warnings: just fluff

Note: Merry Christmas Eve to all who celebrate 🫶

Pair: Paige x longdistancegf!reader

Wc: 1.2k

Requested by @rosemariiaa lmk if there is anything you want added or changed

My masterlist

“Ma’am, Ma’am we’re landing ” you’re shaken awake by the sweet old lady sitting next to you “mm thank you ma’am” you groan out sleepily starting to sit up and stretch “is this your first time flying?” She asks you while you’re situating yourself in your seat. “No. Me and my girlfriend are long distance so we always fly to each other when we can.” She nods “is this your first time?” You ask back while the plane starts going down “No. just my first time without my husband, he’s already in Minnesota with our family” you nod and before you can reply she asks another question “Does your girlfriend know your coming? Or is it a surprise?”

“It’s a surprise. Her dad and step mom are helping me pull it off” she nods saying “that’s so sweet, I remember when me and my husband were young and doing long distance. It is hard and challenging but if you both really want it then it’s not impossible.” “Thank you, we’re trying.” She nods and gives you a pat on your arm, starting to stand up as the plane has landed “it was nice talking to you, I hope you and your girlfriend have a very merry Christmas!”

“You too! Merry Christmas to you and your family!” You replied back also starting to stand up so you can get your carry-on, she smiles at you and says thank you. You both eventually end up walking off the plane and making your way to baggage claim. You’ve been texting Bob since you got off the plane as he was gonna be the one to pick you up, he said Moe took Paige to the mall so they could do some Christmas shopping

Once you got your luggage you started making your way to the area bob said he was. When you see him you immediately start walking a little faster, hugging him once you reached him

“Hey! How was your flight?” He questions while hugging you back “good, long though.” He laughs “well yeah, you just flew from Boston to Minnesota. Figured we could go get some food and then take you back home, Moe just texted saying they’re just entering the last store for today.”

You nod agreeing to what he just said “I’m starving so I’m good with this plan.” He just chuckles and takes your suitcase from you, leading you out of the airport and to the car

You guys have just gotten back to the house after eating and now are trying to hurry and figure out the best way to do the surprise. “What if I left my bags out in the living room or by the front door and went up to her room, and you told her a guest made it a few days earlier then Christmas and that she’s sharing her room with said guest, and then ask her to bring my bags up to her room and then she’ll see me?”

“Yeah that could work-“ he gets cut off hearing a car pull into the drive way “go hide!” He tells you making you run up the stairs and into Paige’s room. You lay down on her bed and go on your phone, you hear the front door open and then some talking - when you hear Paige start coming up the stairs you put your phone down and look at the door waiting for her to come in.

When she knocks on the door you don’t answer making her think the guest that her father would not tell her who was asleep, giving her the go ahead to open the door and put the bags against the wall. She starts walking out of the door so you quickly knock down her water bottle that was on her nightstand to make her look in your direction and when she does she gasps and her eyes widen

“Wait-“ she cuts herself off “hey baby!” When you say that it’s like her brain unfreezes cause she’s immediately running towards the bed and jumping on you. You laugh hugging her back.

“How’d you get here? When’d you get here? What?” She says fully shocked that you’re even here “Bob and Moe helped me pay for my flights, and we had just gotten to the house when you and Moe pulled in.” She just looks at you surprised “she’s one of your Christmas presents by the way. Flights during Christmas are extremely expensive” Bob says in the doorway of her room jokingly

She just turns her head still laying on you “ that’s fine, she’s the greatest gift I could’ve gotten” Bob just shakes his head amusingly and leaves the doorway heading back downstairs.

“How long are you here?” She asks turning back to you “3 weeks” you can tell she’s confused but excited that your gonna be here that long “two of the weeks are my winter break and I’m taking a week off of school so I can see some of your basketball games” she doesn’t say anything and instead just hugs you shoving her face in your neck “I love you so much” she mumbles into you

“I love you more” you say kissing her on her forehead. She shakes her head and lifts her head away from your neck so it’s hovering over your face “not possible” she mumbles over your lips, immediately kissing you after saying that

It’s now Christmas morning, Paige had woken up a few minutes ago and started playing with your hair and kissing you all over your face trying to wake you up.

Now you’re laying your head on her chest with one arm draped across her stomach drawing random shapes on her stomach while she fiddles with the ends of your hair

“I can’t wait to spend these 3 weeks with you.” Paige mumbles into your hair. You just lean up and give her a few kisses “I love you” you mumble against her “and I love you” she pulls you back in to the kiss

You both pull away after a few seconds “Drew’s gonna be storming in here in about 3 minutes” Paige says making you laugh a little bit “then I guess we should get up” you say looking at her making her groan out and pull you into her more “I just want to lay in bed and cuddle with you” she pouts “well we can cuddle on the couch?” She just groans but starts getting up from the bed

She helps you get up and then you both walk out the door immediately seeing Drew on his way to Paige’s room - making him stop in his tracks for a minute before he runs up to both of you grabbing both of your hands and “pulling” you guys to the living room

You and Paige sit on the love seat while everyone else sits on the couch or the floor, Bob starts passing out the presents with everyone opening theirs. Once the gifts are opened and the food is eaten everyone decided to watch a movie before we all had to get dressed.

Your laying your head on Paige’s chest again with her still fiddling with the ends of your hair, while you focus on the Christmas movie playing right now

“Merry Christmas baby” Paige whispers in your ear

[kbstanny]

Treatment (Zayne/Reader)

✿ Fandom: Love and Deepspace

✿ Pairing: M/F

✿ Tag: NSFW

✿ Mentions: smut, mild injury mentions

✿ Word count: 5,051

✿ Summary: She had no choice but to see Dr. Zayne for treatment after a Wanderer left her injured, but his cure for her anguish wasn't quite what she had in mind.

✿ A/N: Hey! This my first fic on this website, and it's on a game I only started playing a week ago 😭

Because I'm a new player, I don't really know the world or the story very well, so if there are inaccuracies then you know why. However, I've also avoided specific plot details for this very reason.

I hope you enjoy!

Damned Knave.

She tightly gripped the gash on her thigh, limping her way down the dark deserted path. She'd received reports of disturbances down at the old munitions factory and had gone to investigate. Wanderers had been sighted after hours, so she'd gone late into the evening, and solo, as her ever-elusive partner had been unavailable. She'd handled herself fine, but a rather tricky Knave had managed to cut right through the top of her thigh.

Once she eventually hobbled her way to a street lamp, she could investigate her injuries properly. Shakily, she removed her blood-stained hands from the wound, then hummed — It didn't look too severe. The gash was long, but not so deep, stretching from her inner thigh up toward her hip. The blood made things a lot nastier than they needed to be, and the pain was bearable, at least for now. She'd hail a taxi and treat the damage at home, and if it didn't feel much better by morning, she'd consult her physician. But Dr. Zayne was a last resort.

Once morning came, she did not feel better.

The pain woke her up before her alarm did. It stung intensely, and the surrounding skin was hot and numb. Clearly rubbing alcohol, a cocktail of painkillers and gauze wasn't going to cut it. Carefully, she unwrapped the bandage to take a look at her injury — it still didn't seem too bad. Inflamed, a little gnarly, but far from incapacitating. Just painful. But she'd faced foes much fiercer than some stupid Herte Knave, and obtained injuries far more gruesome. For now, she'd suck it up. She had a job to do.

—

"Oh my god!" Tara gasped. "When did that happen?" Her friend asked her, leaning in to the picture on her phone. She'd snapped the pic before getting ready for work this morning, thinking it would be a funny story to tell to Tara at the office. But her friend's reaction was a little more alarmed than she'd anticipated.

"Last night, at the factory. There were some serious beasts down there, but you wanna know caused that? A Knave of all things." She chuckled, shaking her head. Tara didn't look so amused.

"Aren't you hurt? Have you been to the doctor?"

"It's just a scratch, Tara, I'll be fine."

"That is not just a scratch! That needs stitches!—"

"What needs stitches?"

Captain Jenna approached the two, her arms folded tightly across her chest. She had a scrutinising look in her eye, one that said 'Why are you chatting and not working?' It reminded her of her old teachers.

The hunters were silent, looking between each other. She shot Tara a warning look, but Tara ignored it, turning the phone to face Jenna. "This does."

Jenna leaned in, her eyebrows raising, breaking her steely expression. "Why yes, it does... Is this you?" She looked to her, and she sighed softly, a little embarrassed.

"Yes, but I feel fine. I promise. If I didn't, I'd take the day off."

"Have you had it treated?" Jenna cut to the chase.

"...No." She admitted, and Jenna sighed.

"Well go. At once. That could easily get infected." The captain straightened up, her tone commanding. There was no room for negotiation. "Honestly, I thought you'd have more sense than to leave an injury like that unattended." With that, Jenna walked away. She waited until her captain was out of sight before standing and addressing Tara.

"Did you really have to snitch on me?" Though she already knew she would — anything to impress Jenna. Tara gave a sheepish look.

"Well I had to do something! I'm only looking out for you." But she pat Tara's shoulder, shaking her head and smiling.

"I know, I know, you're right... as usual. I really shouldn't ignore it. Thanks Tara." Tara gave a knowing smile.

"I am usually right! Now go and see Zayne. He might be a little scary but he knows what he's doing." They both chuckled at that.

Tara knew what her friend was hesitant to admit: It wasn't that she was ignorant of the risks of open wounds, nor was she a particularly nervous patient. She just didn't want to see Zayne.

Not because the doctor was in any way cruel or unpleasant, he wasn't even scary as such. But the doctor was so cold, and the icy chill of his eyes permeated her core with a mere glance her way. Zayne had been an old forgotten friend, a dear one, but now he was a figurehead for her ailments. All that time they'd spent together as children seemed meaningless now. They couldn't have drifted further apart. Zayne was a bad omen, and a sign her past had been well and truly shattered.

But that was only half of the reason. The other reason, the more embarrassing one, was that she found Zayne stupidly attractive. Not only because he had the face of an angel and a body carved from marble, but for his work ethic, his dedication, his intelligence. And of course, she couldn't help but feel sentimental toward him over the time they'd spent together as kids. She yearned to reconnect with him. He had a potent effect on her. When she was near him, his mere presence was enough to suck the words out of her mouth, to reduce her to a shrinking violet with no resolve. Like a silly teenager with a crush. And that wasn't like her at all. She hated not having control.

She wasn't certain whether the feeling was mutual. There was something about the way that he looked at her, on occasion, that made her heart flare up. Sometimes she thought he had a tenderness to his tone that he just couldn't have used with everyone, but maybe that was wishful thinking? His concern for her health and wellbeing seemed obsessive, too. Never had her previous physicians been so zealous, but Zayne was a renowned surgeon. Perhaps it was just a sign he was good at his job, and nothing more? She didn't know, and she didn't like thinking about it.

With a deep breath, she rapped on the door to his office. With any luck, he'd be busy, and she'd be forced to return to HQ and schedule an appointment the long way.

"Come in." He answered — Damn.

She walked inside, standing by the door with her hands behind her back. Zayne was busy typing away at his computer, and he hadn't even spared her a glance. She hadn't realised she'd been quiet until Zayne spoke up again.

"Can I help you?"

She snapped out of her daze. "Yes, if you're not too busy. I injured myself while dealing with a Wanderer. I was hoping you could take a look."

It was upon hearing her voice that Zayne decided his patient was more interesting than his computer, and he turned to face her, scrutinising her slightly crooked form, and the way she carried her weight. He thought for a moment or two.

"Your left thigh." How did he know that? She looked down, but her injury was completely concealed, and no blood had seeped through her clothes.

"Yes, how did you—"

"What happened exactly? Take a seat." She nodded, heading to sit down on the chair opposite the doctor, but he shook his head.

"Not there. On the examination table."

"Right."

As she sat down, Zayne quickly punched one final sentence into the keyboard, before turning to face her, waiting for her answer.

"It happened yesterday. A Wanderer, as I said." She clarified, and Zayne hummed.

"So the Wanderer attacked you directly? You didn't sustain this injury through any other means during the battle?" She shook her head. Zayne made a note of this on his computer.

"And do you have any other injuries?" She told him no again.

"Alright. I need to examine you, if that's okay."

She nodded, looking down to where her legs were outstretched on the table, before coming to an awkward realisation: She was wearing pants. She couldn't just pull her skirt up, she'd have to strip the item off entirely.

"Yes, of course." She began to fiddle with the button to her pants, before Zayne stiffened, taking the curtain that surrounded the table.

"Tell me when you're ready." With that, he shut the curtain around her. She released a sigh of relief, grateful for the privacy, though she felt a little stupid for not closing it herself. She wasn't sure how she'd compose herself having to undress in front of him.

Once her pants were off, she came to a second mortifying realisation: Her underwear. The item was black and lacy, made from sheer mesh, hardly concealing her delicate areas. The type you'd wear for a lover, and not at all the sort of thing you'd wear to work. But she'd washed all of her more practical undies yesterday, and thanks to one pesky Knave, hadn't found the time to dry them before morning. If she'd known she'd be stripping down in Zayne's office for an examination, she would have stopped off at the shops on her way to work to buy something cheap and appropriate. Hell, she probably would have bought boxer shorts.

"Shit." She hissed under her breath.

What would Zayne think of her? Surely he'd think it was deliberate. She'd approached him for treatment, and she just so happened to be wearing semi-transparent lingerie? There was no way he'd find that coincidental. He'd think she was some sort of pervert. Was it too late to get out of here?

"Are you alright? Or are you struggling to get changed?" Zayne asked from the other side of the curtain. Her chest felt tight — how long had she been sat there worrying?

"No, I'm fine. I'm ready now." She panicked, blurting out the words despite herself, cursing internally as Zayne pulled back the curtain. The doctor said nothing as his eyes drank in the sight of her, nor did his expression give anything away — Not that she'd know, she avoided his gaze like the plague, staring intently at the floor. But despite his composure, Zayne certainly noticed her indelicate attire. And despite his healing instincts, and the rather prominent gash on her thigh, her panties were the very first thing that held his attention.

Zayne sat beside the bed, on the side of her injured leg, leaning in close to the cut. He took a long look at it, reticent as ever, before finally meeting her gaze.

"What time did this happen yesterday?"

"In the evening."

"And you didn't think to call me when it did?" Zayne pressed. Her words were trapped in her throat for a moment, before she finally pushed them out.

"Well... no. It was late, and it didn't seem so bad at the time."

"It's never too late to check yourself in to a hospital." Zayne stated the obvious. "Whether I was available or not, you should have had this seen to immediately." His tone was stern, his stare unwavering. She said nothing. "When something like this happens, you need to call me, no matter how late it is. I'm your primary care physician, it's what I'm here for. And if I can't see to you personally, I can find someone who can."

"I understand. I will do, next time."

"You really ought to take your health more seriously. You have a duty, as a hunter, to protect people. Lives depend on you. And you can't protect anybody if you can't take adequate care of yourself. Being anything less than thorough with your wellbeing is selfish, and neglectful of your duties." His words made her brows furrow, a mixture of annoyance and shame, but she still didn't respond.

"Injuries sustained through Wanderer attacks are more susceptible to infections. Some are serious, and fast-acting, as you should well know. I cannot stress enough the importance of getting wounds like these seen to as soon as possible—"

"I know, Doctor." She interrupted, a little snappy. "I told you already. I will next time, and I'm here now, aren't I?" But did she have any right to be annoyed with his tone? Deep down she knew she didn't, that she was only being stubborn, but she couldn't help herself.

"Please don't be so reckless next time." Zayne asked her, his tone softer, his eyes so tender she couldn't stand to look at them anymore. She couldn't take it when he scolded her.

The doctor sighed softly through his nose.

"This will need sutures, but I'll need to clean the wound and check for signs of infection first, which requires a physical examination. Is that alright?" His words nearly made her melt.

"That's fine." She composed herself well enough for an answer.

Zayne brought a gloved hand to her thigh, and although the gesture was purely clinical, she couldn't help the heat that rushed to the spot between her legs. His hands were cool, and his touch gentle, so gentle that if she closed her eyes and pictured a different context, it could've been a loving caress. Zayne pressed his fingers firmly against her thigh.

"Does that hurt?"

"No." She answered honestly. Zayne repeated the motion to the space surrounding her injury, his fingers travelling in a small circle, starting from the bottom of the cut, until they creeped inwards. Zayne gently pulled at her thigh, widening her legs as he continued his examination. She was trying her best not to react.

She cast her gaze downwards, to the fingers between her legs, and her heart dropped. From this angle, under the stark white lights, she was clearly exposed. Nothing was left to the imagination. She was so embarrassed she nearly screamed, looking to Zayne to try and gauge his reaction — but she couldn't. He was too focused on the task at hand.

Her breath became shaky as she observed the way he prodded at her, how his fingers crept ever-closer to her arousal. Just one budge in the opposite direction and those tough, broad hands would be swept over her cunt. Imagining how his fingertips would tickle the mesh of her panties was enough to make her wet.

She heard her name in the recesses of her mind, and then again. Only the second time did she realise it was coming from Zayne's lips.

She snapped back to reality, looking back at him with eyes wider than intended. He stared back at her with a cutting gaze.

"I asked you whether it hurt, where I was touching you." He repeated. She opened her mouth to speak, but it was a few moments before she could cough the words out.

"No— no, sorry. I was a million miles away." She chuckled sheepishly.

Zayne looked back at her, giving nothing away. How exciting, he thought, that he could tell exactly what was going through her mind, yet she didn't have a clue what he was thinking? Zayne was extraordinarily good at hiding his emotions, but his patient? Not so much.

She was embarrassed, that much was clear. Whether the lingerie was a wardrobe malfunction or a bold decision she quickly came to regret, he wasn't sure.

What was also clear was that she liked it — what he declined to express was that he did too.

How could he not? If it were anybody else, he wouldn't give such scandalous attire a second thought. As a doctor, he was indiscriminate; a body was just a body. He'd seen the hidden corners of countless beautiful women and it never swayed his commitment to his work or hindered his professionalism — not once. But she was different. Surely, despite how reserved he was, she could tell that she was different? That this tension between them was all but ordinary?

"I don't believe you have an infection, but I'd like to see you in a week for observation. If anything changes, let me know immediately." He told her, his tone as stoic as ever. Yet his hand lingered at her inner thigh, so close to her cunt she was sure he could feel the heat through his gloves. Eventually, he did move his hand. Despite his feelings, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Zayne then proceeded with the usual cleaning and dressing procedures, and she suppressed a hiss as he swabbed the wound with antiseptic. During this entire exchange, she'd been uncharacteristically quiet, whereas Zayne was as quiet as usual. The silence was unbearable, she wasn't sure she could ever recall a time where she'd felt so awkward that it hurt. Her body was so tense, and her lust swelled so needily that she couldn't suppress the words that left her mouth next.

"I'm sorry about the underwear." She blurted, her apology cutting through the tension like a hot knife through butter. But it didn't take long for the searing metal to scorch her skin — she regretted the words almost the moment she'd said them.

Zayne paused, placing down the suture needle he was prepping before staring straight back at her. There was a hint of mirth behind his eyes, that came into fruition through a small, teasing smile.

"Don't apologise." His tone was gentle and neutral.

Did he say that so things wouldn't be uncomfortable, or because he liked the look of them?

"I didn't wear these because I knew you'd see them, all my other pairs hadn't dried. And I wasn't even going to see you in the first place, I only did because Jenna told me to!" She couldn't help but explain herself, a grimace on her face, but Zayne remained quiet as he brought the needle to the cut.

The anaesthetic numbed the pain. She felt uncomfortable again, with Zayne's sudden silence. She wondered whether he'd respond at all, whether she'd made things too awkward, but Zayne was simply mulling over the best thing to say.

"You don't usually wear lingerie to work, then?" He enquired, meeting her gaze once he'd pulled the stitch through. She chuckled bashfully, dipping her head.

"No. Never. They've been irritating me all day." Zayne hummed at this, continuing with his sutures. "Why, would you prefer it if I did?"

She wasn't sure where such boldness had come from. Likely it was that her lips below were talking for the ones above, despite how twisted up she felt inside. Yet again, she quickly regretted her pitiful attempt at flirting, until Zayne seemed to bite.

He met her eyes again, his smile wider now. He loved seeing her so playful. "I'm not sure I can come up with an answer that's both professional and true."

Her desire burned at his words, so brightly that she swore she could feel a hole forming in her chest. She clenched, unwittingly, never had she been so eager to feel him. A Cheshire-cat smile stretched across her face, the type of smile that she was sure made her look silly, yet Zayne found it endearing.

She began to laugh, though at first it was deep in the pit of her stomach, and Zayne continued with his work. But she couldn't help her laughter, the swell of emotions overtaking her. Embarrassed, yet immensely satisfied. How unexpected that things were beginning to work out for her?

Zayne finished the sutures, gathering fresh gauze as he began to dress the wound, amused by her reaction. "Do you truly find me that funny?" He asked in a level tone, and her laughter died down so that she could respond.

"Zayne, you are the furthest thing from funny." Though she didn't elaborate, as there was no need. Her belly full of butterflies was clear without words. The doctor hummed and finished dressing the wound.

She watched him as quiet settled over them again, but this time it wasn't an awkward silence. Instead, it was charged with sexual tension. Zayne stopped looking at her thigh in favour of the warmth between her legs. He stared, unabashedly, and the look on his face struck a bolt of fresh arousal through her heart.

He took his gloves off, then slowly, he reached over, tracing his fingertip over the lacy edge of her underwear. "Why do you have underwear like this anyway? Do you have a partner?" He asked her. She thought he sounded almost a little possessive, but it was clear another man in the picture wouldn't stop him anyways. His eyes flitted up to hers.

Her face felt hot at the question. Goosebumps prickled up across her skin in an instant, her cunt twitching from the subtle contact. "No."

"No?" He tested, taking his finger directly over her heat, stroking it up and down over the thin mesh of her panties. He could feel her wetness soaking through, and the way she twitched under his touch. "Then I'm right to assume that these are only for me?" There was a mischievous glint in his eye, one that she mirrored.

"That's right."

Her answer pleased him. She spread her legs a little wider, resisting the urge to moan despite the fact he'd hardly touched her. Zayne slipped his fingers beneath her underwear, finally feeling her properly. The sensation made her gasp.

He merely trailed his touch along the length of her cunt, between her folds, sticky with her slick. He was teasing her, taking his precious time as he lapped up the look on her face.

"You're already so wet."

His voice was collected. He was completely in control, while the woman at the end of his fingers was quickly unravelling by the second. She said nothing, releasing a shaky breath. Zayne stood, sitting opposite her on the table.

He took his fingers from the lips below to the ones above, tracing them gently, before taking hold of her jaw. He pulled her forward, and their lips collided in a greedy kiss. She poured her desire into him, clasping him tightly, pulling him closer, her eyes clenched shut as he expelled the tension from her form.

Yet Zayne, as always, appeared composed. He parried her hungry affections effortlessly, his grip on her jaw becoming firm. Zayne led the charge, as he guided her lips against his, eventually setting their pace. She slowed down to appreciate him, but before long the kiss was broken. Zayne pulled away with a soft smile, his lips a little puffy as he pressed them chastely to her cheek.

He brought his fingers to her lips again. "Suck them for me." His command was gentle without losing its timbre, and she obeyed, sucking on the digits without question, briefly, until he pulled them out of her mouth. Zayne brought his wetted fingers back to her cunt, pulling her underwear to one side and sticking his fingers firmly against her.

She huffed at the sensation. His fingers were still a little cold, warmer now thanks to her mouth. She clenched, feeling empty, needing him inside of her.

Zayne rolled his fingers over her clit, and not too slowly, which took her by surprise. She moaned already, widening her legs for him. He wore a focused expression, lust sparking beneath his pointed gaze.

He sat more comfortably between her legs, taking her thigh, before inserting a finger into her cunt. She whined, though she was wet enough to offer no resistance. He pushed it deep inside of her in one, smooth motion.

She clenched tightly with her core, as if to hold on to him, wanting to keep him inside of her, sighing as he pulled his finger out, only for him to add a second.

This was a tighter fit. She moaned, trying to keep her voice down, angling her hips up to feel him better. Zayne slowly began to pump both his fingers, up deep inside of her then down to the tips. The friction of her walls against him was marvellous.

"You feel wonderful." He told her, his eyes locked on hers, fixed on every micromovement. Everything about her, from the sound of her voice, the small parting in her lips, the sight of her so uninhibited before him — it was poetry in motion. This woman, as capable and stubborn as she was, was helpless at his touch.

I do feel wonderful, she thought, scoffing at Zayne's compliment. She felt blissful, like a ball of a thousand knots had at once been untied, releasing a deep strain she'd been harbouring in her stomach. Ever since she'd reunited with Dr. Zayne, those ties had knotted. Every time she'd seen him, the palpable tension between them had grown and grown. Until now.

Zayne sat up straight, then hoisted her up, taking his fingers out briefly to pull her panties off entirely, carelessly discarding the item on the floor. It was only a momentary distraction — soon Zayne's fingers slipped past her walls yet again, though this time he was positioned beside her, his other arm hooked around her waist, holding her close.

He pumped his fingers faster, his motions mechanical, his rhythm never wavering, and she struggled to contain the sound of her mewls.

"Shh. You need to be quieter." He hushed her, gently. "As much as I love hearing you, the walls here aren't so thick." He managed a chuckle, dipping his head to her neck, pressing a short trail of kisses down its length. This made her shiver

"That's— that's the wrong way to get me to be quiet." She scolded, playfully, matching his smile. Her words were breathy and choppy from her efforts to conceal her pleasure.

"Noted." Zayne turned her head toward his, then caught her lips in another kiss, one more frenzied than the first. Zayne used his lips to muffle the noises coming out of hers, eating every moan and whine she poured into him. He pushed his fingers as deep as they could reach inside of her, stroking her walls with a beckoning motion. Meanwhile, he played with her clit with his thumb, breaking their kiss to observe her reactions.

She looked divine. Her lips were wet and inflamed, dripping with saliva, her hair tousled, her expression languid. And he could see how she tried so hard to keep quiet for him, how her whimpers bubbled in her mouth, how hard she breathed through her nose. She felt she must have looked silly, but Zayne didn't think so at all.

"So you can do what you're told?" He teased, sounding more playful than she'd ever heard him. She huffed at this, far too wound up to retort.

He suddenly began to pump his fingers again, faster than before, which took her time to adjust to. She gasped, but caught most of the sound in her mouth, her eyes fluttering shut.

She could feel her climax swelling. It couldn't be far away. Her body felt tight and hot, her face clenched with the torment of having to keep quiet. She held his hand, leaning into him, her movements becoming fidgety as she tried to channel her stimulation. Again, she clenched at Zayne's fingers, bucking her hips to take more of them. Seeing her so desperate for him was so exciting.

"You're doing so well." He didn't tease her anymore, cooing into her ear. His husky tone was enough to make her moan again, that one slipping right past her defences, ringing loud and clear. Oops.

She bit her lips, flashing Zayne an apologetic look, though he didn't seem to mind, nor did he slow down. Another pang of pleasure rippled through her, and at that she knew it was time.

"Zayne— I'm close—" She just about choked the words out, her hand coming to clamp her mouth shut. Somehow, in the heat of things, she'd forgotten she had that option.

He sped up a final time, his fingers flashing in and out of her with a series of thick squelches. Zayne fingered her like a machine, one clever in its design — to be so quick and accurate without being brutal. She felt her whole body tense, a flush of great heat washing over her, choking out her gasps as she buried her head in Zayne's shoulder. Then, at once, she reached her release.

Her body quickly went lax, the heat and strain fizzing out of her, skin tingling. It took her a few good gasps to regain her composure, eyes slowly opening. When she looked down, the light sheet on the table had been soaked through with her release, her legs glistening with sweat. Slowly, Zayne pulled his fingers out of her, earning a whine from the weary woman. He brought those fingers to his lips, sucking away her juices.

He sent her a smile, pulling her against his chest. "Did you like that?" Surely the answer was obvious, and she sent him a look that spoke a thousand words. His smile deepened. "I'm glad."

"I hope I wasn't too loud..." She mused, looking to Zayne, who leaned in to press a soft kiss to her temple. A delicate gesture that made her heart stir.

"You were. But don't worry about it." She scoffed at that, too tired to do anything but listen to him. Before she could return the favour and get Zayne off, she needed a few minutes to gather herself.

But Zayne didn't seem the least bit concerned about his own satisfaction — seeing her hit ecstasy was all he needed. He rubbed at her inner thigh, the one that wasn't injured, giving her a slightly regretful look.

"I have an appointment in twenty minutes, so unfortunately you're going to have to leave soon." The words weighed heavy on her chest, even though she knew that was stupid, nodding at Zayne with a cheeky smile.

"That's not a problem, I can make it quick." She reached over to the tent in Zayne's crotch, but he took her hand, moving it away.

"I can sort myself out." He assured her. She couldn't help but feel a little rejected. Sensing this, he stroked her cheek.

"You can make it up to me another time." They both smiled at that, staring at each other for what felt like hours.

"I'll never avoid making an appointment again."

They probably would have kept staring if it weren't for the startling knock at the door, and the concerned voice of one of the nurses that followed.

"Doctor Zayne? Is everything alright in there? I heard a lot of noise!"

[smallgodseries]

“Are you doing Secret Santa this year?”

“Yeah, but I got Chloe, and you know she never likes what anyone gets her, and she always comes in under the dollar amount by as much as she can get away with.  That wouldn’t be so bad, except she brags about it.  You were supposed to be getting me a Christmas present!  Why is it appropriate to tell me that you saved seventeen dollars out of a twenty dollar budget?  It’s like, come on, Chloe, read the room.”

“At least you don’t have to put too much effort into whatever you get for her.”

“True.  It’s just going to wind up at next week’s White Elephant party no matter what.  Ooo, maybe I should get some of that bodywash I like!”

“Isn’t she allergic to that?”

“Show me where I care.”

Santa—true Santa, Santa prime, Santa in the sky with reindeer—is not a small god.  Santa will insist that he isn’t a god at all, but he carries the hopes and prayers of children, monuments are built in his honor, and priests garb themselves in replicas of his raiment to grant absolution.  He is a god, like it or not, and he is not a small one.  He stands outside the purview of our chronicles.

Krampus, while he once had a shot at the big sleigh, lost that bid thanks to a less than marketable image and a fondness for stuffing naughty children into his sack, and has since settled in to a slightly narrower sphere of holiday cheer.  And while he still does all the traditional Krampus things—lots of respect for tradition at the North Pole—his main sphere of influence is a little more adult in nature.

When you think “I could pocket half the budget” or “I don’t like Becky from HR enough to get her anything good,” Krampus is there.  Putting you on the naughty list, remembering your name.  When you think “peanuts are delicious, who cares if she’s allergic, maybe she’ll give them to me,” Krampus judges you even if no one else can.

Judges, but doesn’t stop.  Because there are many ways to punish the naughty, and they don’t all end with childhood.  He can’t truly live as he desires unless you sometimes misbehave.

Disappoint Krampus.  Be a good Secret Santa this year.

His sack is waiting.

[ts-janus-rp-blog]

"That's... That's what they do? I... Seriously? I...had no idea... No one ever told me... Course... I also never asked questions. But... That can't be true... Maybe you misunderstood someone... Or they were telling you lies. Cause there's no way they'd do that..."

"You think so? Alright, maybe that's the option we'll go with. I just hope he'll listen and that it'll work... Cause I do think he'll be great for Roman. They seem similar enough that I'm sure he'll be a great hybrid for Roman. I don't want to get rid of Patton cause of that, you know? Roman will kill me if I do... I... Okay... I'll figure it out... Thanks, Ems." Roman flashed him a small smile before he moved to stand up. "What sort of command do you think it should be? What? Stop? Shut up? Uh..." He tilted his head. "Sit? No... Uh..."

Patton knocked desperately at the strangers door, praying someone, anyone was home. His heart beat as fast and loud as the rain thundering against the sidewalk. He was sure he was being followed, they were going to catch him. They were going to drag him back. He wasn't sure if whoever lived here might be worse, but he was willing to risk it at this point. Anything to escape.

{@moralpuppylover2}

Janus didn't know who would be at the door. It was late, but his master won't surely be home at this time. He normally doesn't get home until the sun starts to come up.

So, as the dog hybrid walked up to the door and opened it, he wondered who it could be. And if he should open it at all... Who knows, he may get in trouble with his master for opening the door. But, his curiosity was getting the better of him-

He stopped when he saw the soaking wet cat standing at the doorway. He could tell that this cat needed help almost immediately. Well, if his poor state of clothes were anything to go by. His eyes flickered up and down the sidewalk before he grabbed pattons arm and pulled him inside.

"are you alright?" Janus nervously asked as he grabbed a towel from the mud room. "Well, that's a stupid question, of course you're not alright! Are you...running away from your owners?" As Janus walked, the collar around his neck would jingle loudly. And even though it was cold outside and even in the house, he only had a pair of boxers on. Because of that, Patton would be able to see the numerous large scars that covered his body...and the countless amounts of fresh bruises.

@moralpuppylover2