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riversofmars · 3 days ago

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When All The Lights Go Out

Clearly, I lied when I said I would never write any Caitvi fic... Needed it out of my system, something something General Caitlyn Kiramman. I'm a predictable lesbian and can't wait until two weeks time for things to hopefully get fixed.

Spoilers for end of Act 1 of the second season. Porn with plot. Enjoy.

Vi is not prepared to give up on Caitlyn after their altercation in the ventilation shafts, at least not without having it out with her. Soon enough she finds herself back in her bedroom, climbing in through the window once more, and encounters the newly appointed General of Piltover. (Rating: Explicit)

“What the fuck are you wearing?”

Of all the things Vi had pictured she’d say when she sought out Caitlyn following their altercation in the ventilation shafts, that was not it. It was a blunt and ill-advised observation, but also all she could think to say when she laid eyes on her. Set in dark blue and gold as her enforcer uniform - familiar yet utterly foreign - Caitlyn wore a long cape that made her appear taller than she already was, and more menacing too, as her eyes snapped up to meet Vi’s across the room.

The newly crowned General of Piltover had strode into her bed chambers with purpose, unaware of the intruder waiting to greet her, and she stalled. It was hardly more than a flicker of uncertainty and surprise that flashed up in her steely blue eyes, but it was immediately drowned in the ocean of dark water. If eyes truly were a window into the soul, Vi dreaded to think what it meant for the woman in front of her. They had once been one of her favourite features of hers, full warmth and kindness, but now they were empty of such frivolousness - sharp, calculating, and cold.

It was more than obvious that Vi was not welcome in her home - not anymore - and part of her wondered why she had come at all. Perhaps it was a desire to stand up for herself, perhaps a desire to find some measure of closure, perhaps simply her desire for Caitlyn alone, pathetic as it was to think after what she had done. Whatever it was, it rooted her heavy boots to the floor and made her square her jaw in defiance.

Of course Vi had not arrived through the main doors, imagining Caitlyn would have instructed her staff not to let her in. Instead she had climbed in by the window, and all the way up the side of her body had ached terribly from the sharp jab of the general’s rifle in her stomach. Vi’d had worse, so many times and from so many, but this was a phantom pain, sharper, deeper than anything she had ever felt, and she resisted the urge to press her palm against her side that seemed to throb under Caitlyn's gaze.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was sharp, much like every aspect of her appeared to be. Even her features seemed more angular, more set, as she stared her down with barely contained anger bubbling beneath the surface. She had not forgiven Vi for what she had said and done, nothing had changed, and Vi was beginning to sense the futility of her quest.

“I- I couldn't-” She hated how her voice shook, but it was a reflection of where they stood, with Caitlyn at the advantage, holding all the cards, and Vi on the back-foot, the one who had come crawling back. And to what end? “I didn't want to leave things like that,” she strengthened her voice, raising her chin to appear taller than she felt. Everything about being in the world of the Kirammans made her feel small. Perhaps, at least, she could be the bigger person.

There was a moment of silence, turning on the edge of a knife that was gradually snapping single strands from the ties that had bound her to the other woman so fleetingly. The easiest thing for Caitlyn to do would be to simply throw her out, but credit where it was due, she was not one to do the easy thing.

“Do you realise what you said to me?” The general's words cut through the heavy silence, and of course Vi did. On her way over she had replayed their exchange countless times in torturous circles. “That I’m acting like the person who killed my mother.”

‘Because you were.’ Vi knew better than to drive that particular wedge deeper, the words that crossed her lips were different but no less accusatory.

“You said you wouldn’t change.” While a rational part of her knew that there was no way of telling which way grief would take a person, she had wanted to hang on to her promise and that wonderful kiss they had shared. Her first real kiss, come to think of it. She wasn’t completely without experience - in other areas too - but there were only so many real, meaningful encounters one could make when spending their teenage years in prison. None of it had meant anything, and she almost regretted it too, now that she’d had a taste of what the real thing might feel like. Perhaps that was why she wasn’t quite ready to give up yet.

“And you said I should take the shot if I had it!” Caitlyn took a threatening step towards her. “Where was your faith in me? I wouldn’t have missed!” She bared her teeth in anger, like a lioness advancing upon her prey and yes, she had a point. They had both gone back on something they had said, but righteous anger flared up in Vi’s chest as she remained convinced she had made the right call.

“Would you be able to live with yourself if you had?” she shot back, standing her ground and the other woman scoffed, though no joy or amusement was to be drawn from the sound.

“Would you have been able to live with it if I’d found my mark?” she growled and Vi couldn’t mask the flash of uncertainty that crossed her face. When they had marched into the chamber to confront Jinx, she had been sure. She had let Caitlyn take her shot and simply turned away. But when she had seen her sister - much as she tried not to think of her as such anymore - with the child… “Thought so…” Caitlyn spoke bitterly as she seemed to be able to read everything that was going through her mind. “She's still your sister.”

“And you're still an enforcer,” Vi spat, trying to regain some measure of ground in their exchange and she gestured at her change of outfit. “Or whatever the fuck you are now.”

Caitlyn’s expression hardened as though she had just remembered what exactly that was.

“And yet you're here,” she stated simply, looking her up and down, examining the dirty, torn enforcer uniform she was still wearing, lacking other options and ending on the hex-tech gauntlets. “Why?”

She hadn’t expected to see her again. The realisation struck Vi straight in the chest and left her winded. Was it really that easy for her? As easy as it had been to strike her and walk away? Or was she simply trying to act like it was? Vi couldn’t tell, not when Caitlyn hid any thought or emotion that could be perceived as weakness behind the hard façade she’d built.

Vi had no defences such as these to employ and she couldn’t lie either; she wouldn’t! It was time for some honesty at last and her confession tore itself from her throat in a violent outburst, as raw and angry as it was desperate.

“Because you're the only fucking thing I want, even if you embody everything I hate!” she yelled, fixing Caitlyn with a measuring look of her own, drinking in her appearance with bile rising in her throat. “Perhaps I thought that given the chance, having had a moment to reflect on your actions, you might apologise, but that’s not something you people do, is it?”

Caitlyn simply looked back at her, no answer or reaction forthcoming, just a blank, icy stare and with every moment what remained of Vi’s fool's hope drained away, confirming what she should have known. She'd been blinded by what she'd wanted to see.

“Have you ever been challenged on something before?” she continued sharply and advanced towards her, clenching her fists, the movement only pronounced by her gauntlets that shifted menacingly. “Have you ever not gotten your way? Have you ever apologised for anything?!” She raised her voice with every accusation, until it echoed through the bedroom.

There was stillness in the eye of the storm that whipped up around them, grief, disappointment, rage, a deadly flurry. Vi was breathing heavily, pleading silently with Caitlyn, hoping she could reach her behind her impenetrable shield.

Suddenly, in the blink of an eye, it happened: the tension broke, the storm descended and Caitlyn broke out of her trance and senses, surging into Vi's personal space.

“You have no idea how many times over the past few weeks I have apologised to my mother for bringing all this on us!” she roared, losing her poise as her expression oscillated between rage and pain. “For my arrogance! For my stubbornness! For bringing you here and-” Her face was inches from Vi's, and it was a startling difference to the intimacy of the kiss they had shared.

“If you’re still looking for your mother’s forgiveness and approval in all this, I’m sure she would be very proud of what you have become,” Vi hissed, desperately trying to hold together the pieces of her that bent and splintered under the weight of it all. Everyone in her life had changed and where she had held out hope that Caitlyn wasn't too far gone, with every moment the outcome appeared more and more inevitable. Bitterness and disappointment laced her words as she passed her final judgement: “The fearless leader of House Kiramman. As cold as she is strong - a truly worthy successor.”

And there, Caitlyn's last measure of self restraint failed her.

“How dare you speak to me like that!” She yelled and catching Vi off guard, she shoved her backward, up against the wall behind her with an unrelenting grip on the collar of her uniform. She had always been stronger than she looked. “In my room. My house. My city!”

“Your city?” Vi echoed disbelievingly, fighting her body's involuntary reaction to the other woman's proximity, the way her body pushed into her own, the heat of her breath on her face. “Do you even hear yourself?!” It took all she had to fight against her, not because she was lacking in strength, but because of how much she wanted to have Caitlyn close. Desperately, she tried to ignore the ache she felt for her, resisting the ever-present urge to simply kiss her senseless.

Instead she shoved her off.

"And what was I meant to be?” she demanded as the general staggered back. “Just another thing that was yours?!” As tempting a thought as it was, it was so much less than Vi wanted.

“I didn’t force you to stay,” Caitlyn spat, catching herself on her feet. “You wanted to be here!”

“Because I thought you were different!” Vi's voice grew raw, half scream, half sob. “Imagine my disappointment to learn you’re just another power-hungry, selfish Pilti who doesn’t give a shit about people like me!” Despite it all, it felt good to finally have it out, unburden and disillusion herself from the notion that they had ever had a chance.

“I didn’t ask for this power!” Caitlyn seethed, breathing heavily but seeking to reign herself in, return to her composed self, and all Vi could do was shake her head, scoffing bitterly.

“Yet you wear it so well.”

“I think it’s best if you leave now.” Caitlyn decided at last, straightening herself out and raising her jaw. There was complete finality to her tone. They had both said all they needed to. “Take those gauntlets off, they’re not yours to keep.”

“Whatever,” Vi growled, surprising herself as she found she was past caring. She didn't need anything from the people of Piltover, certainly not their fancy weapons. “Give me my clothes back and you can have the uniform too.” She disengaged the locking mechanism of the gauntlets and the metal hit the ground, echoing as silence drew in, heavy and suffocating.

The end, surely.

Tears pricked the corners of Vi's eyes. Giving up was not in her nature but what was she to do in the face of such impossible odds and unrelenting force?

Caitlyn didn't answer but she turned, marching towards one of the chest of drawers that lined the room. Vi couldn't see her face as she busied herself in the task of pulling a drawer open, but she could have sworn her shoulders seemed to slump, if just for a moment. When she turned back, however, she’d pulled herself to full height once more with an unreadable, cold expression. She was holding a bundle of clothes, clean and neatly folded, the trousers and jacket Vi had arrived in Piltover in. Seeing the care with which they had been treated was almost too much to bear and almost enough to make her try again calmly, with a level head, but she wrote off the notion as quickly as it had occurred when Caitlyn didn't pass them to her as she approached, she simply threw them at her feet.

“If you’ve wanted me to kneel at your feet, princess, you should have played your cards right,” Vi growled spitefully, and swept the items off the floor.

“Fuck you,” Caitlyn hissed and the smaller woman scoffed, never having expected to hear the polite, well-mannered Pilti swear.

“You wish.”

There was a flash of something in Caitlyn's eyes, involuntary, surely, as she betrayed herself. Yes, she did. But it was too late for that now.

Suddenly, the air felt charged and snotty defiance took Vi over. It was petty really, but she was beyond caring. Everything was fucked anyway, and at least it would make her feel a little better to make Caitlyn squirm, show her that she couldn’t control everything.

In a swift motion, Vi tore open the uniform jacket that had always felt too restricting, uncovering her chest bound in nothing but white wraps. She was still dirty from the fight, smeared with dried blood and there was a dark bruise blossoming where Caitlyn had jabbed her with her rifle. But she also had a lean body to offer, strong arms and shoulders, abs that flexed with every one of her deep breaths she forced herself to gulp to try and hold herself together as the last good thing in her life fell apart.

The general took in a sharp breath, and Vi couldn't tell whether it was a reaction to seeing her injury or to seeing her so exposed. It didn't matter. She tossed her jacket at her feet, mirroring her perfectly and cocked an eyebrow.

“Give you something to think about when you're alone in that big bed,” she smirked and Caitlyn's eyes flashed dangerously.

Vi was playing with fire, every little jab adding fuel to the general's simmering, explosive state. She had gotten control of her emotions once more but how long for? Suddenly, the idea of making her lose it again was all too inviting. She would have considered it fun if her motivations weren’t desperately sad. Regardless, she took a step towards Caitlyn and leaned in close.

“You'll be thinking about me and what could have been long after I’ve forgotten your name,” she hummed a blatant lie. It was far more likely it would be the other way around. There was no way Vi would forget about her and the fleeing hope that life had more to offer than pain and misery. How she longed for the Caitlyn that had shown her kindness.

Suddenly, everything seemed to happen all at once. Caitlyn bridged the short distance between them, grabbed a fistful of Vi's hair and yanked her head back with such force that she gasped, only to silence her with a demanding, rough kiss, far removed from the tenderness they had shared.

“Shut up!” she growled, fisting her hand into her hair and pushed her tongue inside her mouth.

Vi kissed her back. Hard. All teeth and tongue, primal and desperate. She was drowning, perhaps they both were, in each other, and she grabbed on to her, clawing into her shoulders and holding on like a lifeline.

“You still want some of this then?” she groaned, but the general didn't meet her eyes. Instead, she dropped her mouth to the side of Vi's throat, ripping her head back further for better access. A whimper escaped her, but the flash of pain was oil to the flame that burned down her inhibitions. Caitlyn’s lips left a searing trail along her jaw, like an electric current licking across her skin.

“This is what you came back for, isn’t it?” she growled against her sensitive, exposed neck, lips pressing against her pulse point, keeping time of her rapid heartbeat. “Might as well see it through till the end.” A gloved hand trailed up her back, untucking her bindings, and Vi’s breath caught in her chest when she realised what was about to happen between them if she didn’t put a stop to it.

She knew they shouldn’t be doing this, nothing good could come of it, but it felt so good. Caitlyn wasted no time, feeling her up, palming her chest, grabbing her arse, dragging the wraps aside and Vi knew she was done for. Every fibre of her being ached for her.

“Fine by me,” she scoffed, trying to mask the desperate need in her voice and it seemed her consent had been all the general had been waiting for as she started to walk her backwards towards the large bed that dominated the room. She seemed intent on having things her way and Vi didn’t even fight, heat pooling in her gut, all too readily following her lead. Her legs hit the edge of the bed and Caitlyn shoved her down without hesitation, climbing on top of her. She tore away the last of her bindings and wrapped her lips around one of her nipples, dragging the thin metal rod of her piercing between her teeth.

“Fuck-” Vi gasped, overwhelmed by the intense sensation and she tried to reach for the other woman, trying to grab a hold of her shoulders, but Caitlyn seemed to have other ideas. She straightened up swiftly and grabbed Vi by the throat as she attempted to follow, shoving her onto the bed and pinning her there.

“I’m going to,” she groaned, undeniably as aroused as the woman beneath her.

With her fingers digging into her throat, Vi watched, transfixed as she brought her other hand to her lips, grasping the fingertip of her glove between her teeth and dragged her hand free.

A whimper escaped Vi, an embarrassing sound, but this was without a doubt the single most erotic thing she had ever witnessed, particularly when that very hand pushed down to her crotch, cupping her through the horribly restricting fabric of her trousers. She could feel how wet she was for her already and her cheeks burned along with the rest of her body under Caitlyn’s appraising gaze. She bucked her hips against her hand, an undeniable request for more but even in this, the general was calculated, squeezing her throat in a manner of warning, a show of power, even as she popped the button of her trousers.

It was maddening. Vi longed to have more, more of Caitlyn that was. Defiantly, she brought her hands up to her shoulders, reaching for her uniform, to rid her off the ridiculous cape, to feel some of her softness but it wasn't to be. Evading her grasp, she rolled off of her and before Vi knew it, she flung her around onto her stomach, a hand at the back of her neck as she pressed her into the mattress.

“Don't,” she growled menacingly, her free hand yanking down Vi’s trousers.

‘Why,’ she wanted to ask, but she didn't get the chance, Caitlyn's hand pressed between her thighs, into the wetness that had gathered there. Vi gasped, nimble fingers tracing through her folds. She bit back a moan but couldn’t help the way she ground back against her. A faint brush against her clit was like lightning shooting to her nerve endings, heat gathering in the pit of her stomach as she grew more and more tense with anticipation.

“God, you're easy,” Caitlyn hummed, the hot air of her breath ghosting across Vi’s sculpted back.

“Fucking stop talking about it and-” Vi snarled, pent up and needy, but her words were cut of in a sharp gasp when Caitlyn thrust her fingers inside her. “AH!”

It hurt at first, pleasure and pain in equal measure and the general allowed her a moment to adjust. It had been a while, there was no denying that and Vi clawed her hands into the sheets for something to hold on to when Caitlyn started moving. She spread her fingers, testing her limits and Vi muffled a throaty moan in the pillows.

“I did want you to be mine,” Caitlyn whispered a heated confession and picked up the pace, seemingly quite intent on making her just that.

“Fuck-” Vi's body screamed from the intensity of her assault, long fingers curling into her, hitting deep inside, following a furious rhythm. She knew how to work those fingers, filling her up and stretching her out, rubbing against her clit with every thrust in a delicious flurry of sensations. And yet, there was something missing. Even though Vi was engulfed by Caitlyn’s scent from her bedsheets, and she was fulfilling the part of her that had become almost primal with lust, her heart sank, further and further, as much as she tried to lock it away from the experience. She could be doing this with anyone. It was no different to a quick, intense fuck in the prison showers when she hadn't know any better and had wanted to feel something.

Caitlyn released her neck, her gloved hand rough against the skin of her back and she reached around her to lift up her hips, find a better angle, and Vi moaned when she hit a deliciously sensitive spot inside her.

“Cait-” she gasped, as her other hand found its why between her legs too, the rough fabric delicious against her clit. She hated how good it felt, and she hated Caitlyn in that moment too. She was giving her everything, yet nothing. If only she could see her face, at least know that it was having some sort of effect on her too that they were doing this, more than laboured breathing, low grunts and the force with which she was thrusting into her.

“Cait please-” She wasn’t sure what she was asking for exactly, and her plea made Caitlyn falter.

“Please what?”

Did she want to hear her beg? All Vi wanted was to know that it hadn’t all been for nothing. Everything they had been through. The heartbreak. Even if they wouldn’t fix things, she wanted to know that Caitlyn felt it too.

“Please, my back is killing me, can I-” She cast a glance over her shoulder, finding the general’s eyes and drawing some small satisfaction from finding her pupils blown with lust, seeing her face flushed and her hair hanging loose and messy around her.

“Fine.” Caitlyn’s response was curt and she pulled out of her, a low grunt escaping Vi at the sudden emptiness. She turned onto her back, her body beginning to feel heavy from exertion and suddenly, they were face to face, with Caitlyn hovering above her with a sudden, and surprising, air of uncertainty about her.

Had she thought better of it? Did she want to stop? Vi wouldn’t be able to take it if she did now, she was too tightly wound.

“Come on, Kiramman… Fuck me like the Zaunite whore you think I am so we can both get on with our night.” Her words were crude but elicited a response. Caitlyn’s expression darkened once more and she slammed her fingers back inside her, making Vi mewl with a new angle and intensity. She leaned over her lavishing attention to her breasts and Vi resolved to watch her, pay attention, commit what she could to memory.

Caitlyn scrunched her eyes shut, either lost to the experience or trying to escape it. Even in her increasingly delirious state, Vi couldn’t help but notice the subtle changes in her actions, and the way her rhythm suddenly seemed to falter.

Vi didn’t care, not really. It was hardly surprising she struggled to get her off when she didn’t know her body and took no time to learn about it either. At least she could enjoy the closeness a little while longer before the inevitable end. Perhaps she could claim a few more things before it was over.

Boldly, she reached out for her, grabbing her by the back of her head to pull her into a kiss. She succeeded too, for a wonderful moment, in a kiss that was passionate, but not as angry as it had been before and absently, Vi wondered if she’d released some of her rage in the course of this, but only until Caitlyn suddenly pulled away. Completely.

“This is not how I imagined this.” she choked out, and Vi was shocked to see tears pooled in her eyes. She didn’t allow her the chance to observe them, turning quickly as she fought to free herself of the cape that seemed to be restricting her movements and getting in the way. “Shit-” It was an unmistakable sob and Vi pushed herself upright slowly, unsure of what to say or do.

“No it’s not…” she agreed slowly, struggling to interpret her behaviour, particularly when Caitlyn offered no response. She remained facing away from her, perched on the side of the bed, fingers tensely clawed into the mattress.

There she remained and with every passing second, as Vi’s sweat cooled on her skin and silence reigned, the atmosphere grew more heavy and tense.

“Think we just- this was a bad idea-” Vi said at last when it became obvious that Caitlyn had no interest in continuing. A disappointing ending to everything that had happened between them but perhaps it was for the best. “No need to torture ourselves any longer…” Putting on a brave face, she braced herself for the final goodbye as she moved to the edge of the bed but suddenly, Caitlyn’s fingers wrapped around her arm, holding her back.

“Please don’t go…” Her voice was barely more than a whisper, heavy and shaky and Vi stalled, surprised.

“Okay…” Carefully, she turned back and at last, so did Caitlyn, her expression revealed as every bit the heartbroken mess that Vi had been going through. She didn’t meet her eyes, that was likely too much to ask, but her gaze fixed elsewhere: on the dark bruise that coloured the side of her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” Caitlyn breathed words that Vi had given up on ever hearing. “I shouldn’t have, I…” A sob tore itself from her chest and she squeezed her eyes shut, fighting for some measure of composure that seemed beyond her now. “Oh goodness…” Little by little, she appeared to be breaking apart and while it hurt to see her like this, Vi couldn’t pretend that she wasn’t a little glad too. Maybe they could have a conversation at last.

“Thank you for saying ‘sorry’…” she offered slowly. “Luckily I’m made of stronger stuff, you couldn’t do this to anyone else-” She tried for some measure of levity, crack a joke but it fell terribly flat as Caitlyn hung her head in shame, drawing in her legs to her chest and hugged them, looking far smaller than Vi had ever seen her.

”Cait… what happened?” she tried again and braved moving a little closer. At the very least, she wanted to understand, and she gestured to the ceremonial cape that lay in an abandoned heap on the floor.

Caitlyn just shook her head to herself, a sad smile drawing to her lips.

“They made me- Ambessa, she- We declared martial law and I’m- I was made general-” she answered, sounding terribly detached from it all. “I want to protect my city, I want to stand up for my family, I want to- I want to be worthy of all those things but it’s tearing me apart…” Her voice had a haunting clarity to it, an innate truth that confirmed everything Vi had seen over the past few weeks.

“I know…”

“I know it doesn’t excuse anything but-” Caitlyn’s shoulders slumped and she sobbed, rivers of tears seeking a way across the plains of her cheeks. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold on to this anger, this pain, this rage. It’s burning me up and everything that I ever wanted - for myself - I’m losing-” she whispered, defeated and Vi’s heart squeezed inside her chest, the small flame of hope that she had very nearly lost was given air to breathe and grow. She gathered her courage and reached out, brushing her thumb through the mess of tears on her cheek as she raised her chin to bring her to meet her eyes.

“And… what is it you want?” She asked almost timidly, and Caitlyn smiled sadly.

“You,” she breathed and while Vi knew she wouldn’t be able to forget what had happened any time soon, this could be the start of fixing things. She brought her other hand to her face too, hoping to catch some of her tears and slowly she covered her lips with her own in a tender, emotional kiss that felt so much more intimate than anything else they had done that night.

“Can we try this again?” Vi mumbled softly, smiling against her lips as she felt lighter already and wrapped her arms around Caitlyn who melted into her embrace as they continued kissing until both of them were out of breath and the general’s tears had somewhat dried. “How did you imagine it?” Perhaps it was a bold suggestion but it seemed to lighten the atmosphere significantly.

Caitlyn chuckled and it was a genuinely warm sound, far removed from the iciness she had been confronted with all night.

“Something like this…” Gently, Caitlyn pressed her hand against Vi’s chest and pushed her backwards, but without urgency and force. She engaged her in a tender kiss, tracing her fingers across her chest toying with her piercings and quickly finding the best way to make her whimper.

There was nothing rushed about it now as Caitlyn trailed open-mouthed kisses along her throat, her jaw, and Vi relaxed into the sheets, witnessing the change in her with complete awe.

“Cait-” It didn’t take very long and Vi felt herself growing hot once more, the heat of their previous encounter returning but it felt different now, and so much better, as Caitlyn mapped her body with her hands and lips, disposing of her other glove as she went. She paid particular attention to her stomach and the bruise that was her doing, pressing kiss after kiss upon it and mumbling heart-felt apologies.

Eventually, she moved down her body, settling between her legs and Vi, breathless and worked up, simply stared at her in awe, feeling overwhelmed, as Caitlyn’s eyes sought some sort of permission.

“Please-” Vi breathed and Caitlyn smiled, lowering her head to bury her face between her legs. “Oh fuck-” Vi gasped, overwhelmed by the intense sensation as she parted her folds with her tongue, seeking her clit.

“If you’d rather I didn’t, I can-” The general picked up on how tense she became, even as she wrapped her arms around her thighs.

“No, I just…” Vi couldn’t help the embarrassment in her tone as she tried to relax which seemed a big ask with Caitlyn’s breath on her most intimate parts. “I didn’t imagine it like that either…”

“If you want me to do something different, I-” Caitlyn pulled back a little but Vi quickly shook her head, dying to experience all she wanted to give her.

“No, no, I mean- my,” she cleared her throat, stalling for time to find the right words. “Experience is… limited. And- it was never like this before. This is-” All of it, the close attention she was paying every part of her, her gentle touches, no-one had ever touched her like that, made her feel like that. It was overwhelming and oddly terrifying, if just for the thought it might all get taken away again.

Caitlyn smiled and reached for her hand, guiding it into her hair where she might hold on to her as she dipped her head lower again, dragging her tongue through her wetness once more.

Vi gasped, but held on to her, quickly finding herself grinding against her mouth. Caitlyn hummed in encouragement, deftly finding her clit with the tip of her tongue and drawing tight circles and flicking every once and again until Vi was shaking.

“Cait-” she sobbed her name as the tension became too much, the sensation overwhelming. Her muscles seized up and released, waves of pleasure crashing over her and threatening to carry her away, but Caitlyn remained her lifeline, reaching for her hand and squeezing it until the last of the aftershocks had subsided.

They didn’t speak after that, not for a while, there was no need. Vi was struggling to catch her breath and Caitlyn gathered her in her arms and stroked her hair in tender, affectionate patterns that threatened to move her to tears.

“Why did you come back after I treated you like that…” Caitlyn’s timid question broke the silence eventually, once their breathing had returned to normal and capacity for thought too. “I was- I’m sorry…”

Vi turned so she could meet her eyes, bringing her hand to cup her jaw as she sought connection to her.

“Because I- Because I need to know whether the girl I fell for is still there underneath all the grief, and I’m sorry I caused it but- we all do things we don't mean when we're grieving. I know all about that… I remember when it was like to lose Vander and how much I regretted striking Powder… even now,” she said and Caitlyn nodded understandingly, fresh tears coming to her eyes as she ducked her head in shame.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I genuinely thought I would have made the shot. I promise. I wouldn't have…” She wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

“I know…” Vi acknowledged. “And I think I… part of me is still… she's still my sister. It's not that easy.” She knew Caitlyn deserved that admission too, if they wanted to have a chance at having a future together. It was something they would need to work through, whatever that looked like.

“I know…” Caitlyn nodded, resigned but not angry. “Thank you for stopping me. And thank you for coming back… I- I was wrong to think I’d be better off if-” she broke off, shaking her head to herself. “You’re… you’re like the light in the darkness… like the… the only good thing and I’m drowning in this sea of-” Her voice grew shaky once more but Vi was right there offering her reassurance.

“I know you are… and I want to help. If you’ll let me…” She wasn’t sure what she would be able to do. She couldn’t take away her grief and pain, no-one could, but she could try and help her cope with it somehow, even just by being there for her.

“Do you really still want to?” Caitlyn asked in a small voice, clearly not thinking herself in a position to make any sort of demands of her now, and Vi smiled.

“You’re my light in the darkness too. And I won’t let you drift away and drown, maybe we can just… hold on to each other…” she suggested, and Caitlyn nodded gratefully, meeting her in a soft kiss.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” she whispered as they parted. “I know it’s a bad time to say it, with everything that’s happened. I know it will take time to rebuild trust but-” She broke off when she realised the look of shock on Vi’s face and spotted the tears that started falling. She wasn’t able to help them.

“I’m sorry…” Vi choked, instantly embarrassed, dragging the back of her hand across her face, but Caitlyn grew very pale.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that-” she started, but Vi quickly shook her head.

“Don’t be, please, I just…” she sobbed, feeling as though some age-old trauma had finally been lifted off her shoulders. It was overwhelming and disorientating as she tried to make sense of it. “I don’t think- I can’t remember the last time someone told me they loved me,” she confessed. “Not since Powder-”

Caitlyn pulled her back into her arms and let her cry, simply soothing her for as long as she needed it.

“Mother would be furious,” she sighed after a little while once Vi had regained her composure. “I’ve apologised for that to her too…”

“I love you too,” Vi blurted out without thinking any further than that, eliciting a similar reaction of stunned surprise, so she rushed to explain. “This version of you. The girl that is scared of what her parents will make of her bringing home a girl from the Lanes. The girl that strives for justice and can see the good in someone like me. And as … undeniably hot it is to see you acting all powerful and taking what you want… this is what I want. Who I want.” She took her hand in hers and pressed a tender kiss to the back of it.

“And that’s who I want to be,” Caitlyn agreed softly. “I don’t know what the future will bring, how things will play out with Jinx but… whatever happens… I don’t want to lose myself. Not again. And I don’t want to lose you.”

“I’ll be here to remind you,” Vi promised and Caitlyn settled against her, dropping her head to rest on her shoulder.

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “For everything.” Vi smiled and pulled her close, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, ever so grateful that they had made it through the trenches and made it to somewhere they could both breathe. There was a lot to figure out still, things were far from alright, but they had done the hard bit, everything else would follow.

“Now,” she hummed thoughtfully, casting a curious look to the girl in her arms. “I think the perfect way to thank me would be to finally allow me to see what you’re hiding underneath that uniform.” In a smooth motion, she flung Caitlyn around who landed on the mattress with an undignified squeak and laughed while Vi crawled on top of her. “You may own all of Piltover, but I want you to be mine.”

“I’d like that…” Caitlyn grinned and pulled her into a passionate kiss. Perilous as the way ahead was, they would forge a path for themselves, together.

#arcane #arcane season 2 #fanfiction #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #vi arcane #caitvi #femslash

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iwakuraz · 23 days ago

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flipnote practice from today. yippee song: I've been nostalgic for other peoples childhoods all my life - patricia taxxon

#my doodles #flipnote #i wonder why i did this but didn't even do my favourite part of the song #whatever. i gave myself a time limit for this because i wanted to see if i could make a flipnote in a day #i got a bit lazy near the end ..#also sorry im not fixing the sound for this bc. bleeeeeh. i wanna sleep in like.. 20 minutes #and even though it takes like 5 minutes to fix the audio i just don't feel like it #i also do think the low quality audio of it all is a part of the flipnote charm #vin tag #oc tag

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kingkat12 · 3 months ago

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seven minutes in hell (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, public sex(??), voyeurism, emotional extortion (Roman is such an ass omg), groping, foul language, smoking, angst, mentions of sex

summary: after you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- how can someone so beautiful be so evil?

word count: 8,192 (yes I know lol)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

a/n: after having my inbox flooded w sweethearts asking for a part two, here you go!! I do advise new readers to read the first one before this, because idk how much sense this is going to make without it lol, but enjoy!!<33

Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.

I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.

Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store.

After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.

Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles.

The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting.

The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.

I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.

The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.

As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs.

I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."

Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine,"

Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor.

My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;

meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him.

Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"

"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"

Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"

I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"

"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."

Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"

Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"

"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"

"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"

If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"

"Only at night?"

I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"

Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"

"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"

He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.

Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled, and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."

His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"

With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"

The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"

Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."

What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere. "Uh... Could I ask why?"

"Nope,"

I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.

Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"

"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.

Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"

Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."

What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"

I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"

I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"

"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice."

I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"

That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"

"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"

Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw,"

My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?

This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest.

But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?

So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"

"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.

Why did I feel such strong a need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much?

Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt.

I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more.

I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality.

I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing any time soon.

With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.

And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there,"

That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"

"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"

I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"

"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."

It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.

As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.

Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine.

Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness.

There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all.

I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down.

It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.

we need to talk. meet me by my car after school

Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go.

Fuck.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.

It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"

I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"

Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"

A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"

I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better.

This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car.

I groaned; "Roman, come on--"

In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets.

"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"

Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks,"

He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air.

Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"

What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"

Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."

"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"

I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly.

Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"

For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.

Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.

Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"

I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"

"Why not?"

"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing,"

Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"

"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"

"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."

It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"

Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"

I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"

Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"

"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"

This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"

I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.

However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"

I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag.

"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"

No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"

I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"

As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"

"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn.

And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had.

"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"

I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"

"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?"

"Uh, I don't know?--"

"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"

"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"

Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"

I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"

"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Not buying it. You squirm like a virgin every time I look at you."

My breath caught in my throat-- "Pardon?"

It seemed that my reaction only amused him, but he still spared me by brushing over it. "My first time was with Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"

I tried to shake off the fact that Roman had been right in his deductions. The story of his first time was unexpected, and he had been quite young-- concerningly young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile.

"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.

I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends.

Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"

"Pardon?"

I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"

"Sex?"

"Sex,"

Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"

This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."

Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"

I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"

"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."

This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.

About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.

The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together.

In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold.

Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"

"Letha!"

His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial?

With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"

What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us.

"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."

Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar.

Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.

There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."

"You won't, though," Fucker.

Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"

My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie."

I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"

"Get what?"

"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."

It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch.

Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.

"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"

Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.

"You're terrified,"

"No,"

"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"

"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"

Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"

"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."

Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose.

When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"

"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered.

And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair?

"Roman?"

A hum.

"You can kiss me now if you want to,"

The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.

And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.

I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet.

I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.

The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others.

Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.

I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public.

It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath.

Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled?

Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"

"Okay...?"

Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip.

I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this?

Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"

Oh no-- This again? Great.

Just great.

(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9!<33 thank you for reading!!)

#roman godfrey #hemlock grove #roman godfrey x reader #x reader #bill skarsgård #fanfiction #oneshot #bill skarsgard #fanfic #smut #angst #toxic relationship #reader needs a good shaking fr #ugh roman why why why #finally getting to use my psychology skills to decrypt Roman hihi

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the-ancient-dragons · 4 months ago

Text

Welcome back to Overcomplicating the Pyrrhian Tribes! This week: the beloved RainWings!!

You know what's up. Joy Ang and Tui are so cool and I am just me.

Details and explanation below!

Otherwise, next week are the chilly IceWings! See you then!!!

More overcomplicated dragons.

I knew the RainWings would be really important, and I think they turned out the best of all the ones I've done. I think they're my favourite because they are basically the perfect mix of extra realism spice without altering Joy's design too much. The SkyWing design is awesome and I love it to bits, but it is one of the two that are the farthest from canon.

As for the RainWing.... I had. So. Much. FUN. I heavily used chameleons and snakes - they're basically the two main species on my research board - but there is a dash of cuttlefish and frilled lizard in there. Where, you ask? Well if you look closely, all over the RainWing are little tiny flecks of darker colour. I found a beautiful reference of a close-up on a cuttlefish eye. Its skin is dotted in thousands of little marks and I thought that would be perfect for the RainWing, who can camouflage just as well as them. I don't know if it's been discussed in canon but I bet they could animate their scales more than just colour shifting - cuttlefish are known for using their rapidly shifting patterns to hypnotize prey. RainWings could do it too, sort of like Ka from Disney's 2D animated Jungle Book.

Speaking of Ka - snakes. I love snakes. The head structure of the RainWing here is very smooth and rounded with muscles based on snakes like the python. I was even going to originally draw them in a venom striking pose and got as far as completing the lineart, but ultimately decided it wouldn't fit the calm portraits of the other tribes.

Will you see it in the future? Hell yeah! Pure, unhinged, magical death spit. Looking at it now I might try to alter it to be a full piece of Glory attacking Scarlet or Crocodile.

In the striking pose you can see the frills much better, but I still took my time on this serene pose (this is where the frilled lizard influence comes in). If you notice that I've drawn every scale (every single scale) then, yes, I am insane. If you didn't know that yet, you know it now. You have to draw guide lines and follow them meticulously while you wonder why you don't make a scale brush, and then cry because you know the randomness and imperfections that come from drawing a thousand circles is how it looks natural. The eye area is actually my favourite part, since drawing dragon eyelids was the original inspiration for doing this. Did I mention that? I wanted to draw eyelids.

EYELIDS.

I digress. Besides the eyelids, I like the frills on the action pose, but this pose is where I like the body scales more. When zooming in on my chameleon colour refs, I noticed the very rhythmical distribution of their scales and figured I would give it a try. They actually do have extra large circular scales along their bodies, which is where I guess the canon RainWing design gets it from. Very clever, Joy!

Anyway, on this version, those small circular scales appear on the face. Not only that, but I added a bit of influence from the snouts of my ref chameleons by extending the nose bridges to wrap around the nose horn. They blend in so seamlessly and that's the reason why I love this design - it's subtle, barely there, mostly Joy but a little extra.

Wow, I talk too much. If you're here, thank you! It's not mandatory to read, but very appreciated. I heard once that visitors at an art gallery look at each piece an average of 2-3 seconds. Or was it 3-6? Idk, but it was shockingly short, and ever since then I've tried to encourage myself to pay more respect to other artists and glean their work for little details I skip after that quick glance. I could talk so much more about these designs but that would be like an hour long video, each, lol. If you have questions about anything, ask away!

#wof #wings of fire #wof art #my art #digital art #art #rainwing #wof rainwing #wof fanart #Overcomplicating the WOF Tribes

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copperbadge · 2 years ago

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Hey Sam! Since it's currently AO3 donation time, I'm wondering what your thoughts are on it? I'm asking because you've written RPF and it's one of many "anti-AO3/anti-AO3 donations" people's favourite things to bring up when they're complaining about AO3 getting so many donations that it continuously obtains an excess of its donation goal whenever donation time rolls around? (Wow, how many times can I say "donation" in an ask?) Sorry if this question bothers you! I don't mean to offend or annoy.

Hey anon! Sorry it took a while to get to this, I don't even know if the drive is still going on, but the question came in while I was traveling and I didn't really have the time for stuff that wasn't travel-related. In any case, let's dig in! (I am not offended, no worries.)

So really there are two issues here and as much as some people who are critical of AO3 want to conflate them, they are different. While some criticism of AO3 may be valid, rhetoric against AO3 tends to misinterpret both in separate ways.

First there's the issue of what AO3 hosts -- RPF, yes, but more broadly, varied content that some people find distasteful or think should be illegal, which is a misunderstanding of the purpose of the archive and more broadly a dangerous attitude towards the concept of freedom of expression.

Second, there's the issue of AO3 generally outpacing its fundraising goals while not allowing monetization, which is a misunderstanding of the legal status of AO3 and to an extent a misunderstanding of philanthropy as a whole.

The longer I watch debates about content go on, the more I come to the conclusion that I was fortunate to have a teacher who really wanted to instill in us an understanding of free speech not as a policy but as an ongoing dialogue. It's not only that freedom of expression "protects you from the government, not the Justin" as the meme goes, but also that freedom of expression is not a static thing. It's an ongoing process of identifying what we find harmful in society and what we want to do about it.

Should the freedom to shout "Fire!" in a crowded theater be restricted? Should the freedom to yell slurs at drag performers? Should the freedom to teach prepubescent kids about gender, sexuality, and/or safe sex? Should the freedom to wear a leather puppy hood at Pride? Who gets to say, and why?

I was nine when my teacher did a unit on freedom of speech and the intersection of "harm prevention" and "censorship", which is (and should be) a discussion, not a set of ironclad rules. This ambiguity has thus been with me for over thirty years, and I'm comfortable with the ambiguity, with the process; I'm not sure a lot of people critical of AO3's content truly are. Perhaps some can't be, especially those affected by hate speech, but RPF is not hate speech. It's just fiction. Or is fiction "just fiction"? This is a question society as a whole is grappling with, although fandom seems to be a little out ahead of society in terms of how explicitly we discuss it.

The idea that prose can incite violence or cause harm is both valid to examine (witness the rise of fascism on the radio in the 20s, on Facebook and Twitter in the past ten years; they're very similar processes) and a very slippery slope. Because again: who decides what harm is, and what causes it, and what we do about it? Our values align us with certain beliefs, but those are only our values, not universal truths. So AO3 is part of the ongoing question of harm and benefit both to society and individuals.

AO3 itself, however, has a fairly defined policy that it is not meant to police content; it is an archive, not a bookstore or a school board. AO3 refines its TOS and policies as necessary, but the goal is always open access and as much freedom of expression as possible, and if that's uncomfortable for some people then that's a discussion we have to have; ignoring it won't make it go away. But it has to be a discussion, it can't be a unilateral change to the archive's TOS or a series of snaps and clapbacks, and I don't see a lot of people ready to move beyond flinging insults. Perhaps because they were taught a much more binary view of freedom of expression than I was.

So, self-evidently, I support AO3 and I don't have a problem with RPF. Whether other people do is something we're going to have to get to grips with, and that's likely to be a process that is still going on when most of us are dust. I'd rather have a century of ambiguity than a wrong answer tomorrow, anyway.

But whether AO3 hosts RPF is truly a separate issue from its donation drives, because it's a criticism some people level at the site which exists whether it's fundraising or not. So people can criticize AO3's open policy and they can give it as a reason not to support the site, but it's just one aspect of the archive and the fundraising as a whole should be examined separately.

I think AO3's fundraisers are deeply misunderstood (sometimes on purpose) because even people who are anticapitalist get a little crazy when money gets involved, and this is, to fandom, a lot of money -- a few hundred thousand, reliably, every fundraiser. To me, a fundraiser that pulls in three hundred grand is almost quaint; my current nonprofit pulls in better than ten million a year and my previous employer had an endowment of several billion dollars. At my old job I didn't even bother researching people who couldn't give us a hundred grand.

On the other hand, AO3 is an extreme and astounding outlier in the nonprofit world, because basically it's the only one of its kind to work the way it does. It is entirely volunteer-run on the operational side (ie: tag wranglers, coders, lawyers, etc) and has no fundraising staff (gift officers, researchers, outreach officers) as far as I'm aware. To pull in three hundred grand from individual one-time donations, without any paid staff and without even a volunteer fundraising officer? That's insane. That doesn't happen. Except at AO3.

What people misunderstand, however, is the basic status of a nonprofit, which is a legal status, not simply a social one. (I'm adding in some corrections here since it gets complicated and the terminology can be important!) The Organization for Transformative Works, the parent of AO3, is a nonprofit, which indicates how it was incorporated as an organization; additionally it is registered federally as tax-exempt, which carries certain perks, like not paying sales tax, and certain duties, like making their financials transparent to a certain extent. (Religious nonprofits are exempt from the transparency requirement.) If you're interested in more about nonprofits and tax-exempt status a reader dropped a great article here.

Nonprofits, unlike for-profit companies, cannot pay a share of their income to stakeholders. Nonprofits don't have financial stakeholders, only donors. They can have employees and pay them a salary -- that's me, for example -- but if a nonprofit pulls in $10M in donations, my salary is paid from that, I don't get a percentage and nobody else does either. That's what it means to be a nonprofit -- the money above operational costs goes back into the organization. The donations we (and AO3) receive must be plowed under and used for outreach, server maintenance, further fundraising, services expansion, et cetera. You can see this in the 990 forms on Guidestar or ProPublica, or in their more accessible breakdowns on Charity Navigator. Nonprofits that do not put the majority of their income towards service provision tend to get audited and lose their nonprofit status. So nobody's getting paid from all that money, and the overage that isn't spent goes into what is basically a savings account in the name of the nonprofit. (I'm vastly simplifying but that's the gist.) Using that money for personal purposes is illegal. It's called "private inurement" and there's a good article here about it. The money belongs to the OTW as a concept, not to anyone in or of the OTW.

So the biggest misunderstanding that I see in people who are mad at AO3 fundraisers is that "they" are getting all this money (who "they" are is never clearly stated but I'm pretty sure people think @astolat has a special wifi router that runs on burning hundred dollar bills) while "we" can't monetize our fanfic. But "they" get nothing -- nobody even earns a salary from AO3 -- and you can easily prove that by looking at the 990 forms they file with the government, which are required to be made public. You can see the most recently available 990, from 2020, here at Guidestar. Page seven will show you the "highest compensated" employees, all of whom are earning zero dollars or nonmonetary perks (that's the three columns on the right).

Either AO3 is entirely volunteer-run or someone's Doing A Real Fraud. The money the OTW spends is documented (that's page 10 and 11 primarily) and while they may pay for, say, the travel and lodging expenses of a lawyer going to DC to defend a freedom-of-expression case, they don't pay the lawyer for their time, or give them a cut of the income.

Despite what you've read, the reason "we" can't monetize our fanfics on AO3 has nothing to do with the site being the product of volunteer handiwork or AO3 having it in their terms of service or it being considered gauche by some to do so; it's because

IT'S ILLEGAL.

I cannot say this loudly enough: It is against the law for a nonprofit to be used by its staff, volunteers, or beneficiaries to earn direct profit from the services provided by the nonprofit.

You can be paid to work at one, but you cannot side-hustle by selling your handmade friendship bracelets for personal gain on the nonprofit's website. If the nonprofit knowingly allows monetization of its services, it can lose nonprofit status, be fined, be hit with back taxes, and a lot of other unpleasant bullshit can go down, including prosecution of those involved for fraud. If you put a ko-fi link on your fanfic, you are breaking the law, and if AO3 allows it, they are too.

Okay, that was a sidebar, but in some ways not, because it gets to the heart of the real complaints about AO3 fundraising, which is that people in fandom are sick or unhoused or in some form of need and other people in fandom are giving to AO3, a fan site that is financially stable, instead of giving to peoples' gofundmes or dropping money in their Ko-Fi or Paypal. And while it is a legitimate grievance that there are people who are in such desperate need while we live in an era of unprecedented abundance, that's not AO3's fault. AO3 doesn't solicit actively, there's no unasked-for mailings or calls from a gift officer. They just put a banner up on their website, and people give. (Again, this is incredibly outlier behavior in the nonprofit world, I'd do a case study on it but the conclusion would just be "shit's real, yo.") You might as well be mad that people give to their local food bank instead of someone's ko-fi.

You cannot lay at AO3's feet the fact that people want to give to AO3 instead of to your fundraiser. That's a choice individuals have made, and while you can engage with them in terms of why they made the philanthropic choices they did, to blame an organization they supported rather than the person who made the choice to give is not only incorrect but futile, and unlikely to win anyone over to supporting you. We know from research that guilt is not a tremendous motivator of philanthropy.

It is also not necessarily a binary choice; just because AO3 gets a hundred grand in $5 donations doesn't mean most of the people giving don't also give $5 elsewhere. I support the OTW on occasion, and I also fundraise for UNICEF and the Chicago Parks Foundation and BAGLY and others, in addition to giving monthly to several nonprofits that I have longterm relationships with -- my alma mater, the animal rescue where I got the Cryptids, my shul. And I give, occasionally and anonymously, to fundraisers that pass through Radio Free Monday, which are mainly individuals in need, because I was once in need and now I pay it forward. These are the choices I have made. Nobody twisted my arm. I respond poorly to someone making the attempt to do so by attacking places I've given.

I think the upshot is, after all of this that I've written, that we cannot begin to come to grips with questions of institutional inequality in philanthropy, or freedom of expression and censorship, until people actually understand what's going on, and too few do. So all I can do is try and explain, and hopefully create a forum for people to learn and grow when it comes to charitable giving.

Archive Of Our Own and the Organization for Transformative Works are products of our community and as that community changes, we will necessarily continue to re-evaluate what aspects of it mean and how AO3/OTW express the community sentiment. I hope that the ongoing discussion of support for AO3 also leads to people learning more about their philanthropic options. But criticizing AO3 for fundraising by attacking it for fulfilling one of its stated purposes is silly, and attempting to guilt people into giving in the ways one thinks they should give rather than how they do give is just going to make one extremely unlikable.

As members of this community, we have to be a part of the push and pull, but it's difficult to do that competently in ignorance. So, I do my best to be knowledgeable and to educate my readers, and I hope others will do the same.

#ao3 #otw #nonprofit #fundraisers #ao3 nonprofit #that's my new tag for posts like this #if anyone has any of the earlier posts I've done drop a comment in them so I see the post and can tag it #archive

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maxverstappendefender · 9 months ago

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Hi I was wondering if u can make an imagine with max verstappen where the reader is an athlete also (tennis player please 😮‍💨😮‍💨😭😭🥹🥹) and she is also from Netherlands

her and max were like in the same school or neighbors or even Victoria’s friend and her and max used to be dating since they were young teenagers but they broke up because of their careers (more like she broke up with him lol🤭) and they meet again at a gala or a wedding when they are at the top of their game her being world no.1 and many grand slams winner and him being world champion and then they have a confrontation with a lot of angst and yelling and max being heartbroken 💔💔🤌🏻🤌🏻

other part to this request: "Also about the max and athlete reader like if u can make it inspired by “call out my name” by The Weeknd 🥲"

a/n: this is such a good idea, i love some good angst. i made it a smau and also written parts (more towards the hend). i don't know much about tennis but i tried. the google translate dutch is probably bad but that's fine. hopefully i did your idea justice <3

warnings: profanity (?), alcohol

my masterlist !

The Dutch Athletes

yourusername posted on instagram!

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 933,481 others

yourusername and that's a wrap on the lovely game of tennis, back to training for next season :)

view all 91,029 comments

user PROUD TO BE DUTCH BC OF THIS LADY AND THIS LADY ONLY

liked by yourusername

landonorris you're serving! (do you get it? im so funny)

-> yourusername ty lan (the tennis jokes are never funny)

-> landonorris not even a pity laugh.

user i see a certain someone hiding in the likes

-> user 🤺🤺🤺 be gone sir

victoriaverstappen cannot wait to see you next week!

-> yourusername i miss my favourite dutch person

-> user max is punching the wall rn

user wait, im new. why is everyone hating on max verstappen here?

-> user y/n dated him a while back but they ended it in 2021 for reasons no one knows. lots of speculation but they never confirmed or denied anything. he still has loads of pictures of them on his insta but she deleted hers, probs wasn't a mutual breakup in that case. she's still good friends with lando, charles, and max's sister!

-> user he probably cheated or something

-> user they both seem happy so we shouldn't make assumptions :)

liked by yourusername

liked by f1fan1, vstppn, y/nflowers, and 14,912 others

y/nmaxupdates still no new content of our favs together so we are doing a little throwback thursday to one of y/n's posts from 2015 (she has removed the post).

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yourusername posted a story!

yourusername posted on instagram!

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc, and 791,492 others

yourusername vegas baby! vv thankful lando is okay. congrats on the podium charlie!

view all 83,001 comments

charles_leclerc You say congrats but you wear a McLaren hat

-> yourusername only because lando invited me, not you!

user max being cropped out has me CACKLING

user we were so so close to some y/nmax snippet by her posting him but she fucking cropped him out

landonorris i'm so mad i crashed, my helmet was so sick for this race. do you think i can wear it to the clubs tonight?

-> yourusername lando istg if you wear your damn helmet anywhere tonight. you are supposed to be staying at the hotel with me anyways?

-> landonorris i don't see a doctor that will stop me from leaving. but my helmet looked sick right?

-> yourusername eh

landonorris we literally spent like 3 days together before the race and you still chose that ugly picture

danielricciardo VEGAS BABYYY. tonight we party.

liked by yourusername

yourusername posted on instagram!

liked by landonorris, maxverstapen1, and 701,831 others

yourusername 'VEGAS BABYYY. tonight we party.' ~daniel ricciardo (and don't worry, i didn't let lando leave the hotel looking like that)

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it had been a wonderful night so far. lando couldn't drink due to the drugs the doctors gave him so you didn't drink either out of solidarity. lando had gone off to do lando things, probably finding a way to the dj booth or socializing with whoever he can. you were just sat at this couch in the vip area. you were talking to charles for a while before he went off to do celebratory shots. you were so tired from the timezone difference, vegas compared to the netherlands was messing with your system. you had your head leaned back against the couch, your eyes were just looking at some of the drivers having a lot of fun and celebrating in one of the best party cities in the world.

you felt someone sit down next to you on the couch. you didn't know who it was at first but you quickly smelt the cologne and knew. max. you two hadn't really spoken since 2021, when you ended it. it wasn't the prettiest of breakups but we were both stupid kids and in love back then. you both should've known it wouldn't work out. you tried, though. you tried with every single thing you had in you but at the end of the day, fate would always be stronger.

"hey, y/n. haven't seen you in awhile," max finally said, breaking the silence. he sort of had seen you though, on instagram. had he missed you? every fucking day. you broke up with him though, and you seemed happier. if you were happy, he would accept that.

"sure," was all you said. that was your telltale sign that you did not want to talk. but let's be honest, max verstappen not having a conversation when he wants to sounded impossible. he wanted to fix things, he wanted to fix it all. why wouldn't you let him? "any chance we can talk?" he asked you. he wouldn't really take no for an answer. he would just talk to you while you listened, but even that would be stretching it.

you stood up from the couch, careful to not look at him. if you looked at him, you would be a goner and would do just about anything he asked you to. you were a strong person except when it came to max. "see you around," you muttered to him before leaving the vip area. you would infact not be seeing him around, not if you can avoid it. maybe not drinking was a bad idea. you had spotted lando who was busy chatting away to someone. "fuck," you whispered under your breath, realizing that the person who you had to make sure got home safely was still having a good night. you wouldn't want to cut his night short, especially when his night started bad with the race.

you felt some hands wrap around your waist and before you could protest, these hands were pushing you out this door to the club's back alley. you knew those hands though. you knew them all too well. "max, what the hell?!" you shouted at him as you felt the cool night air hit your face. it felt better than how being inside that club felt.

he knew this was probably too far. but when has 'too far' ever stopped him. he was so done with this all. 2 years of not having more than 10 words shared between you two. you two used to talk every single day, where did it all go wrong? he knew this one was his fault. he was the one who had lost you, all for racing. he gave up you for racing. he was a royal idiot for that. "i am so done with you not even talking to me!" he shouted to you. he was thanking god that you two were in an alley and not somewhere public for this.

"i don't want to talk to you," you said to him. not many people held their ground against max, but you always did. you never wanted to talk to him again, not since your breakup. you were happy and had a great life, you didn't need the mess that was max verstappen. "you never do!" he said back. that was true and you both knew it.

"you're right! i never do! because you fucked up," you shouted to him, putting your finger straight to his chest. the breakup was infact not mutual like the media made it seem. you two broke up because you were trying to support him in racing while still building a life in tennis for yourself. you could see the stress eating away at max that year and he still wouldn't let you help. even if it was help from afar. you tried to be there. he didn't even try to be there for you and your goals either.

"i know i did. believe me, i know i fucked it up," he said to you. there had been quite a few sleepless nights where his brain just wouldn't turn off. he had only been thinking about you. tonight was just his breaking point. he was done acting like he hadn't been thinking about you.

there was a moment of silence as we just looked at eachother. we had grown up a lot since we last got close like this. "so then why? just why?" you pleaded to him to just give him a real answer. 2021 had been a hard year for him and you knew that. but you were his girlfriend. you were meant to be there and help him but he wouldn't let you. he pushed you away at any chance he got. then you were alone. it was an endless cycle of you trying to help max with his stress, him pushing you away, and then you also getting lost to your own stress.

he put his hands on either side of your face. he knew he couldn't give you the answer he had given you when you asked this question 2 years ago. he couldn't say "just a tough year" because although that was a part of it, it wasn't the entire truth. and you deserved the truth. "i pushed you away before you could push me away," he said to you as he looked into your eyes. he felt like an idiot for saying that but it was the whole truth.

you gave him a slightly confused look. that had been a different answer than what you got 2 years ago. how could he even think you would push him away? you loved him so much and you had for years. you would have clung to him, even in death. "if i wouldn't have won in 2021, there was that thought that you would be gone," he admitted.

"i wouldn't have left. i wouldn't have ever done that," you quickly said. you had to say that really quickly before he spoke again. clearly your words took him aback a little. he really felt stupid for ever thinking that you would leave, let alone leave simply because he won a championship. mentally, you said 'fuck it', and just kissed him. you pulled away for a second to whisper, "je bent een idioot, max verstappen (you are an idiot, max verstappen)". then you kissed him again.

he smiled in the kiss, his hands in your hair and yours in his. your words were true, he was an idiot. he would probably have to kiss you a million times to make up for him pushing you away. and that was a price he was willing to pay. he felt you pull away and as desperately as he wanted to pull you back into him, he knew you had some more words to say.

you pulled away. "but you left. you left when it got hard and i will never put myself in that position ever again," you said to him. your lips stung with how much desire you had for max. but you had to make smart decisions, you could not get hurt again. and deep down, you knew he would leave if it got hard again. him leaving again would hurt too much. you had a good life now, he had a good life now.

he felt his heart shatter at your words. but he knew you were right that he had left when it got hard. he had taken the coward's way out. he wanted you to be happy and you seemed so happy with your life now. he couldn't take that from you. he nodded his pain away and spoke softly to you, "i hope you have nothing but happiness in life". then he walked away. he walked away but this time for your sake. he knew you wouldn't walk away from him so he walked away from you. he really did hope you had nothing but happiness in life. he could hear all about your happiness from the bits that victoria shared with him.

liked by y/nlover, heartsfory/n, mvfan, and 19,254 others

y/nmaxupdates NEW CONTENT!! I REPEAT NEW CONTENT OF MAX AND Y/N!! that kiss?? oh we are SO back.

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#f1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen smau #formula 1 #f1 blurb #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 smau #f1 smau

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itstheghostofmypast · 9 months ago

Text

15.07

Choi San x (f)Reader

Summary: At this point, he didn't know who she loved more, him or Byeol, either way, he was happy. What else could Choi San ask for other than his two favourite girls in the world getting along?

Genre: PURE FLUFF

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 2.1K

Est. Read Time: 10 min

Networks: @cromernet @k-labels

A/N: No- see @edenesth 💗 did this to me. This timestamp is for my saviour, the one and only @edenesth 💗 , like we should totally blame San for posting such domestic core pics- no wonder we get all delulu- PS THIS COLLAB HAS ME DYING

@edenesth version: [12.58]PM

"San?" she called out, walking down the hallway as she paused in front of the wall-length mirror, fixing her hair once more and checking out her outfit, simple, crisp and a dash of purple. Very different from her usual office attire, very colourful too- after all the first time he had seen her she was in a plain suit, a white dress shirt and slacks, running around collecting printouts for the upcoming spring magazine. That also being the first time he had realised how much he loved the word 'simple'. Okay, fine, perhaps she was dressed on the softer side, but was it so bad to play cute for once? Especially, if she was doing so to please her man. Call it her way of simping.

Truth be told, she wasn't even sure if he was going to show up, after their extensive tour, when he had mentioned the upcoming off days he was to get, she had suggested going to his home town to relax, leaving the city life for a while and although it pained her to know that she would be too busy with her own work at the office, also known as the company he too worked in, she wanted him to rest and relax away from the hustle bustle of his idol life, what she did not expect that after a week of his departure to Namhae, the very next weekend her fluff of a man would be ringing her doorbell in the late hours of the weekend.

"Byeol wanted to see you and so did I, I spent a week there and I'll spend a week here."

Was all he the dimpled man had made his way inside to the living room, opening the carrier to let Byeol out, the living room already a place of her liking. She had been here with San a couple of times; she had also been a very important part of their relationship. Especially on their third date where he had delicately brought up the topic, "Are you allergic to cats?"

"No, why?"

"Do you like cats?"

"Yeah, why?"

He never really answered her question that night, only smiled at her, leaning over the table to add more meat to her plate considering the late hours of the night, her hunger had distracted her from asking more questions, already too emotional at the thought of this angel of a man sacrificing his portion of protein for her - especially after grilling it so well. The only thing that did change was that the next morning she received around 400+ pictures of San's first love, Byeol.

The first time he had brought Byeol over, he was cautious and attentive, making sure both his girls were happy. He asked her cute questions all day- maybe she just found them cute because it was him, or perhaps it was because he was letting her in, into his domain, which is the little kitty roaming around the house.

"Can I put the litter here?"

"All your windows are locked right?"

"Do you mind if I keep the food bowl next to where we eat? She feels lonely otherwise."

"Can she sleep on your bed? I brought her cat mat just in case."

"Can we leave the bedroom door open a bit, so she can come and go without waking us up?"

He stopped when he realised, she wasn't even responding, panicking he looked up from the cat supplies. Maybe she felt like he was intruding or invading her privacy but was too afraid to tell him. Maybe bringing in Byeol was a big step he shouldn't have taken so quickly. What if she meant like she liked cats, at a normal level, like 'oh a cat.' Not like cuddling them or baby-talking to them. Turning around his eyes scanned the room to spot her holding onto Byeol, carrying her like a baby and cooing at her. It was only then he realised how loud his cat was purring loud enough for it to echo in the silent room.

"Hmmm? You say something, Sannie?" she looked up from Byeol to him, eyes as curious as a cat's, hand resting on the cat's tummy, letting Byeol grab her hand with her soft paws. His heart felt as if it were about to burst out of his ribcage, running to her and landing on her palm, beating in it with an intensity that would borderline scare her. Licking his chapped lips the feline-eyed man shook his head, a genuine dimpled smile forming, one that would send thousands flipping with joy- or in her case have her gushing over it in solitude.

Thus, giving birth to a ritual, often he would spend his free days at his own home, sometimes calling her over, and gratefully his family welcomed her with open arms. On other occasions, he’d drop by to her apartment, bringing their 'daughter' with him.

She remembers the time Byeol had gotten sick. Unfortunately, San was busy that evening, and his parents were out of town so Byeol was to stay with her. Not an issue, at least it wasn't until the third night when San checked his phone after hours of practice late at night. He had decided to stay at the dorm, travelling would be more tiring she understood, but as the man checked his phone his heart almost stopped.

"Byeol is sick, she's vomiting. "

"I'm taking her to the vet."

"She's shivering."

"Okay, my car isn't working!"

'"I ran here, dw, made it in time, they're checking her."

"They say she has a fever, some bug?"

"They want to keep her overnight, idk I mean I can't just leave her here. She looked scared."

"I'm not leaving, but she's sedated. They say she'll be fine."

"San plz reply soon."

"San I'm scared."

Choi San had never run faster in his life he was sure of it, because the moment he burst into the 24/7 pet clinic his lungs were burning worse than a forest fire, his eyes red and blurry, the world around him extremely out of focus as he stumbled to the reception, about to take the patient's name but someone called him instead.

"San!"

His head snapped in her direction, running to her, enveloping her in a tight embrace, trying to calm her down as she began to shiver in his embrace, her words coming out with choked sobs. Hand pressed against her head, he rubbed her back up and down with the other one, looking through the glass window at his cat, sprawled on the table with an IV tube attached.

"It's gonna be okay, it'll be okay."

It took almost an hour to calm her down, he had tried to convince her to go home, she had work the next day but she refused, instead blaming herself for Byeol's health. Though the doctor had assured him it was not because of her incompetency, but the cat food, the cat food Sanhad insisted on changing. Once she found that out, Choi San had to get an earful the remainder of the night, “How can you- I told you not to do that!”

“Babe I- “Don’t babe me! She doesn’t even like salmon! She prefers tuna.”

After the wonderful argument, that through the eyes of an elderly couple waiting for their dog looked like a cute domestic quarrel, came to an end. San remembered sitting next to her sulking as she gave him the silent treatment, though a few moments later her head had landed against his shoulder with a thump, followed by her snores. That night Choi San had realised two things, firstly that he was in love with her and secondly, she probably loved Byeol more than she loved him.

Hence, today they were supposed to go to a cute cafe she had been eying for a month. They had planned on taking Byeol out but since the cat had decided to stay up all night, running around the apartment she was tired today. San had just mocked her, claiming that Byeol knew it was Valentine's Day so she wanted her parents to spend the day together. However, he later countered himself with a, "Though each day is like Valentine's Day with you, love."

Clearing her throat, she dusted off the invisible dust, adjusting her cardigan before making her way to the living room once more, calling out to her significant other, "San! I'm ready to let's go." though his lack of response was confusing her, so she called out again, "Sannie where are you-" her word stopped as soon as she turned the corner, into her living room, spotting a giant starfish sprawled out on the wooden floor. Next to him was Byeol, staring down at him, San's hand pressed against his cat's back in a soothing manner, but she knew what he was doing, making sure his cat didn't move because Byeol was not only pretty but smart too, she knew what her dad was doing.

Sighing she walked closer to him, standing next to Byeol who looked up at her, blinking slowly, before turning back to stare at San. She stared down at him, arms crossed before slowly poking his side with her foot, watching him pretend and stretch, groaning as he cracked an eye open, "Oh~ you're finally done?"

"Mhmmm." Raising a questioning brow she nodded, "And?"

"Oh, I mean" Sitting up he stretched his legs, much similar to how Byeol would do so, "Byeol said her mommy was taking so long in the shower that we fell asleep, waiting for you…" his words trailed off when he turned to look at her, his breath hitching at the sight of the soft pastels, the pretty purple, purple really was her colour. Clearing his throat he quickly got up, standing to talk in front of her, merely a few inches away from her as he stretched his arms over his head before casually bringing them down, not so discreetly wrapping them around her and slamming her into him, smirking when she whined.

"The dress will wrinkle Sannie." she tried to push him away but he pulled her closer, leaning down to peck the tip of her nose, "You can't look like a pretty pixie and not expect me to hold onto you like Captain Hook kidnapped Tinkerbell."

"What an analogy." she mumbled, letting him squeeze her into his warm chest, feeling the vibrations as he chuckled, "You look very pretty…I like your cardigan."

"Thanks, your mom gave it to me last birthday. " Her arms wrapped around his waist, letting him gently sway them from side to side.

“Who do you think chose it?” he smiled down at her, finally meeting her with a gentle kiss, one she savoured greatly, hands fisting his shirt as his palm pressed against her back before slowly trailing down, though their little moment came to halt sudden when a high-pitched squeak caught their ears. Pulling back, she looked down at Byeol, frowning before turning to look at San, “Why isn’t she wearing her leash?” “What do you mean?”

Tutting at her gorgeous idiot of a man, she pulled away completely before crouching to grab the cat and walking towards the door where they hung coats and her leash. “I said we’re going to the café.”

“I know,” he mumbled scratching his head, a bit confused as to what she meant, “I got a booking for it, no? Why are you – we can’t take her there and it's almost time for our reservation.”

“Aww~ don’t listen to daddy, Byeol” San watched her talk to his cat instead of him, watching her put on Byeol’s harness and leash, somewhat impressed because Byeol never let him do that this easily, though the next statement had him blushing mad. “He’s a bit slow, handsome, but slow, he forgot we’re going to a cat café, you’ll have fun there~ Won’t you baby~”

Letting out a hearty chuckle he closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief, of course she’d come up with this idea on her own. She had mentioned earlier how leaving Byeol home wasn’t fun especially when the cat was their ‘child’ and leaving their child unattended was cruel. He watched the cat jump off the table and onto the floor, meowing up at his lover who sent Byeol a flying kiss, San didn’t know what heaven was, but if anyone were to ask him to describe what it looked like, the view was right in front of him.

“Any kisses for me?” He asked walking up to his two girls, who were almost out the door, pausing when she winked at him, “depends big boy. Might need to send our baby back home for a while if that’s what you want.” And that had the man shivering with excitement running after her as the two made it to the elevator, already planning on asking someone or one of the guys to watch his little baby for the night, so he could have a night with his kitten.

“Don’t worry, I think that can be arranged, kitten.”

Taglist: @edenesth @mlysalt @spooo00oky @cereal-simp @yessa-vie

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missmarveledsblog · 3 months ago

Text

A kind of sex education part 2 (platonic cas x winchesters x reader)

Summary : after the whole porn ordeal , castiel finds tumblr and the world of fanfiction has him asking more curious questions which the residents of the bunker are not so happy to answer .

warnings : mentions of smutty fics , cas being the curious baby in a trench coat we love .

After the whole angel porn ordeal , they were more careful with what cas was watching not wanting history to repeat itself . Like monitoring a toddler on an iPad. Especially given that y/n wouldn't come out of her room for days not wanting to look any of them bar sam in the eyes . Dean even limited his teasing when it came to the subject . Today he was luckily out while cas was on laptop , Sam and Y/N were looking over some incoming cases seeing which needed to be handled first .

" interesting this is very interesting " the angel spoke making them look over both slightly relieved not see or hear an explicit image on the laptop.

" I've been on a interesting site that led me to many other over the last couple of days " he spoke up .

" what was that buddy" she smiled over. Their joy short lived when he uttered the next few sentences out of his mouth .

" tumblr that led me to all these other sites , did you know there is fanfiction of us like the play we seen except it's classed as what they call smut " he looked up at the two .

" why didn't I go on the supply run , why am I here when he finds this shit " she cursed up at the ceiling .

" could be nothing " sam offered a weak smile .

" did you know most popular is Dean x y/n fiction seems as though you are most shipped although there are some of Dean and sam with you too " he mused .

" but I could be wrong" sam winced taking the laptop off of cas completely .

" how do you find these things " he asked looking through the tabs .

" I'm very pop culture savvy now " cas said proudly .

" what the hell man why are you reading all these " sam groaned wanting burning his eyes out seeing an explicitly wrong image of Dean and himself (no to wincest) . " you are actually popular with them Y/n " sam mused .

" that's after that stupid ghost hunting website and chuck " she grumbled wondering where she was going to start her new life.

" hey there's even some with you and cas " he chuckled.

" Alaska or maybe Australia would be better it further Away " she mused .

" wow these are extremely detailed " sam continued .

" would you call Dean daddy , the stories seem to think you would " cas asked .

" what the hell did I walk into " the man in question walked into the room .

" my resignation " she mumbled hiding her head in her arms.

" destiel is another popular one " sam chuckled.

" cas found smutty fanfictions " she looked up to see the clueless expression on Dean's face.

" they suggest that Y/n is a sub and you are a Dom " the angel stated.

" wanna see if they're right sweetheart " Dean winked .

" wanna kill me cause I can't be dealing with this" she countered wondering if she could also legally change her name.

" why are they so descriptive on the parts , have they seen them" cas sat looking between the three .

" the way Dean sleeps around they probably seen his " she reasoned.

" they also suggest you like..." .

" do not even finish that one" she growled .

"so many kinks cas did you google all these" sam asked eyes widening at the search history.

" i was looking at chucks book and comments said to check out the tumblr versions " he said looking confused to what he did wrong. " they forgot to add that birthmark just below your tits " he added matter of factly .

" when did you see her ... what he got to see i didn't" dean turned to Y/n , who honestly rather be stuck with Crowley for eternity than this .

" he walked in while i was getting dressed and it not a birthmark it's a scar from a battle with an old favourite bra "she could feel her cheeks redder than they've been so far . "i'm going to my room to pack for my new life in australia" she stormed out her room .

" she's kidding right?" dean asked looking to the mean .

" you should dom her and make her stay , they said she responds to good girl" cas explained .

" i wonder if she would let me come with her " sam mused walking out after her.

another awkward dinner bobby was almost afraid to ask. Although dean was smiling more than the others.

" cas read fanfiction , pornographic fan fiction " dean explained .

" i've also read some theories too, like bobby is Y/N Dad and not her uncle" cas smiled making bobby choke on his water.

" their theories cas they're not right ... right? " she laughed but stopped when she notice bobby expression or how he would barel look at her.

" i mean it's a possibility " he mused truthfully making her jaw drop

" great more daddy issue not like the place is drowning in them with these two " she pinched the bridge of her nose and point at sam and dean.

" so the theories of dean being her soulmate are true " cas asked.

" probably " dean shrugged winking at her .

" why did i ever come here, sam wanna move to australia with me " she ignored the other three men .

" look me and your mom had a brief thing , your dad well your dad agreed while he..." .

" australia sound nice " sam agreed cutting bobby short .

" hey stop denying our love even nerds on internet think we'd be hot together"dean spoke up .

" cas from now on stop the curiosity or so help me i will make you eat the computer " she groaned learning too much information for the day .

"we need to do dna test " she turned to bobby .

" you can pick me up at 7 " she turned to dean before walking out leaving the men speechless .

" i got punished" cas pouted .

" i got a kid kinda " bobby gulped .

" i got a date " dean smirked .

" and i got a rock ... It's a thing on tiktok ... what cass isn't the only pop culture savvy one around here " sam shrugged .

part three

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imaginaryf1shots · 4 months ago

Text

Drunken Confessions | Fernando Alonso

WC: 2.4K

Fernando x BFF! reader

Summery:(REQUESTED) “You know we need to talk." "About?" "Last night maybe?"

Warning: Drinking?

A part of my 1K celebration - not taking any more nando requests at the moment

Masterlist

Fernando Masterlist

It was another disastrous date(not really), you often wonder why your luck is so bad when it comes to dating. You have no idea why they end up bad for you, actually that's a lie, you know perfectly why they turn out the way they do. But admitting that out loud is a difficult thing to do.

The man was nice, you met at the restaurant, he was there first, pulled your chair out for you, you talked and chatted, he was good looking, on paper he's the perfect man, but he just… he didn't have what you wanted. He's not what -who- you fantasised about at night, when you're alone in bed, when he's across the world doing what he loves. The man you were on a date with could tell that you weren't into him, but he was gracious and told you that he had a fun time, that you should remain as friends before he left. You were supposed to take your uber home but you headed to the bar, as a way to forget the date, to forget him, you drank and drank, until the bartender had to cut you off. He helped you order an Uber and you were sent on your way.

Only when you arrived did you realise this wasn't your home, this is your long time best friend's home. You stumble out of the car and to his front door where you ring the doorbell. You ring it obnoxiously, not caring if he's sleeping or has company over.

It takes Fernando a minute and a half to get to the door which he swings open, and you stumble in, you were leaning on the door. With his quick reflexes, he stopped you from falling.

“Nando!” You exclaim with a grin, wrapping your arms around his neck as you put your weight on him.

“y/n? What are you doing here?” Fernando asks and pulls you inside the house before closing the door. From the droopy smile on your face he knows you've reached and went beyond your alcohol limit.

“I don't know, Uber brought me here.” You tell him and close your eyes, sighing in content, still in his arms.

“Come on, let's get you to sit down.” Fernando said and half carried you to the sofa, you lean back and hummed. “You're dressed up.” Fernando comments, taking in your dress and heels.

“I went on a date.” You say and giggle, before the smile drops. You whine, and groan, moving around on the sofa, and you slip from leaning on the back so you're laying on the sofa, your legs facing Fernando. Fernando had no idea you were going out, his heart clenched, thinking about how you dressed up, got your makeup done and put your favourite heels on to meet someone else, someone he didn't know, and had no idea about.

You started to wiggle and frown. “Why is it so hot?” You mutter and move your hand to the bottom of the dress, you fiddle with the hem, before you pull the skirt up, trying to get out of the dress, it suddenly feels itchy and you're too hot.

“Amor, stop, stop, what are you doing?” He asked and tries to stop you from undressing, your dress is backless, you had no bra on, and from the glimpse he allowed himself your panties were almost none existent.

“Why? It's too hot.” You whine and try to fight him and push his hands away but he's much stronger than you on normal days, and right now you're too drunk and tired to even make him move a cm.

“I’ll get you a shirt, just don't take off your dress.” Fernando says and you look at him through half lidded eyes, he's sitting next to you, on the edge of the sofa now. Your hands in his.

“Nando.” You say and your voice is so soft, Fernando hums, not taking his eyes off you. “Why can't I find someone?”

“What are you talking about?” Your tone sounded so vulnerable to him, he wanted to just gather you in his arms and hold you close.

“The guy I was with, he was nice, he was a gentleman, but…” You trail off as a tear slips from your eye, Nando wipes it with the pad of his thump.

“But what amor?” Fernando prods you.

“You make it so hard.” You sit up, and tears suddenly come out of nowhere and you start crying, Fernando is so confused, he doesn't understand anything. “I try and I try to forget you, and be with someone else, but then here you are, and no one is as good as you.”

Fernando is speechless, he had no idea that you had any type of feelings towards him that weren't platonic. Was it just drunk talk?

“You're drunk.” Fernando says and you pout, shaking your head, but that wasn't a good idea, as you felt like throwing up. “Shit.”

Fernando quickly gets the trash from the corner of the living room. He managed to get it under your mouth right as you started to throw up. The rancid taste left you gagging even after you emptied your stomach. Fernando held your hair back and out of your face. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear. You groan and lean back once you're done throwing up.

“Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” Fernando says softly and helps you stand up, he was hoping you would be able to walk but after you stumbled the first time he decided to just pick you up, he pushes your words to the back of his mind. With one hand under your knees and the other on your back, he moves to his ensuite. He sets you beside the sink, wetting a towel he cleans your mouth, before he gets your toothbrush that you have at his place.

You put it in your mouth but don't move it, Fernando sighs. “Such a big baby.” He helps you brush your teeth. You manage to open your eyes and keep yourself still as he brushed your teeth. After Fernando is done and you've rinsed your mouth, he carries you to his bed where he sits you down. Before he gets a shirt and slips it over your head, he slides his hands under the shirt, unzips your dress and pulls down on it, it seemed you have just enough energy and we'll in you to slip your hands through the straps of the dress, and he then pushes you lightly so you're laying back before he slides the dress over your butt and down your legs, he gets a pair of shorts and slides it up your legs, seeing the strings you call panties for a brief moment.

“I wuve you.” Fernando stops what he's doing, and looks at your face, your eyes are barely open, but you're looking at him. He knows what you've said even though you were slurring your words.

“You're really drunk.” You just hum and close your eyes falling asleep, Fernando sighs, he moves you so your head on the pillow, which smells like him making you subconsciously nuzzle into it. After you've settled down Fernando couldn't help but look at you, his heart clenched at the thought that maybe your words, your confession is just drunk talk, maybe you thought he was someone else.

You've known each other for years, and for just as long he's had feelings for you but when you first met you were in a relationship that ended a few months later, he thought he had a chance after that, but in that time your friendship grew, and he loved having you in his life. He was scared if he said anything he'd lose you, and having you as a friend is better than not having you at all.

That night Fernando had a hard Time falling asleep. You were in the next room asleep in his shirt with just your panties and his shorts under. He turned and turned but all he could think about is you, saying-slurring I love you, he closed his eyes and all he could see is your skin, he saw more of you today than ever before, and it was up and close, he felt the smoothness of your skin under his fingertips. He has no idea when, but eventually he managed to fall asleep.

When he woke up, he was a bit confused why he was in his guest room before everything rushed back. Fernando knew it’ll be a while before you got up, so he worked out at his home gym for an hour before he headed to the kitchen to start on breakfast. He just finished making a cup of coffee when he heard you moving in the hallway. You had a frown on your face, eyes half closed and his shirt slipped from your shoulder, barring more skin for him to see, and it seemed like you’ve lost his shorts sometime since last night. You silently walked up to him silently and took the cup of coffee from his hands and sipped from it, before you took a seat at the island, and placed your head on the cold marble, clearly having a headache and a bad hangover. You took the occasion sip from your his cup of coffee while Fernando worked on breakfast. Fernando was itching to talk about the night before, but he was able to just keep it to himself long enough until you were done eating and was more yourself. The meal was eaten in silence, and Fernando had an inkling that you may remember what happened last night, at least bits and pieces.

"You know we need to talk." He said to you and you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, keeping your eyes on your phone where you were checking that you hadn't drunkenly done anything.

"About?" You remembered a few things from last night, none that made you practically happy with yourself, you remember coming in, trying to take your clothes off, and just talking. Not everything you said came back to you, but the bits you remember are enough for you to cringe.

"Last night maybe?" Fernando said sarcastically, you sighed and put down your phone before you looked up at him with a pout that he just wanted to kiss away.

"I only remember bits and pieces." You say trying to get out of this surely embarrassing talk that's about to happen, there's nothing good that will come out of this.

"What exactly do you remember?" Fernando asked from the other side of the islands, his hands on the marble.

"I remember coming here, and I know that I was feeling hot, so I tried to-uh-to take my dress off." You mumbled the last bit but Fernando heard you loud and clear.

"What then?" He asked, trying to get you to talk.

"I remember complaining about my dating life." You shrug, omitting that you remember saying that no one is as good as him.

"Do you remember comparing your dates to me?" He wasn't beating around the bush, you groaned and put your head on the island.

"Maybe." You raise your head and meet his eyes, seeing the mischief in them and the smirk on his face had you groaning once more.

“Okay, then do you remember..." Fernando trails off as he rounds the island, and you turn on the bar stool to face him. "Do you remember saying I love you?"

Your heart skipped a beat, this is way worse than anything you could have imagined, you've kept your feelings for yourself successfully for so long, but one drunken night had unravelled it all. Left it out in the open for Fernando. Do you deny it, say it was just drunk talk? Just get out of it someway.

Your eyes were held by Fernando's, you bit your lip and his eyes flickered down, before they went back to yours.

"You don't remember that?" Fernando asked again, hoping for an answer in the positive.

"I-uh I don't." You whisper and look up at him, you're still sitting and he's closer now than just a few moments before.

"I was hoping you would, because then I'd say I love you too." Fernando said and he took in every little move you made, trying to judge your reaction. Were you happy with his words? Or are you repulsed? Your eyebrows moved closer and upwards, leaving a vulnerable look on your face.

"Would you?" You asked wanting to make sure he was serious and wasn't just making fun of you.

"I would" Fernando confirmed. "Too bad you don't remember." Fernando was playing with you and you both knew it, but it didn't make it easier for you.

"I don't remember, but I can say it again." You say with hopeful eyes, Fernando smiles.

"I love you." He said and your heart skipped a beat, your mouth fell slightly open. "I've loved you for so long."

"You do?" You asked in disbelief, even if he said he'd say it, it still didn't make you believe, you've had feeling for Fernando for so long, it felt like an unreachable dream, but here he is, saying I love you to you after a drunken night, where you apparently said it to him, and you don't remember.

"I do."

"I love you too." You say and a smile cracks on both your lips, "Nando?"

"Yeah?"

"Aren't you going to kiss me?" You ask and he breathed a laugh before his hands were cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss, that left you tingling, and goosebumps were appearing on your skin. The kiss was passionate, after so many years of pining after each other, you're finally reached the tipping point, and you've confessed your feelings for each other.

"Fuck, we should've done this earlier." Fernando says after pulling back, you pull him closer by his shirt, he slots right between your legs.

"We should have." You said and lean up to capture his lips in another searing kiss that left you breathless.

"We definitely should've." Nando mumbles.

"Why is it getting so hot?" You said with a smirk and Fernando raises an eyebrow, your hands move to the bottom of his shirt and he knows what you're about to do.

"God amor, we should get to the bedroom." Fernando says and steals another kiss before he's pulling you behind him for a cardio session, much different than the one he had in the gym this morning.

Main taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house .

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kenyummy · 4 months ago

Text

MISTER TUTOR — YUKIMIYA KENYU

[NSFW] SYNOPSIS : yukimiya kenyu is your tutor. by extension, he is also your favourite victim to tease. also by extension, you two always end up in the exact same way each and every tutoring session.

note : hi this is smut !!!! mostly pwp so heh. heh. theres a severe lack of kenyu fics on tumblr and everywhere honestly so i decided to be a good samaritan and do my part in adding to his slowly growing fic collection. i love love love kenyu hes my boyfriend forever and ever <333 also reposted from my wattpad which u should so check out btdubs

wc ;; 3.9k

Yukimiya isn't sure when, but eventually, tutoring you took up a huge portion of his life. First assigned for a homework task that you had not completed—his teacher made him tutor you on how to do it and exactly how to hand it in.

Then, his math teacher made him study with you, since you were falling so far behind. You and him spent hours studying together, but nothing ever worked. Either you got him too riled up to continue this session (which really, led into a session of something else), or you yourself were way too unfocused to even consider actually trying to learn from the boy in front of you.

Either way, you and he did not mesh well together, especially in a study-like area. In a library—you were far too loud. At home (either one of your houses)—he was practically asking you to feel him up, God forbid you two were left alone in the house, as well. Even at school, you kept finding yourself getting distracted by the multitude of people that pass by, and every little thing around you intrigued you more than your work ever did.

You never read your assigned novels, something which he couldn't understand. It was just reading, and yet, you acted like it was the hardest thing in the world to do? Whatever the reason was (perhaps you could simply not read), Yukimiya needed to find a strategy that worked for you.

As your (self-proclaimed) tutor, was it not his job to make it so you don't flunk every single test? He thought so.

So, he went through various strategies with you. Studying in timeslots—it didn't work, because when you took a break, you decided that you didn't feel like going back to doing boring old work. Cramming everything in at the last minute—this worked a little better, but was still a giant failure. Sure, it had you actually studying, but you forgot everything as soon as you walked into the test room since your mind had no time to actually process it all.

Whatever it was—it was like your entire being refused to study like it would kill you (from how badly your grades are dropping, he isn't sure that's the only thing that will). A vivid procrastinator, that's what you are. Still, Yukimiya Kenyu is nothing but determined. When he's set on something —you best believe he'll go out there and get it like a champ.

That's why he was sure that this study method—tailor made to fit you—would absolutely, undoubtedly work.

You were surprised when Yukimiya asked you if you wished to spend this week's weekend study session at his house. (He isn't dumb, in fact, he's the complete opposite—and he knows exactly where you two "studying" at a private place like home leads).

So why did Yukimiya ask this? Has he perhaps turned over to the dark side? The thought of that—and perhaps, at what's to come—makes your stomach twist in excitement.

The day came without so much of a hitch. You spent the last few days of the week lazing as usual—your mind couldn't leave the thought of this weekend's "study" sesh with your favourite boy alone.

You wondered this, even as you took a train and made your way to his house—you've been there so often that his address was practically branded into your brain—and you thought about all the things he'd make you do.

Your face flushes.

As soon as you ring the doorbell—you stand outside waiting for less than a minute—you catch sight of Yukimiya Kenyu himself. Clad in a flowy, white dress shirt, and baggy grey sweatpants—he looked deliciously domestic, and it made your heart race in your chest. Especially when he spares you that smile—that godawful, lady-killer smile that could knock somebody dead—you think you may faint on the spot.

"You're just on time. My parents are going out to see my grandma, so it'll just be me and you alone for a few hours. Should be more than enough time for substantial studying, no?"

Alone? Few hours? Come on, Yukki, you know me better than that.

Now, you were starting to grow suspicious at his deliberate choice of wording and his all-too-well grin. Yukimiya Kenyu... what are you planning? Are you actually planning on getting any work done? No, not really. But that doesn't mean you can't be suspicious of this pretty boy in front of you. A studious, straight-A nerd would surely not fall into his tempting desires without at least a little bit of prodding—which is exactly why you're so wary of this whole setup.

You're led to the familiar sight of his room, somewhere you've been countless times before, same as always. You make yourself comfortable on his bed and watch as he pulls in a second chair to sit at his desk. He sits down at the one he just brought in, and motions for you to take a seat beside him on the chair he had originally had on his room.

His smile is so guileless, you can hardly get a good read on what he's feeling. It almost makes you nervous. Still, you obey, and take a seat, watching silently as he pulls out a few binders and unclipped a piece of paper. A mock test.

Wow, already? He was making you go through a practice test based on the subjects you're learning in math at the moment. Well, this wasn't too surprising. Yukimiya usually went through these with you anyway, so he could get a feel for how much you know about the subject already.

He snuffles his chair closer, eyes gleaming behind lens, "We should spend today going over these questions. If that doesn't take much time, we can just spend the rest of the day chilling out."

Yeah, we all know what you mean by "chilling out".

You nod, back slumped into the chair behind you and you groan, "Ugh... that sounds boring at hell... Can't we do something more fun, Yukki?"

With a cheeky grin and a knowing glance at the bed behind you—you think you make your intentions abundantly clear. You're certain he knows what you mean—this is always how you get what you want, after all.

By now, he'd be pink-cheeked, or perhaps even sloppily making out with you already, but not this time. He keeps the same blank, air-headed expression that he's plastered on his face since this whole tutoring thing started. "No, not this time. I've thought of a way to help you remember the fornulas, actually. I'm sure this strategy will work."

You raise a brow, clearly suspicious of his judgement. He said that same thing the past three times, and you ended up failing said three tests. "Really?"

He nods, smiling, "Really. Let's just start, and I'll try to incorporate it as naturally as possible."

Strange choice of words—but you like to trust your Yukki, so you don't question it. You and him quickly flip to the first page, and it starts with a question on area for a shape you do not recognise—with all sorts of numerals and numbers that it already makes your head spin.

"Do you understand how to solve for x?" He asks, and you think it's easier to straight up say no, rather than lie and look stupid, so you shake your head. "Alright. I'll try to explain it the best I can."

He starts talking, but it's hard to focus when his big hand is taut on your bare thigh, rubbing up and down mindlessly on the skin. You didn't realise he'd come so close to you—he's practically pressed up against your side.

Whatever. You try not to think too much of it. You focus on the sound of his words and sort of figure out how to solve what they're asking, "So, to find x, first you have to use the measurements already given, and then times that?"

He nods, "Yes, but that's not the end. You then still have to find y and z."

You groan, running a hand through your hair and sighing loudly—showing off your exhaustion five minutes into the session, "Ugh... this is taking forever... is this shit seriously on the test?"

Yukki leans up and presses a peck to your forehead. It feels oddly romantic, it makes you blush, "I know it's long, but you'll get it. Just focus, alright? I promise you'll understand if you do."

You really hope his mystery study method actually works.

Yukki continues trying to explain the concepts and formulas on how to solve the shape on the paper—and you're trying, you really are, but his fingers inch up, further and further and it makes it really damn hard to concentrate.

(Curse him, and the stupid effect he has on you.)

His hand stops moving for a moment, and you finally feel like you can breathe again. His words finally stop sounding like a jumbled mess and more like actual teaching, "I get it! You just..."

You proceed to re-explain the concepts he brought up, and worked out the question on the paper with ease. Yukimiya grins, perfect pearly whites behind his teeth and he's clearly proud, "Good girl. You're actually listening to me this time. Let's move on to the next question."

An algebraic expression—so many letters, numbers and symbols and you don't know what half of them mean. Yukki takes one good look at your face and understands exactly what's going through your head—absolutely nothing.

He begins to explain the equation to you once more—his hand inches up even further. It has practically disappeared under your skirt.

Is he doing this on purpose? You can't help but wonder, heat crawling up your neck and your stomach feels tense with anticipation. Usually, you'd think he would be—but he's not even looking at you, completely and utterly focused on the question.

Maybe he doesn't even realise.

The thought makes your skin crawl, but you push down these feelings (and try to ignore the soft touch of his fingers on your inner thighs), attempting at solving the question.

He shakes his head, brown curls falling over his pretty eyes. "No, that's not how you do it. I'll show you."

He leans forward and takes the pen from your hand—fingers brushing over yours—and wastes on time in solving the question while explaining its properties and what steps you need to take. Yukki is a good teacher. He's smart, he's thorough, and he makes sure you understand everything before you two move on.

But you really, really, can't focus because his fingers are now right atop your clothed cunt, stroking softly—it's driving you mad—and languidly, like it didn't do anything to you.

You hiss through your teeth when his index finger brushes over your clit, "Yukki..."

He looks so genuinely confused you almost believe he does not realise what he's doing, "Hm? What? Do you not understand?"

You furrow your brows in an angry motion, "No, are you kidding? You... You're—" The words die in your mouth as soon as you catch sight of the glowing, very much teasing, smirk on his lips.

Fuck. He does know what he's doing. Fucking prick.

You swallow thickly when his fingertips press a little harder, "Is this seriously the strategy you were talking about?"

He still acts oblivious, despite the way he's unabashedly glowing with joy, "I have no idea what you're talking about. Let's just get back to the question. Do you understand it?"

You suck up your pride and take the pen from his grasp—solving the question easily. Yukimiya places his free hand on your head and pats it as a reward—his fingers stop moving so you have time to recuperate your thoughts—but this process soon repeats itself through the next three questions.

You can hardly think straight—but, a thought passes over your mind that maybe if you finish this up as soon as possible—he will finally stop teasing.

You find yourself working as quickly as possible—the sight is enough to please him. Perhaps this strategy really was working. Yukimiya thinks he's struck gold.

You look just like a regular diligent student—well, as diligent as a student can get with a hand shiver with their skirt. You're solving these questions with minimal difficulty and you're actually showing your working out. He hasn't felt this proud since he brought his pet turtle to show and tell in seventh grade (you teased him relentlessly for weeks after that, but he took like like a champ out of love for his pet).

... But still.

Perhaps a part of Yukimiya is rather selfish. A little voice that would never speak unless he found himself caught in a situation like this with you speaks up inside his brain—which makes his eyes glaze over with a sultry gleam and a small, almost harmless thought appear in his head.

What if...

With his sudden movement, you jolt in your chair and hands fly to his wrists, clutching it over the fabric of your skirt. "Y... Yukki—!!! W—What—"

His two middle fingers plunge deep into your cunt and immediately take up a relentless pace—your chest begins to heave as he consistently keeps pressing against that soft, squishy spot inside of you that makes your mind fog up.

There's no freaking way you can act like— The thought dies in your throat when the heel of his palm rubs against your clit and you bite back a small whine.

The small little clicking sound that is made each time he thrusts his fingers in and out is almost inaudible in your ears when he begins to speak, lips brushing against your ear, "Keep going, gorgeous. Don't let me stop you now. You're doing so good."

Your leg jitters against him when he smiles against your ear and he feels your cunt pulse.

Still, you pick up your shaky fingers and try to keep a steady grip of the pen—it's hard when all you want is to throw your head back on his shoulder and sit there all pretty for him—but you know better than to ignore Yukimiya Kenyu.

Despite his gleeful demeanor, he seems to take joy in asserting himself over you. You wondered if maybe he just had a sick kink.

Every time you came close to solving the question—he would press harder and harder, and every time you tried to lean back onto his shoulder, he would stop abruptly and ask you what you think you are doing.

You just could not win with Yukimiya Kenyu.

He's driving you crazy. Maybe this is how you make him feel on a daily basis—but you actually think you're going to go mental from this torture. Your handwriting had gotten noticeably messier and more shaky every time you tried to solve that question—even when you did, his pace was absolutely relentless. He did not let up.

"Yukki!" You whine out, cheeks all puffed like a cute little fish and you glare at him with so much anger he actually almost feels bad for a second. Almost.

He takes far too much enjoyment in something like this to feel any menial sense of guilt toward you. Besides, it's not like you didn't have this coming. Despite all this, he knows you will take whatever gives you graciously because you are absolutely enamored with him.

(He thinks that, with a small smile. It's okay for him to say that, right? It's not like it's not reciprocated.)

"Yes?" He responds, slowly, teasingly. He can feel your thigh start to shake as a sign of your impending orgasm, so he starts to slow his thrusts—the tantalizingly sluggish drag of his fingertips across your walls give you a little more than nothing.

You could scream in frustration. He grabs ahold of your thigh and tugs it over his left leg, so that you don't get a chance to close your thighs are his hand—it makes it all the more torturous.

Your words are breathy and heavy on your tongue, "Yukki... lemme... please let me—"

His thrusts speed up, and his thumb begins to rub hard circles on your clit. Your chest heaves with each breath and you start to moan sweetly into his ear. You throw your head back, onto his shoulder and grip onto your skirt—but this time he does not stop. In fact, he seems to go even faster.

You can practically envision the smug expression he must have on his face at this moment—his ego fed and arrogance through the roof. "What? You wanna cum?"

Mindlessly, and desperately, you nod. White-hot fire starts to churn in your lower belly and it spreads to the tips of your toes when he keeps rubbing harder. You're getting close, with your stomach twisting and heart beginning to beat in your ears.

"Y—Yeah... please..." Somehow, you manage right choke that out and whimper right into his ear.

Your thighs begin to shake. He does not stop. "You wanna feel good, gorgeous? Go ahead." He presses a soft, chaste kiss to your temple—an almost laughable contrast to how you're nearly brought to tears by your orgasm, lower half shaking and rutting up into his unrelenting touch with a sense of desperation.

He likes it when you're desperate. It makes you all the more cute.

He helps you ride out your pleasure, all with a pretty grin. Your babbling thanks and praises for his fingers soon die down when your post-orgasmic haze hits you, and you lean back into his touch with low breaths.

After a few minutes of him just holding you like this, hand placed lightly on your thigh—you look up at him, then down, then back up again. "You want me to help you out with that?"

He seems to be slightly taken aback by your bold offer—despite moments before, he sported a cocky smirk and sultry gaze—but manages to gather his composure quickly enough to answer.

He shakes his head and gazes at you kindly, "Oh, you don't have to. I still need to teach you some more formulas—"

Your brows furrow and your remove your leg from over his. "Yukki—don't be like that. Lemme take care of you, okay? Yeah..."

A smile falls upon your lips as his cheeks grow pink. Even when your duck down below his desk—it feels all so surreal. Even when you tug down his grey sweats that did not hide anything, it almost feels like a figment of his imagination.

It no longer does when he feels the fiery enclosure that is your lips wrap around the redden leaky tip of his cock. Yukimiya slaps a hand over his mouth and squeezes his eyes taut shut. His heart is beating a million miles an hour in his chest. He feels like he cannot breathe, but the air gets knocked out his lungs all the same when your move your mouth down.

You use your hand to spread his pre around the base of him—jerking off what your mouth did not fit, until you go a little lower. He thinks his face may be on fire. The hand that does not cover the lower half of his face grips the edge of his table with full force.

He dares not to look down at you and dares not to catch the nasty, foxish gleam in your eyes.

You go down more, then back up. You press a chaste, loving kiss to the bulging tip, then, you go back down again. This time, a little further. You keep doing this until your jaw relaxes enough for your nose to press against the smooth skin of his abdomen—you allow your hands to wander his hard stomach.

"[name]..." His voice trails off shakily, a small moan escaping his lips as his hips jerk forward. You choke a little, but keep going. His glasses are growing foggy from his hot, heavy breaths and he doesn't think he's ever felt any hotter.

The room temperature must have shot up by at least twenty degrees. He feels searing.

Yukimiya's heart nearly beats out of his chest when you pull back once more, staring directly into his half-lidded, cloudy amber irises, and gave a sloppy kiss to the cute little freckle that was on the pulsing head of his dick.

His breathing picks up and his chest heaves. Fuck.

He groans aloud as your mouth sinks back down and your throat presses around his cock. His hips jerk forward again, and he takes this reaction as his opportunity to start thrusting. You suddenly sit still with your jaw as open as it would allow you to be—as Yukimiya lazily thrusts into your mouth.

His hand entangled itself into your hair and he grabs a tight hold of your head as he moves you to his heart's content. The wet choking noises that you make when your lips are snugly wrapped around the base of his cock give him butterflies.

He looks down at you, sweat beading on the side of his face and low grunts escaping his lips, "Ffffuck.... So... mmmm..."

He can hardly firm actual words—his head lolls back and his eyes shut in pure bliss.

Searing hot electricity zaps through his veins—his abdomen contracts, and it's a telltale sign he's getting closer. You use your tongue as much as possible while his thrusts are getting wild and erratic —his groans soon turn into desperate puffs of air.

"[name]...! Gonna..." His hot and heavy pants ring in your ears and his low groans are such a noise you'd never expect to come out of such a perfect pretty boy's mouth. He pants hard. "[name]...!! [name]...!!"

It seems your name is the only word he can formulate at the moment, when his cock twitches in your mouth and spurts of white shoot out the tip right into your throat.

He grabs your hair hard and presses you as close to his abdomen as you can get—hips shaky as you squeal and your throat instinctively tightens—the whine he lets out is something that will forever be imprinted into your memory.

You nearly cough it all up when he finally pulls out of your lips—breathing growing steady and shoulders relaxed into a calm posture—but you force yourself to swallow, and you give him the cutest smile you can possibly muster when you do.

Yukimiya stares down at you with hazy honeyed eyes filled with unbridled lust—hidden only behind the fogged up lens of his rounded glasses. "[name]... You..."

He looks embarrassed when you stick out your tongue at him and it is perfectly clean. He places a big hand on your head—a stark difference compared to his previous way of gripping your hair—he strokes it softly under his touch. "Good girl..."

He chuckles.

Yukimiya Kenyu looks absolutely debauched—you don't think you've ever seena prettier sight. His shirt is disheveled and his cheeks are a searing hot red. He is absolutely gorgeous.

That why, when you crawl up from your kneeling position, and he cradles your aching red knees when you place yourself flat on his lap, you kiss him with all the love you can muster. You do not feel much love—but all of the adoration you do feel is directed solely at Yukimiya.

"So, how did I do, Mister Tutor?" A teasing, coy smile places itself on your lips when you pull away, hand sneakily running itself all over his hard torso.

The smile he beams at you is nothing less than radiant. "A+."

#bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock manga #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #bllk smut #yukimiya #yukimiya kenyu #yukimiya smut #yukimiya kenyu smut #yukimiya x reader #yukimiya kenyu x reader #kenyu yukimiya #kenyu yukimiya x reader #kenyu yukimiya smut #© iliverae 2024 !#iliverae after hours <3

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authorscurse · 5 months ago

Note

hi!! I've seen your work on pjo and was wondering if I could request a Percy jackson x reader? Where the reader is Will Solace's twin, but unlike Will, who Apollo Described to have inherited all of his best qualities, the Reader, however, inherited the "worst"?

[P.J. Masterlist] | [M. Masterlist]

Warning: usage of y/n, Apollo is a bad dad

Pairing: reader x Percy Jackson

W.C: 2k

Note: I'm planning on making my Percy Jackson tag list! Comment if you want to be part of it! Also if you want to be part of my overall taglist!

[Requests]

Synopsis: Apollo!Reader finds solace with friends after her father's hurtful favouritism.

I stare blankly at the breathtaking scenery of the beach. The sky is painted a vivid blue with fluffy white clouds adding ethereal decorations. The sun shone brightly, radiating warmth and light to all it touched. But no matter how much scorching heat and comforting radiance the sun exuded, I felt only the bone-chilling temperature from the bitter winter.

I exhaled and watched the puff of smoke become visible in the frosty winter air. The sun gave no aid to remove the biting cold I felt, inside and out. I'm freezing, I'm numb, and no amount of heat could dispel the paralyzing chill that gripped my heart.

"It's freezing out here," I was startled to hear Percy's voice. I turned and saw him in a cozy sweater, his hands tucked into his pockets, shielding them from the bitter cold. "Go back to your cabin, Jackson," I looked back at the mesmerizing scenery before him. I didn't hear a sound from him, and I thought he had returned to his cabin, but I was extremely wrong when I felt him sit down beside me.

"You should be in your cabin getting some warmth, sunshine." There it was, that affectionate nickname he had given me ever since we first met. I wasn't claimed when we both met for the initial time, but he called me sunshine, and even after I was claimed, the endearing moniker still followed me around. "Are you alright? I heard about what happened," Percy says, concern evident in his voice. I heard him sigh when I ignored him and continued to watch the waves crash onto the shore.

The memory of what transpired this morning kept replaying in my mind, and no matter how much I tried to forget it, I couldn't. Because it's impossible to erase that your own father shattered your heart even before any man could.

Me and Will were twins, we looked alike but not the same in terms of interests and personality. He was calm, and I was like a ticking time bomb. He's seen as humble, while I'm perceived to be arrogant. His likes were different from mine, and the same with our dislikes. Twins but exactly opposite from each other. Other campers thought I was Ares's child until they found out I was Will's twin sister. I guess that's why my father favoured Will all the time.

"Why can't you be like your brother?" Apollo asks in a booming voice that makes me flinch. "Why are you such a disgrace!" It sounded like a question, but it isn't. He meant it to be a declaration. That I am a disgrace. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, but I did not let them. The last thing I want to do is to cry in front of my father.

He continued to stare at me with so much loathing and contempt in his eyes. He didn't have to say it in words. I saw it, felt it. He despised me. Every single part of me, he hated it. At that moment, I realized that I would never be his perfect little Will. No matter how much I tried to make him proud, it would be useless because I would always be last to Will. I will always be his least favourite daughter.

"Will inherited all my best qualities, and you, inherited all the worst," He said with venom in his words. I looked down and closed my eyes when he turned into light and disappeared. Will entered the cabin seconds later and was shocked to see me alone with tears behind my eyes.

He opened his mouth to ask me what happened, but I darted out the door before he could even let out a single word.

I didn't even realize I was crying until Percy wrapped his arms around me and ran his fingers through my hair to calm me down. "It's going to be alright," He whispered gently in my ear. I cried my heart out into his chest. I allowed all the tears I've been hiding to flow down. I felt guilty for soaking Percy's sweater with my tears, but he did encourage me to continue until I no longer had any tears to give.

It lasted for almost 20 minutes. 20 minutes of my sobs and gasps for air, and Percy stayed the whole 20 minutes, whispering sweet encouragements and soothing words into my ear. As the last few tears I had finally dried, I gently removed myself from Percy's embrace.

He stared at me with his mesmerizing sea-coloured eyes that were filled with so much concern. I took a few deep breaths to calm me down, and when I finally did, I gave him a soft smile. He smiles back at me and places a tender kiss on my forehead.

I gaze off into the distance, admiring the captivating view of the ocean and the sky. Percy continued to draw delicate circles with his fingertips on my bare skin. I release a breath and allow my eyes to close and, for once, relax.

I rest my head on Percy's shoulder and continue to keep my eyes closed. Percy whispered sweet nothings in my ear. I block out every bad memory and thought that entered my mind and focused on Percy's soothing words.

"We should get out of here, you'll get sick my love," Percy whispered. He helped me stand up from the sand and held my hand as we both walked back to the Apollo cabin.

"Are you feeling better now? You can stay with me at my cabin, love. I don't mind," Said Percy. I gave him a soft smile and shook my head before placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. A soft pink tint on his cheeks was evident.

"I'll see you during dinner, Perc," I wave him goodbye and walked inside the cabin. I was immediately engulfed in a warm hug by 3 of my siblings, the 4 of us falling down on the floor.

"Off! Off! I wave the white flag!" I gasp, and all 3 of them got off and laid down on the floor beside me. "Oh, I think I just had a concussion," I say, holding my chest. "You're overreacting, Twinnie," Will said, and I gave him a playful smack to the arm.

"We heard what happened, sis," Kayla says, and I let out another sigh as I was reminded of the painful memory.

"We think you're the best, Y/n. You're the better twin," Austin joked. "I'm hurt, Austin," Will pretended to cry on my shoulder, which I shoved him away, laughing at his antics.

"We love you, Y/n," Austin, Kayla, and Will said in unison. I smiled and felt myself tear up from their heartfelt words. "Awwww, are you going to cry?" Will asked teasingly. "I never thought you were a crybaby, Y/n," Austin joked. Both of them earned a playful slap from me.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and smiles. The awful memory from this morning had already slipped my mind. My mind now filled with more happy and better memories created with my siblings. I couldn't ask for more.

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wolven91 · 5 months ago

Text

The Artist's Eye

"Why does it look so strange?" Asked the noble, tilting his head one way, then the other.

"I believe it's wider than it should be. I have a summer home that has those buildings in the background there..." A scaled, clawed hand points at the backdrop of the portrait. "The buildings are far thinner in real life. Everything is wider than it should be." Claimed the second noble, another male whose tongue briefly flicked out from between his scaled lips and lapped at the blue liquid in his delicate glass.

The pair of them continued to observe the giant portrait painting of an ursidain general. It was unheard of, and completely novel. A painting! With oils and hand-crafted hues and paints. If one leaned in, and observed the collection from the side, one could even see the uneven strokes and application of the paints against a canvas. The subject didn't matter, the ursidain was practically unheard of, but his commissioned painted was on loan to the ssypno people for a gallery event, featuring a human artist.

His style was unknown, his methods unorthodox to the point of being unheard of outside of ancient texts that describe using chintian fur brushes.

"Wider? I would say this would be the wrong portrait to observe if we are wanting to check if the human's eye adds inches to the subjects girth!" Tittered the noble, gesturing at the rotund ursidain. Unbeknownst to them, the general had been delighted at his portrait and only at the promise he could have another done, did he relinquish possession of his painting.

The two nobles approached another painting, this one of a member of House Sa'vurn. 'The Promised Daughter', one 'Desh Sa'vurn', the people's favourite.

The two nobles joined a third, a female who was coiled directly in front of it.

"Her eyes are rather alive, don't you think?" The noble asked openly, drawing the two male's attention. It was true, Desh's eyes followed them. One of the males felt judged, as if the people's favourite Sa'vurn had found him wanting, whilst the other found them angry, as she were posed to strike him.

"If you observe each of his subjects, they are all observed in one fashion or another, but it is their eyes where he has put in more detail than other artists." The noble observed.

"Why? I would know more of the subject if her body posture made sense. Her shoulders are back, but her tail coiled? Her hood is flared yet not a dot of heat."

"Of course there's no heat, it is an oil painting." The lady sighed, pointing out the obvious. "We are observing what the human sees."

"No heat? Boring." Moaned the judged male.

"Fascinating I say. We are stripped down to our most basic parts. There is no lying when standing in in front of his easel. He ignores or is blind to our attempts to show our heat, to radiate what we want others to perceive." Extrapolated the lady noble, referencing how almost every single ssypno in the gallery was displaying as much heat as they could in their hoods, to show that they were successful and didn't need to conserve their heat. She frowned as she reached out, only to stop herself from touching the canvas.

"I do wonder why do many portions are left so dark?"

"I can answer that my lady." Came a lyrical voice from behind. The trio of ssypno turned at once and met the eye of an esquinine. He didn't flinch, or close one eyes, but met their gazes without fear in turn.

"I have been privy to the human's art from the beginning, he rented my loft when he arrived on our home world." Explained the long-faced empath. "The portions that are dark to you, are actually a sea of different colours, but more in the hues of purples and dark blues. I'm afraid these are colours outside of your visual range."

The trio of large serpants turned back to the art and squinted, as if trying to force their vision to focus and draw forth a colour they'd never seen.

"It is one thing to know one has limited visual colours, it is another to stand before what we know is there and be unable to see it." The female noble lamented.

"Ugh, annoying. Why would he paint a ssypno with colours a ssypno can't see? Insulting."

"He paints for his own enjoyment; it just so happens that others consider this art worth money. Amazing than an artist is more creative when they aren't starving." Noted the esquinine before bowing curtly and leaving the ssypno behind. The esquinine meandered through and over the tails that trailed behind the various gallery patrons before slipping into a side down and strutting down a quiet hallway.

He came to a door, pressed his thumb to the reader then stepped inside.

The human was sat watching the screens.

"How's it going?" He asked, nervously nibbling on a nail. The esquinine stepped over and gently slapped the top of the human's hand, reminding him to stop with the nervous habit.

"Well. They still don't quite 'get' it, but then they are the upper crust. Dry and tasteless." Observed the empath, who turned to watch the screens as a crowd of ssypno tried to force their own world view onto art made by a wholly different species with a very different life to them.

"It's fun seeing ignorance get exposed over and over though..." Considered the esqunine, resting his head against a finger.

"Just because I see the world differently..." Mumbled the human, mildly frustrated.

"Galaxy, and I would be quick to point out they love to remind you, that you are smell blind. I think its rather justified to remind them that they are blind to a whole world of colours, no matter how rich they are." Pointed out the alien with a cold tone to the nobles.

"Body mods are a thing." Supplied the young man, considering how they could choose to have different eyes with their money.

"And admit they aren't perfect? They'd have an ice bath first." Came the esquinine's reply, without missing a beat, taking the human by surprise.

The human grinned and couldn't help but smile at the curt and cutting remarks of his closest ally, cheering him up immediately.

#conservationverse #cuddleverse #human #hfy #haso #humans are space orcs #furry #human x furry

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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

Text

Part 6: Leaps of Faith

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 7

I hope that you catch me, cause I'm already falling (you put your arms around me and I'm home)

(In which a writer who can see the end approaching starts building towards that ending)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Angst and Fluff

Words: 8.0K

TW: Swearing, Alludes to Sexual Content

A/N: Good evening my lovelies <3. Happy Sunday and Happy Mothers day! First of all, I wanna thank y'all for being ever so patient with me. I know I've been pretty bad about updating lately and y'all have been so sweet with your asks and I really appreciate it. This fic is very close to its end. I probably could have ended it with this chapter but there's a very specific ending I want to write so this one is more of a self-indulgent filler but I think y'all will like this one. There will be one more chapter and then an epilogue of sorts. Once again, there are most likely logistical inaccuracies. I'm not even gonna lie, the editing on this one is shoddy so there are definitely grammar errors/typos. For now, ignore them and I'll go fix them later. As always, even if we're near the end, feel free let me know what you liked, what you didn't and anything you'd like to see before we get to the end. Have a wonderful week my angels <3

April 2024

“It’s a little early for ice cream hon,” Azzi jumps at the sound of her mother’s voice, startled eyes following the direction of the noise to find Katie leaning against the kitchen door, with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a little early to scare the living bejesus out of me mom,” she says with a hand to her chest.

If possible, Katie’s eyes roll even further at her daughter’s sarcastic tone as she makes her way over to the kitchen counter. She’s gotten herself a spoon and everything, ready to steal some ice cream for herself, when she notices the flavour. Next to her, Azzi stiffens.

“You hate mint chocolate chip Az,” Katie says quietly.

“I couldn’t find the strawberry ice cream,” Azzi defends stubbornly, her face taking on a guarded expression.

Katie walks over to the freezer, opening it and pointing at the strawberry ice cream, Azzi’s favourite, that’s sitting in plain sight, “it’s right there.”

“Well,” Azzi splutters, “I’m trying something new,”.

“You hate trying new things.”

“I’ve grown up I guess.”

“Azzi.”

“Mom.”

“Azzi, why are you eating ice cream you hate at 4 in the morning?” Katie finally asks in her best mom voice, sighing when she gets a mumbled response from her daughter, “in words Az, please.”

“Paige likes it,” Azzi admits slowly, and before Katie can say anything, before Azzi can dwell on what she’s said, she launches into a rant, “god knows why. Actually I know why because she’s stupid and weird and likes the dumbest shit. Who the fuck likes mint? Who the fuck likes mint and chocolate together? Gross. This shit is disgusting. It tastes all wrong. Paige is just-,” Azzi throws her hands up in the air, “she just doesn’t understand that some things don’t belong together. They can’t. They’re too different and it just- there’s a fucking balance to things you know? And she just- she doesn’t get that. It’s just- it’s not meant to be.”

“That doesn’t explain why you’re eating it right now,” Katie says carefully.

“Because I miss her,” the truth bursts out of Azzi like an erupting volcano, burning itself into every crevice of her skin, “because for some fucking reason I don’t hate the taste of mint chocolate chip. Because maybe they do go together and maybe I’ve been the stupid one this whole time.”

Since she’d stepped out of the hotel in Cleveland, all Azzi could think about was going back, saying fuck it to all the useless logic she’d come up with and going back to the only thing in her life that had ever made sense her Paige. But as it often did in that clichéd battle between head and heart, her head had won out. And she’s never questioned why her head wins so much, why she’s always chosen to listen to the practical side of her brain, until now. Until now when the urge to turn back time, to make herself stay in that hotel room, is all that’s consumed her for the last week.

“Azzi,” Katie wraps her arms around the younger girl, “what happened with you and Paige?”

Azzi hesitates for a second and then everything’s spilling out of her lips, the good, the bad, the inbetween, all of it tumbles out like an uncontrollable waterfall. There’s something freeing about being able to say it all out loud, something freeing about the tears Azzi finally lets roll down her cheeks. She grips the edge of the counter to keep herself from keeling over, starting to feel herself crumble under the heaviness of all these stupid feelings.

“It shouldn’t be this hard,” Azzi whispers, “we used to be so easy.”

“Oh Az,” Katie rubs a thumb against her daughter’s cheek, “you used to be kids. You’re all grown up now. It’s always harder when you’re older.”

“Well, I don’t like it. I just want to be the way we were again.”

“So why don’t you?” Katie asks like it’s the most simple solution in the world and Azzi shoots her mother an exasperated look.

“What do you mean? How do we even do that? We can’t be just friends again. We tried. Were you not listening at all?”

“Azzi, sweetheart, you’ve never been just friends.”

“That’s not true,” it’s a futile attempt at arguing against what’s become more of a fact than an opinion in Azzi’s life. It’s a truth she’d let herself acknowledge once and then buried deep within her, scared that once unleashed, it would ruin everything. Except, it turns out, even without it, things had still turned to dust.

“Do you remember when you came home from Minnesota that first summer with Paige? You were either moping around or you were on call with her. There was no in between. It got better eventually, the moping stopped but the calls? I think you fell asleep on facetime with her almost every night. And you were tired every morning after, you barely had time to eat before school but every time I suggested that maybe you cut back, that was never an option,” Katie smiles fondly, “it’s when I knew.”

Azzi does remember, remembers talking about everything and nothing, remembers laughing and crying, remembers when Paige’s breathing was the only lullaby that could relax her into sleeping. And she remembers battling with that voice in her head, the one convinced there’s something more, silencing it with I’d do this with anyone. But that wasn’t true then and it’s not true now because Paige has never been just anyone, never been just a friend. Because even if Azzi’s never been brave enough to say it out loud, Paige is and has always been everything.

Despite knowing the answer and maybe dreading it just a little bit, Azzi asks it to her mom anyway, “what did you know?”

“That she was your person. You were too young, I couldn’t call it love just yet but I knew Paige was different then, she was yours in a way none of your other friends were. You were different around her,” Katie nudges her daughter, “Azzi you’ve always been just a little bit in love with her and she’s always been just a little bit in love with you too. The two of you have just been a matter of time.”

Azzi closes her eyes, and unlike other people, she doesn’t see darkness or little spots of light, she just sees Paige. Her mother’s words wash over her, like acid in her self-inflicted fight the feelings wounds and yet, the idea of she’s loved me too feels like a band-aid being delicately placed on the scars of her heart.

“And place,” she whispers, eyes still closed, “we never seem to get time and place right.”

“Why do you need to?”

Another exasperated look is sent Katie’s way at that question, “we live on different sides of the country mom, what do you mean why do we need to?”

“I mean the two of you have barely ever been in the same place. But you made it work, when you had even less, when you felt even less. But you’re adults now. You have other resources now. And I know timing is difficult but- it’s you and Paige. What are you so scared of Azzi?”

Azzi sucks in a deep breath, “what if Paige runs away again?”

“What if you run away again?”

“Excuse me?”

“Who was the last person to walk away, Azzi?,” Katie sighs when Azzi is adamantly silent, “I know she hurt you by leaving. I know she hurt you by pushing you away. But you did the same thing. You chose UCLA,” Katie holds up a hand when a frustrated Azzi tries to interrupt, “and it was the right decision for you Azzi and she should have supported it. But that doesn’t meant you didn’t hurt her and then you chose Zoe-”

“I didn’t choose Zoe-”

“Yes you did Azzi. Sweetheart you’re my daughter and I will always tell you the complete truth even if it’s not what you wanna hear. And the truth Azzi is that Paige might have hurt you in 101 different ways but that doesn’t mean you didn’t hurt her back in 99 different ways too.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Azzi whispers, “that’s the problem mom. It hurts when she hurts me but it hurts even more when I hurt her. I don’t want that for us but I just- I just don’t know how to stop it without stopping us.”

“You haven’t even tried, baby. Paige held out a hand and you ran away.”

“She left first. How am I supposed to trust that she won’t just do that again," all that’s missing from Azzi’s stubborn whine is a foot stomp.

“Because she came back. It took her a little bit, I know, but she came back and she’s ready to fight, the question is, are you?”

“Why are you defending her?” Azzi splutters, “who’s side are you even on?”

“There are no sides to this sweetheart. The two of you are on the same side. So maybe instead of fighting against her, take that hand, fight with her.”

***

The WNBA draft is a momentous occasion this year. With a hyped draft class like no other, and the promise of even greater ones in the future, there’s a sense of celebratory hope dangling in the air. When the invite had first come in, Azzi had known the same one would be sent to a certain blonde in Connecticut as well. And a part of her had wanted to hide herself away from that possible collision, but every other part of her wanted nothing more than to get just a glimpse of the blonde.

One moment Azzi is surrounded by flashing cameras and the echo of her name on everyone’s lips, the next everything around her is fading away her eyes meet Paige’s on the other end of the WNBA draft orange carpet. It’s nothing new really. Since she’s met her, the blonde has commandeered all of Azzi’s attention whenever she’s nearby. Sometimes it feels like all of her other five senses fade away to give birth to a secret sixth one, one that’s solely dedicated to Paige, one that’s terrifyingly all-consuming. And yet, despite the heaviness of we’ve said too many goodbyes, for the first time in what feels like eternity, Azzi feels like she can finally breathe.

And then Paige looks away.

And Azzi’s back to struggling for air.

It’s selfish of her, she knows, to expect something, not when she’d been the one to leave them stranded on different islands. But Azzi doesn’t seem to think logically when it comes to Paige and even as she tries to turn her focus back to posing for the camera, every inch of her body is dangerously aware of the blonde’s every move, just a mere few feet away from her. Her conversation with her mother is echoing in her head, giving rise to dangerous desires of what if i grabbed your hand and we ran away together.

Paige is a natural on the orange carpet, all dazzling smiles and twinkling eyes. She glides through it, inching closer and closer to Azzi, but never giving away any sense of discomfort. And if it was anybody else, maybe they’d never catch onto the nerves hidden beneath Paige’s facade of calm, cool and collected. But once upon a time Paige used to be Azzi’s favourite puzzle and she has every part of the blonde committed to memory. It’s in the way Paige’s teeth gnaw at her lips for the briefest of seconds, in the way her right index finger is begging to tap a beat against where her hands rests on hips, in the way she’s blinking just one too many times.

And then with one more heavy footed step from Paige, the distance between them is barely a couple inches and they let out identical breaths of air, both of them keeping their focus on the cameras in front of them. It’s loud, too loud, and still all Azzi can focus on is the sound of Paige breathing. The air around them is thick with tension. It feels a bit like they’re silhouetted against a sky made of words they’ve left unsaid and clouds of all the bitter mistakes they’ve made are hanging over their heads. And when their pinkies brush together, and a jolt of electricity sends shivers of I miss you more every day again her skin, Azzi questions if she’s ever made the right decision when it comes to Paige.

“Wait wait wait,” Ari cuts in, as she squeezes herself in between the two of them, “I wanna get in between the two of you.”

A harsh cry of no sits heavily on the top of Azzi’s tongue as the older woman forces a break in whatever little bit of contact she’d had with Paige. She feels a little pathetic, the way every little inch of her skin is craving for that touch back. It had been nothing, a barely there moment and still Azzi thinks, when she goes to bed tonight, if that was all she’d get of Paige, then it’ll be the only thing that’ll feature in her dreams.

“Alright one with just Paige and Azzi,” Ari directs the media, stepping out of the way and pushing the two younger girls together. And it’s laughable that a little brush of their pinkies had Azzi feeling any type of way because when they’re suddenly pressed together, every inch of Paige’s side fitting into Azzi’s like it belongs, the way the world suddenly bursts with light and colours makes Azzi wonder if every moment without Paige has simply been monochrome.

It comes to them naturally how to pose together, arms winding around each other’s waist, heads involuntarily leaning against the other’s. And the smiles might be for the cameras but Azzi knows hers is the most real it’s been all night. It might be temporary, she might lose Paige in the chaos, but for now Paige is here and Azzi has learned how to be content with whatever little she can get.

As the media moves to capture other people, the logical thing to do would be to separate, to let go of each other. But instead they stand there, still completely wrapped around each other, heart rates in sync as they breathe in each other’s presence. And then Paige’s hand falls from the small of Azzi’s back to tangle their fingers together and they let out identical sighs of relief, something so cathartic in the purposefulness of that touch. Everyone is too busy to notice that the two of them have fallen into a whole other world, one where there’s only two of them and every emotion that they’ve only reserved for the other. There’s no words exchanged as Paige guides the two of them out of the spotlight, somehow keeping their hands clasped together in secret, despite the ever growing crowd. And Azzi doesn’t know this building at all, doesn’t have the faintest clue where she’s being led to, but as long as it’s Paige pulling her along, she doesn’t care where, she thinks she’d go anywhere.

Paige stops abruptly in a secluded corridor, turning to fully face Azzi. And the sincerity in the blonde’s crystalline blue eyes, as they roam every inch of Azzi’s body before coming to fixate on her face, steals the air away from Azzi’s lungs. Paige has gotten better over the years at building walls, but with every new lock she places on her emotions, there’s a key to open them that seems to always find its way to Azzi. In the delicate golden hue, Paige shines brighter than any star ever could and in the dim light Azzi can make out every bit of hurt and love and please can we just have this moment that Paige can’t put into words.

“Hi,” Azzi whispers softly, hands itching to reach out and caress Paige’s skin.

“Hi,” Paige says back, even quieter. She stares at Azzi as if she’s memorising every little detail and then her face crumbles. Azzi feels her heart drop at the single tear that trickles down Paige’s cheek as she lets out a broken whimper. And this, this unspoken power they seem to have over each other, the uncanny ability to just hurt each other without any bit of effort, is what scares Azzi the most. It’s too much. They shouldn’t be able to do this.

“Paige,” Azzi’s fingers twitch but she hesitates, not knowing if it’s the right thing, “fuck- P what’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t reply, eyes wandering down to where Azzi’s trying to keep her hands still against her sides and when she looks back up, her eyes are bloodshot, “what’s wrong? What’s not wrong Azzi? You won’t even fucking touch me.”

“I didn’t-” Azzi struggles to speak, “I didn’t think you’d want me to.”

“Can you just- fuck- can you just stop overthinking things for once in your life. Of course I want you to touch- you know what nevermind. This was a bad idea. You made yourself clear and I’m just- fuck- I should- I should just go.”

She sounds adamant enough but all it takes, when Paige moves to leave, is the strangled cry that leaves Azzi’s lips. The sound is enough to pull Paige right back in. She takes one look at the tears brimming in Azzi’s eyes. And then she’s pushing Azzi against a wall, hands on either side caging the younger girl between her body and the hard surface behind. She presses their foreheads together and Azzi feels like every part of her might just be a part of Paige too.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much. It’s barely been two weeks and I- fuck- Azzi- I’ve missed you every single second and now you’re here and I still miss you. And it really fucking hurts.”

“I’m sorry,” Azzi whispers, finally letting her hands cup Paige’s cheeks, and it’s worth it for the way Paige seems to completely melt into her touch, “I’m sorry I keep hurting you. I keep thinking I’m doing the right thing but- I don’t know- I feel like I’m always doing the wrong thing when it comes to you. I don’t- I don’t know what to do.”

“Just let me be with you,” Paige’s voice is wrecked with desperation as she presses herself as close to Azzi as possible, “I’ll be your whatever- whatever you give me- whatever you want- I just- I just want you Az- whatever little bit you’re willing to give me- I’ll take it- and if you want me to wait- fuck Azzi- I’d wait forever- you know that right? However long it takes, baby. Just want you- just want us.”

Leaps of faith are scary. Azzi’s never been great at taking them, too cautious, too much of a worrier. She’s more of a step back from the cliff kind of person. If she doesn’t jump, she can’t fall. But here’s the thing, when she was fourteen, Azzi jumped off of her first hypothetical cliff. It had been on a plane, when after avoiding one too many deep questions, Azzi had admitted to a girl she barely knew,that maybe she could like girls. It was the first time she’d ever let herself acknowledge that truth about herself and the girl next to her was a stranger but there was something about her, something that screamed i’ll hold your hand and if you jump it’ll never be alone. And ever since then, that girl, Paige, has always been there. Hands outstretched, ready to jump off any ledge. Because if there’s hard ground underneath, then they’ll learn how to fly together and if there’s water, they’ll figure out how to swim. With Paige there has always been the promise that, whatever it is, they’ll figure it out together. And it’s with that promise in mind, that Azzi takes the leap of faith.

“Me too,” Azzi whispers, heart beating erratically.

“What?” Paige searches Azzi’s face, as if waiting for her to take it back.

“Us. You. You and me. I want that too,” a ghost of a smile begins to creep onto Azzi’s face, and for the first time in god knows how long, she feels feather light, a little bit like she’s floating on a rainbow.

“You mean it?” Paige asks earnestly, hands moving from the wall to clutch at Azzi’s waist, “don’t play-Azzi- okay- you mean it for real?”

“I do. I want this- I want this so much and I’m still- I’m still really scared and maybe it’ll be a disaster but I- I want to try. With you.”

Azzi used to think she knew all of Paige’s smiles. Her small, not quite fake, but only for cameras and people she didn’t quite know, smiles. Her just for my friends smile that was filled with mirth and childlike joy. Her basketball smile that transformed into a smirk when she got too cocky. Her only for Drew smile, soft and filled with so much adoration and pride. Her Azzi smile, the one only the brown-skinned girl gets to experience, a smile that made Azzi’s her heart swell with love. But the smile that stretches across Paige’s face now, is one Azzi’s never seen before. This one throws Azzi’s entire world of balance, so bright, so big, so full of emotions. If she could, she’d tattoo that smile onto her skin forever.

“We’re really doing this?” Paige asks, still a little stunned. It wasn’t what Azzi had planned for tonight. She hadn’t really had any plans for what would really happen. But then Paige had walked in and all Azzi could see was forever she was tired of fighting against.

“We should take it slow okay-” Azzi wraps her arms around the older girl’s neck, keeping their foreheads still against each other’s, “I don’t- I don’t wanna rush into things and fuck it up. I can’t- fuck- I can’t lose y-”

“You won’t,” Paige swears, squeezing at Azzi’s wait, “I won’t let you. We can take it slow. We can take it however you want- I just- we’re doing this?”

“Yeah,” Azzi can’t help the grin that fills up her entire face, “yeah we’re doing this.”

And as they surge forward to claim each other’s lips, and as they meld every inch of themselves into each other, and as they smile and cry into the kiss simultaneously, and as they etch promises into each other skin, and as they let themselves finally fall into each other, for each other, it feels a lot like coming home.

***

July 2024

The early morning sunlight casts a dark shadow across Paige’s face, causing the still asleep blonde to scrunch up her face in irritation. Azzi, who’s been awake for nearly half an hour now, can’t help the fond smile that creeps onto her own lips. She shifts herself to block the sun and Paige lets out a content sigh, burrowing herself further into her pillows. And the thing is every moment with Paige is special but there’s something about waking up to her in the morning. Azzi’s always awake first and it gives her ample time to just admire the girl in her arms, blond hair tousled all over her pillow, lips parted slightly open, and one arm always, always, splayed across Azzi’s torso, holding her close. Over the course of time, Azzi’s found out that the second she moves, Paige seems to feel her leave, waking up instantly.

There had been an adjustment period if Azzi's honest. It had taken her a while to shake that fear of Paige not being there in the morning. The first morning, she’d been scared to open her eyes, even if she could feel Paige’s presence right next to her. That had been one of the few mornings that Paige was fully awake first, hovering above Azzi to wake her up. And when she finally did get the courage to open her eyes, the first thing Azzi had seen was Paige, blue eyes sparkling with unfiltered adoration, a smile filled with promises of every morning just like this. And that had been enough.

Azzi reaches out to brush a hand through Paige’s soft blond hair, mesmerised by how pretty Paige looks in the morning glow. A lot of Paige belongs to the world now and Azzi’s not opposed to sharing really, because someone so fucking perfect, deserves to be celebrated like that. But there are some parts of Paige that belong to Azzi and Azzi only, some parts Azzi cherishes as being only hers. This is one of them and Azzi takes a snapshot of it, knowing she’ll need it to function in a few months, when she won’t get the real thing.

“Are you watching Paige sleep?” Azzi almost jumps at the sound of Drew’s voice at the doorway, having been too immersed in Paige to have even heard the door open, “that’s kinda creepy Azzi.”

“Jesus Drew, whatever happened to knocking?”

“I forgot?” Drew grins, before he plops on the bed, the force of it making the whole frame shake a little bit.

“Drew!” Azzi chides, “you’re gonna wake her up.”

Drew cocks his eyebrows, sparing his sister, who seems unphased by the sudden little bit of chaos around her, still fast asleep, an unimpressive look, “please she can sleep through anything. Besides, it’s already 9. I thought we were gonna do things. I been up for aaaages.”

“She’ll be awake soon,” Azzi smiles, ruffling the younger boy's hair. Drew rolls his eyes and it’s remarkable how much he resembles Paige, not just by face, but the mannerisms too.

He huffs for a second before his eyes sparkle with an idea, “what if we pour water on her!”

“Drew!” Azzi chastises again, trying not to giggle.

“Boo,” Drew crosses his arms across his chest, “you used to be so cool Azzi.”

Azzi laughs as she’s reminded of a younger version of herself, scheming with Drew on how to wake Paige up. And it’s not that she’s beyond that really, tucking the water idea for a rainy day, but Paige looks too peaceful this morning and she wants to preserve that look of serenity on the older girl’s face for just a little bit longer.

“Hey Azzi,” Drew says after a while and Azzi hums in response, “when you and Paige get married, I can still be a groomsman right? Even if there’s no grooms?”

“Wha- where did that come from?” the brunette’s eyes widened at the question, sitting up a little straighter.

Drew peers up at her with all the innocence of a pre-teen, “you are gonna get married right?”

“I don’t-”

“It’s too early for your yapping Drew,” Azzi’s saved from answering by Paige’s tired voice entering the conversation. She looks over to find Paige’s eyes already on her, a soft smile playing on her lips as she looks up at Azzi. If Drew wasn’t sitting right there, Azzi would lean over and kiss her and let Paige deepen it until they were both satisfied.

“Oh thank god,” Drew cheers dramatically, “I thought you were gonna sleep forever.”

Paige scoffs, the arm that’s still wrapped around Azzi’s torso tightening its hold, “I wish.”

“Well you’re awake now so get up,” Drew whines, moving from his spot on the end of the bed, to flop on top of Paige’s body instead, “get up, get up, GET UP.”

“Get off,” Paige groans but there’s no real force behind it. Azzi watches with a fond smile, as Paige flips Drew over so that she can tickle him, eliciting rounds of laughter from the younger boy. Something in her heart flutters, her mind going back to Drew’s question. She’s never really been one to think too hard about marriage and children and that domestic suburban life, leaving it up to fate, but now- well, maybe.

“Okay aight aight enough. Go get ready for breakfast and we’ll be down in a second,” Paige says, ushering Drew off of the bed.

“You can just tell me you want me to leave so you can kiss Azzi you know?” Drew scrunches up his nose, “you two are gross.”

Paige sends him a stern look and gets a dramatic eye roll in return but as he always does, Drew does as he’s told, mock saluting the two of them and skipping out of the room.

“He’s right by the way,” Paige says softly, turning back to where Azzi’s leaning against the backboard, “I do want to kiss you.”

Azzi smirks lopsidedly, “what’s stopping you?”

She squeals in surprise when Paige pulls her, the force of it causing both of them to tumble onto the front-end of the bed. Azzi ends up on top of Paige, hands resting around her neck, the blonde’s hands holding her waist in place.

“Good morning,” Paige grins, clearly proud of herself as she chases Azzi’s lips to pull her into a searing kiss.

“Good morning,” Azzi whispers back, thumb caressing Paige’s left cheek.

“Just so you know,” Paige pulls away, a determined glint in her eyes, “we’re so getting married one day.”

***

October 2024

Azzi’s mood has been rancid for the last couple of weeks. It’s terrible she knows; it makes her irritating to play with and a nightmare to live with. But even if this had been expected, that she would be on one end of the country and her heart would be on the other side, it doesn’t stop her from constantly being in a state of missing Paige. And it’s different from before, now that there’s a certain surety of of course i’ll see you soon but soon never really feels soon enough.

“Azzi can you please get the door,” Kiki calls from her room when the doorbell rings.

“I’m busy,” Azzi grunts back, snuggling further into her pillow with a book she isn’t actually reading, “you go get it.”

“Azzi please, I’m literally in the middle of getting dressed,” Kiki yells exasperatedly.

If it wasn’t for the fact that she’s pretty sure her teammates are about this close to plotting her murder, and deservedly so, Azzi would sink back onto her bed and let the incessant doorbell noise continue. But she does love her teammates, thinks Kiki probably deserves to change in peace, and it forces her out of bed, grumbling away about annoying visitors. Until she actually gets a look at the visitor. Paige stands on the doorstep, confident as ever, a bouquet of roses and peonies and lilies in her hand.

“You’re here,” Azzi breathes out, staring in awe.

“And thank fucking god she is,” Kiki quips from behind her, “maybe we can finally get our old happy Azzi back and not this bitch.”

Paige laughs, “watch how you talk about my girl Rice.”

“You’re here. You’re really here,” Azzi whispers again.

“I heard you missed me baby,” Paige says, her cocky smirk betrayed by the softness in her voice. And then Azzi is flying into her arms, throwing Paige off balance.

“So fucking much,” Azzi admits into Paige’s neck, eliciting a giggle from the blonde, “Kiki’s right. I have been a bitch.”

“Just a little bit,” Kiki calls out again but there’s a new fondness in her voice. It’s funny how her team, even the haters, have slowly become Paige fans. They’d been hesitant at first, just like the UConn girls, but now well, it seems the basketball world’s Montagues and Capulets have learned to accept their star players’ relationship.

“Missed you too Az,” Paige’s tone is vulnerable as they break away, “alright, go get changed, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Or…,” Azzi presses her lips to Paige’s neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, “we could stay here and do something else.”

Paige shivers under her touch, stepping away to keep some semblance of control “n-no I have plans,” but she can’t help but kiss Azzi’s pout away, “it’ll be worth it, I promise. Besides,” she bites at Azzi’s ear, “there’s always later.”

***

“Your big plans are to bring me to the supermarket,” Azzi cocks an eyebrow as they walk down one of the many aisles, “you turned down sex for this? Should I be offended?”

Paige doesn’t say anything, concentratedly looking at signs, trying to figure out a specific section, before an aha! moment dances over her face, and she pulls Azzi with her, the younger girl going willingly, despite the eye roll. She stops triumphantly in front of the sushi section and Azzi looks at her quizzically.

“I’m getting you supermarket sushi,” Paige says pointedly, “and then you can get me mac and cheese.”

And if you brought me sushi I’d have brought you your favourite mac and cheese. Oh. The realisation of what Paige is doing trickles around Azzi a little bit like rain after a long summer drought. She thinks back to the bouquet, everything suddenly making sense.

“You’re such a dork Paige Bueckers,” Azzi says softly, tapping the older girl’s nose.

“Your dork,” Paige grins cheesily, “now hurry up and pick one. I don’t wanna miss the sunset.”

***

Once she catches on it, it doesn’t surprise Azzi to find that Paige has everything planned out perfectly, down to the exact spot in the park- the one by Paige’s recovery airBnB, the one they’d taken countless walks in trying to repair their friendship- where the two of them can be away from everybody else, in their own little bubble. And she has a picnic blanket, that’s a little small but they don’t really want space from each other anyways. They lean against a tree, food set up in front of them, Paige’s laptop, carefully piled on top of a couple of books to be the perfect height, set a little bit further away.

“So what NBA game are we watching?” Azzi asks with a smile and Paige groans, “what? Was that not part of the plan?”

“Dude come on. It’s the beginning of October. Please tell me you know the NBA season isn’t happening yet,” Paige rubs her temple, only a little endeared by the comment, “are you sure you’re a basketball player?”

“There are games in October. I swear I’ve seen them before,” Azzi says sceptically.

“Yeah at the very end of the month, not right now.”

“Well then close enough,” Azzi says indignantly, “I don’t need to know the exact day.”

“Whatever you say baby,” Paige acquiesces with a smirk and it earns her an elbow to the stomach, “what the fuck? That shit’s domestic violence you know?”

“Big words Bueckers, didn’t think you knew them,” Azzi teases, placing a kiss against Paige’s offended expression, before settling herself against the blonde’s side, sighing contentedly when she gets a kiss on her temple in return. They’re cliché enough to put on Love and Basketball, but Azzi doesn’t really end up watching much at all. In between slow kisses, she almost falls asleep a couple of times, the comfort of Paige’s arms like a blanket wrapping her in the warmth of this is my fairytale.

“THE POLAROID,” Paige’s shout breaks Azzi out of her haze as she feels her body being shaken off, the blonde rummaging through her bag for the camera, “we have to take the polaroid. My wall needs it.”

“Oh yeah a tiny polaroid picture of us inbetween all your Lebron posters, a perfect fit,” Azzi drawls only to be met with a scathing look from Paige.

“It’s for important things and Lebron is the most important of them all,” Paige explains with complete seriousness, as she finally finds the polaroid camera and shimmies back to Azzi with it in hand.

The sunset is beautiful. Pink, purple, orange and blue, all blending together to create the perfect picture. But Azzi thinks it’s not nearly as beautiful as the girl in front of her, not nearly as beautiful as the date Paige had planned, not nearly as beautiful as the future she can so clearly see now. Her mind drifts back to the night of the phone call, and she can almost hear Paige’s sobs again, can still hear her own voice breaking. Back then, they had seemed impossible, a butterfly like dream that danced out of their grasp.

“Hey,” Paige captures her chin with two fingers, “where’d you go?”

Azzi shakes her head, “nowhere. I’m right here. With you. Where I should be.”

“Sappy goof,” Paige snorts but she kisses Azzi like she’ll take those words and hide them in the labyrinth of her mind, protect them there forever.

Taking the picture is a task, both of them bickering about angles and lights. It’s unnecessary arguing, in true Paige and Azzi fashion really but there’s something so mundanely domestic about it that Azzi finds herself wanting to memorise this moment too. They finally get the frame just right, somewhere in between what they both wanted. Azzi smiles at the camera, her Paige smile, as the blonde in question presses her lips against her cheeks.

Click.

And Azzi hopes, that however many years later, when they have a home of their own, amidst all the photos that they’ll take over the next years, this one will be hung somewhere on their wall, a testament to finally realising every dream they’d dared to dream together.

***

December 2024

There are pebbles being thrown at her window and Azzi has to stop herself from laughing when she peers down to see Paige, freezing cold in the Virginia December air, staring up at her with a goofy smile. She shakes her head when her phone rings, knowing it’s Paige and answers it with her own foolish grin.

“What exactly are you doing?” Azzi asks, “come back to bed.”

“You said I was unromantic. I’m trying to be romantic,” Paige’s teeth chatter in the cold, as she balances her phone in one hand, still throwing rocks with the other.

“I didn’t say that and throwing rocks at my window is supposed to be romantic? You’re going to wake the whole house up.”

“That’s what they do in all the good rom coms. And you said and I quote ‘we’re kind of boring’. You might be boring Azzi Fudd but I most definitely am not.”

It had been a throwaway comment Azzi had made at dinner with some friends from high school. One of her friends had been going on and on about some adventurous trip that she and her boyfriend were going on, and then asked Paige and Azzi if they had any of that planned. To which Azzi had replied that they were a little too busy, considering they were college basketball players still in season, and besides they were “kind of boring” people. She hadn’t meant it in any type of way. Personally, Azzi likes boring. Paige however, seemed to have taken the comment to heart and Azzi had woken up at 2 a.m. to an empty bed and the sound of something being thrown at her window.

“Okay I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You're really interesting baby and the most romantic person in the world. Now will you please come back to bed,” Azzi concedes, already missing the feeling of being cuddled up in her blankets with Paige’s body heat keeping her nice and toasty.

“No,” Paige says indignantly, “come down here.”

“Paige, it's freezing. It’s gonna start snowing any minute.”

“Exactly. That’s exciting.”

“Sleep is exciting,” Azzi whines, but she’s already padding around her room looking for a warm sweater, grumbling under her breath about the warm California sun she’s missing. She tiptoes down the staircase, wincing at the one step that creaks just a little too much, before pushing herself out the door. And it’s freezing cold, there’s sleep in her eyes, but it’s all worth it Azzi thinks, it’ll always be worth it, just to experience Paige’s smile.

“Knew you’d come,” Paige grins cockily, mittened hands pulling Azzi into her.

“Yeah yeah. What are we even doing?”

“Azzi Fudd,” Paige bellows dramatically, “may I have this dance.”

Azzi stares at Paige’s outstretched hand wondering if this is some sort of cry for help, but one look at Paige’s face tells her that the girl in front of her is being absolutely serious.

“This is your idea of exciting? Dancing in the street while it’s freezing with no music?” Azzi raises an eyebrow, but she takes Paige’s hand.

“It’s spontaneous,” Paige says the last word with a flourish, as she spins Azzi, “why not dance in the street when it’s freezing with no music?”

And well, that’s a fair point. If anyone were to look out their window that night, they’d probably think the two girls were somewhat crazy. Laughing and giggling and tripping over each other as Paige hums a melody and Azzi occasionally joins in. It’s ridiculous and corny and cliché and perfect. And then the first little bit of snow falls, white drops circling around the two dancing girls, snowflakes catching on their eyelashes. The dim glow of the streetlight is enough to catch identical smiles on the two girl’s faces as they revel in each other.

“You know some people say if you make a wish during the first snowfall, it’ll come true,” Paige whispers, still waltzing the two of them around, cheek pressed to Azzi’s, “you wanna try?”

And the thing is Azzi doesn’t really believe in all of that, in magic but something about Paige, something about this moment feels magical. It makes a believer out of Azzi.

“Yeah,” Azzi smiles, “let’s make a wish.”

They stand still, holding hands, eyes closed, both a little breathless, as they make their wishes. And when they open them, if it feels a little bit like maybe their wishes have already been granted, well they’ll share it in a secret smile but never out loud. After all, wishes don’t come true if you speak of them.

***

April 2025

7 seconds to go in the National Championship and Azzi’s UCLA Bruins are down by two points. It’s her last chance, having already declared for the 2025 WNBA draft, to win a national championship, to bring home their first basketball national championship since the 1978 team that had won the AIAW championship, to win their first NCAA championship ever. It had taken some sheer luck to get to this point if Azzi’s honest. As a two-seed in the Spokane region, they’d benefitted from their one-seed having been eliminated early and then getting to face a Cinderella six-seed in the final four. On the other side of the bracket, UConn, the favourites coming for a repeat, had been stunned by another team, the team that UCLA was now facing. That had caused a bit of a second-hand sting and Azzi’s not really trying to take revenge for Paige, but it'd be a lie to say the get back at them for me babe from earlier this morning isn’t ringing in her head.

The play is simple, set screens for Azzi, get her open, get her the ball. A two would get them to a tie and three would win it outright. Either will do. It’s a little too reminiscent of last year when Azzi had failed at tying the final 4 game and she can still feel that loss on the tips of her fingers. They break out from their last timeout, breathlessly running to their spots on the floor. The whistle blows, Kiki inbounds the ball and everything is a blur. All Azzi knows is the shot clock is winding down. She runs off of what feels like a million screens. And then she’s open on the wing, for a millisecond. A perfect pass from Kiki makes sure the ball lands straight in Azzi’s hand. And she doesn’t think, doesn’t breathe, doesn’t even notice the defender put up a hand, she shoots the ball. There’s two people on the court that know for sure that ball is going in the minute it leaves Azzi’s fingers, the shooter herself and her biggest fan in the stands, who’s been just a little bit in love with that shooting stroke, since before anything else had even begun.

With a delicate swish, the ball falls through the net, the buzzer sounds around the arena, the crowd explodes in blue and gold, as the UCLA Bruins win the 2025 national championship.

Everything stills in Azzi’s brain for a second, her thoughts taking a second to catch up to reality. She’s never really been one to emotion on the court, keeping herself steely guarded through most games, even at the very end. But now, triumph and pride and just utter happiness at finally achieving one of her biggest dreams, comes roaring to the surface, manifesting itself throughout her entire body, as she lets out a scream of joy. Her teammates engulf her and she gets lost in a sea of hugs and tears and bright, decadent smiles.

As thing start to calm down, there’s really only one thing on Azzi’s mind and Paige’s words echo in her ears, because if I’m gonna end up fucking crying, then I want it to be on your shoulder. And if I’m gonna end up celebrating, I want it to be in your arms. And Azzi thinks maybe Paige had discovered one of the biggest truths of their life with that, the truth that at the end of day, in any moment, big or small, happy or sad, the one person Azzi wants next to her, is her Paige. It’s been that way since she was fourteen, and too young to really understand the meaning of wanting someone forever, and she thinks if she has her way, it’ll be like that for the rest of her life, the rest of their life.

Paige is beaming in the crowd, standing next to Jon and José, a #35 jersey proudly adorning her torso. She waves when she catches Azzi’s eyes, always her biggest cheerleader. And Azzi throws caution to the wind, fuck it, not caring that there’s still a large crowd or that cameras are likely to follow her every move. She pushes her way into the stands, stopping right in front of the blonde.

“On a scale of one to ten, how bad would kissing you right now be?” Azzi asks, still a little breathless.

A myriad of emotions flicker through Paige’s face before settling on a mischievous smirk, “probably pretty bad but you should do it anyways.”

Azzi grins before merging their lips together and everything else fades to the background, until she’s consumed by nothing but Paige. They break apart far quicker than either of them would like and Azzi expects to feel just a little bit of fear at what she’s just done, likely given the media a spectacle they could run a million and one stories about but instead, with her forehead still pressed against Paige’s, she feels nothing but calm.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi whispers and Paige’s eyes widen. They’ve known it for a while now but it’s the first time either of them have said it.

“Say it again,” Paige demands.

“I’m so in love with you,” Azzi says again, grinning so hard, she thinks it might become her permanent expression, “like really fucking in love with you.”

“I’m so in love with you,” Paige whispers, pulling Azzi into a bone-crushing hug.

And this might not be the moment where everything finally comes together. There’s still so much life left to live, so much that they still need to work through, so much they’ve yet to deal with. But for now, Azzi has a national championship and she has the love of her life, the rest will work itself out, or so she hopes.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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fallingdownhell · 1 year ago

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hi!! i really loved your reader drunk complimenting dumeru boys 😭❤️ i was wondering if you can make something similar but with diluc, xiao, thoma? you can add whoever else you want!

thank you in advance, if ever you come across this ask and accept my request! love your writing btw <3

Thank you so much!! I'm glad you enjoy my writing! And of course, I loved that request so much myself, glad to include some other characters in this now<3

Characters Included: Diluc; Xiao; Thoma

Content: gender neutral reader; drunk reader; established relationship; general fluffy content

Word count: 2k words

Imagine Reader's parts as drunken gibberish, I can't write that for the life of me xD

Diluc

Even though Diluc himself did not like drinking alcohol and rarely participated in it, he could understand your need for the occaisonal drink at his bar, especially when he noticed you approach after an particular stressful day at work.

He noticed your slumped way of walking, the sour expression on your face as you approached the bar at Angel's Share. Without a word, he turned and prepared your favourite drink for you, placing it in front of you with an understanding nod.

You thanked him and almost downed the drink entirely in one go. So it was that bad, huh?

Like always, he wanted to keep an eye on you the entire time, to ensure you wouldn't drink too much, but something came up and he had to leave the bartending to Charles on his own.

As he emerged from his office within the Angel's Share again after two hours had passed, he was surprised and concerned when he did not see you sitting at the bar anymore.

Alarmed, he was about to dash over to Charles to question him about your whereabouts, but then a shout ripped through the tavern, a voice he would recognise anywhere.

He turned to the source of the noise and found you sitting at one of the many tables in the tavern, surrounded by other people who were heavily drunk and singing along with the bards... just like you were.

Diluc turned again to look at Charles, who only spared him one apologetic look before he tended to other customers again.

"DILUC!"

The shout of his name brought him to turn his attention back to your drunken self, as you tried approaching him on your stumbling and unsafe legs. He caught you under your arms as you were about to fall right in front of him, but this only made you giggle more.

"Where have you been? You missed out on SOOO much fun!", you laughed and giggled while talking, raising your glass to your lips again to drink even more. But Diluc caught your hand before you could do so, gently taking the glass from your grip.

"I think you've had enough for the night, darling."

"No! I'm pracitcally sober! See?". You tried convincing him, but you were basically stumbling while only staying in one spot, so it wasn't exactly successful.

"Come on, it's time to get you to bed.", he said as he then gently picked you up, one hand supporting your upper body while his other arm was holding you under your legs.

You let out a surprised noise at the sudden motion, but soon started giggling again, wrapping your arms around his neck as Diluc carried you out the tavern and began the walk back to his mansion.

It was late at night already, but that didn't stop you from talking the entire time, commenting either about the time of day or what you were seeing upon your travels.

"WOW, did you see the shape of that bush?!"

"Has that flower always been there? ...Why is it staring at me?"

Diluc couldn't help but smile at your crazy talk. He wished he could see what you were seeing right now, but it's best if he didn't.

This carried on for a while, him carrying you like this while you commented on absolutely everything without pause, until suddenly, you slapped your hands against his cheeks, holding his face like that and making him look at you.

Surprised, he stopped walking, looking at you questioningly as you were practically staring him in the eyes, not saying anything.

"...What?", he asked after a few seconds of silence as you began squinting your eyes together.

"You have such a pretty face, you know that?", you suddenly said, before giggling again, letting go of Diluc's face again and hiding your own against his chest.

Meanwhile, Diluc had combusted into all the different shades of red at your compliment. His brain stopped working for a second at the unsuspected praise of his appearance.

When he tried nudging you, he noticed that you'd finally fallen asleep in his arms, looking peacefully unaware. Diluc sighed, placing a soft kiss to the top of your head, whispering "Sweet dreams" into your ear as he carried on his way, holding you tightly against his chest.

He knew you would feel the full force of your drinking tomorrow morning, but he would be there as well, to help and comfort you through it.

Xiao

He was still not too familiar with the customs of the humans, so he didn't think too much of it when you told him that you were going out for a few drinks with your friends.

He just nooded and wished you a good night with them while he would focus on his duties for the time you were going to be apart. Never would he have thought it would end like this..

The night has already progressed quite far, but there were still no signs of you coming back. And Xiao was slowly starting to get worried.

He hasn't heard anything from you at all. Normally, you would call his name and he would accompany you back home, to make sure you would arrive safe and sound.

But never before did it take you this long, you usually never stayed out this late.

So the fact that it happened now, made his mind spin with worry and a hundred different scenarios on what could have happened to you while he wasn't there to protect you.

As his thoughts kept wandering and getting worse by the second, he suddenly heard you... your voice... calling his name..

He was confused for only a second because your voice didn't sound as paniced like he had imagined it would, but that was quickly shoved to the back of his mind as he teleported to you.

To his surprise, he stood in the middle of a very crowded place, people all around him and shouting and singing very loudly with each other. Is this what you called a "tavern" earlier?

Xiao then looked around and spotted you not too long after. You were standing with your back turned to him, so he approached you, wanting to know why you called for him.

As he came closer, he noticed you standing with your group of friends. The closer he got, the better he began to understand what you were talking about.

"... so handsome! And his hair! Oh my god, his hair! It's so fluffly! Like, you wouldn't think it, but it's so..."

You were rambling, your friends laughing at your drunken monologue about your boyfriend, which made you pout.

"Hey! Don't laugh at me! It's true, Xiao is very handsome and loveable!"

Xiao froze in his tracks over hearing you say that. Was that why you called his name? Because you were gushing to your friends about him?

"Yeah, yeah, we know, (Name).", your friends were laughing and giggling even more at your pouting, to which you then decided to turn around to get another drink from the bar. Although those plans of your were long forgotten as you recognized the face of your boyfriend in the crowd.

"XIAO!", you screamed, a huge grin appearing on your face as you immediately ran towards him, startling the poor Adeptus even more. He was unsure how to react in this situation, but you just took care of that for him.

Jumping up into his arms, hugging your arms around his neck, you giggled as you burried your face into his neck. "What are you doing here?", you asked him after a minute, only now realizing how strange his presence here was.

"You.. called my name.", Xiao explained, a bit awkward since your friends were watching you two and he did not know how to handle you right now. You were acting so different than usual..

"I did? Really.. I don't remember..", you pondered, but moments later, it was already forgotten again as you hugged him again, giggling like a madman, continuing to mumble "Xiao.. Xiao.. my Xiao..", while you did so.

Xiao was blushing like crazy, and the best thing he knew to do right now was to escape this situation as soon as possible.

"I'll be taking her home now.", he said directed to your friends. Then, placing an arm around your back, he teleported you and himself back to his room at Wangshuu Inn, were he laid you down on the bed.

He would let you rest for now, but there were a lot of questions he needed you to answer tomorrow morning..

Thoma

Thoma himself did not drink often, but he also never stopped you from doing so, knowing that you liked to go out from time to time to have fun this way. And he always took care of you when you had a terrible hangover the next day.

You always felt guilty about it and he would tell you that he didn't mind it a bit, but it didn't help your conscious at all. Still, the next best opportunity you got, you would do it again.

It became somewhat of a routine that Thoma would look after you when you overdid it with the drinking again.

Like today...

It was only supposed to be two or three drinks with some friends at a bar, but it escalated when a certain Oni came into the picture, challenging you to a drinking game which you could not turn down.

Thoma tried his best in talking you out of it, but your pride got the better of you. And now, you were horribly drunk, your head resting on the bar counter as you giggled and laughed at absolutely nothing.

Your friends and other spectators were laughing at you, as well as the drunk Oni next to you, while Thoma was shaking his head. He did feel pity for you, because the hangover would be gruesome, but on the other hand, he did warn you and you refused to listen to him. It was your own fault...

Deciding that enough was enough, he went over to you, gently patting your back.

"Come on, (Name). It's time to go home now.", he said as he took one of your arms to place it over his shoulder, while his other arms wrapped around your back so he could help you walk better.

You were barely conscious at this point, only unintelligable noises leaving your lips, interrupted by the occaisonal giggle or laughter.

The people made room for the two of you as Thoma helped you to get outside, the fresh air hitting your face and you soon felt like you became a bit more clear in the head again.

Suddenly realizing that you were walking, you looked at the figure next to you through squinted eyes. You didn't recognize much, other than the fact that whoever that was, they were looking rather handsome..

"Heeyy.. you come here often?", you asked, the words managed to come out after a few attempts. The person next to you was silent for a few seconds, then you heard a chuckle from them.

"You could say that, yes.", they answered you, which satisfied you for now. You nodded, walking in silence for a bit, until a new realization hit you.

"Wait.. where are we going?"

"I'm taking you home. You had a bit too much to drink, (Name)."

You only nodded again, letting this strange person walk you back to your home without further resistance. Maybe, if you were more sober, you would have realized the hidden dangers in this if the person next to you would have been anyone else..

As soon as you were through the door of your home and your head hit your soft pillow, your lights went out instantly and you were snoring softly, sleeping like a rock.

With a sigh, but also a fond smile on his lips, Thoma looked at you and shook his head as he made sure to pull the blankets over your body, before he left for now to gather a few herbs and medicine to help your recovery later...

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