#imagine being Ez in that moment

[klamv-art]

🪷|| First date ||🪷

Just a wip but she looks so fucking good it would be a crime not to post it right now.

Just wanted to draw her with the outfit she would wear to Ezarel's and Victoria's first date. They went to the beach to spend the afternoon together, the original plan was for the date to be a couple of hour but ended up lasting almost until midnight.

[mothandpidgeon]

Nine Lives (witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader) - Part 4

Moth's Masterlist // follow @mothandpidgeon-updates and turn on notifications to stay updated with my fics!

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: witch's familiar!Ezra x witch!f!reader

rating: E MDNI

summary: As you came into your powers and your curves filled in, Ezra realized he feelings for you were more than just affection. The only problem? He's a 300 year old crused witch. Oh, and he's a cat.

contents: age gap (like 300 years), nudity, alcohol, only one bed, masturbation, moth never uses y/n.

wc: 7.1k

a/n: Hello again, my friends. This chapter took much, MUCH longer than I expected and also much longer. It probably would have been a lot faster had i not been encouraged to add some smut you know who you are. There are at least 3 more parts to this story. Thank you for being on this journey!

Big thank you to @lowlights and @schnarfer for advice on this and to @moonlitbirdie for betaing and loving me unconditionally.

🐈‍⬛

He’s having that dream again. The one where he’s human and you’re holding him, lips against his shoulderblade, fingers stroking the coarse hairs low on his belly. He’d live in these dreams if he could.

After the disappointment of the night before, Ezra revels in it, even if this is fleeting. 

He should never have gotten his hopes up. It wasn’t just the risk to consider but the complexity of the spell. You’re not a child but as witches go, your powers are still young. And, with his last minute decision, the two of you bodged together the potion in less than a day. The chances that it would have been successful were so slim, he’d been a fool to believe that you could pull off such a feat. He’d been caught up in the moment, your unfailing belief in him, the tantalizing question what if…

At least he has his dreams. Half awake, Ezra reminds himself that had the spell had worked, he wouldn’t be laying naked in your arms. There’s no knowing how things would change if he did. 

Sinking into the sweetness of the dream, he can’t help but roll over and bury his face in your neck, purring against your pulse. Instead of being met with your mouth, your hands searching for more of him, you scream. 

It’s enough not only to wake him but startle him out of the bed. What would normally be a swift leap off of the mattress, landing on his feet, is an inelegant tumble to the floor, knocking his head and pulling the sheets off with him. You’re actually shrieking. It’s not just some figment of his imagination. A string of creative expletives leave you as Ezra tries to untangle himself from the covers. When he finally rights himself, his heart beating like a rabbit, he finds you pressed against the headboard with a look of terror on your face. 

“What the fuck! What the fuck!” you shout, your heels digging in the mattress as you scoot away from him. 

“Easy! It’s me, little mage! It’s me!” he says, breathless. 

Your eyes somehow manage to grow even wider. 

“Ezra?” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “It worked.”

His head is spinning so quickly that your words take a moment to sink in. Another is spent in disbelief as he look down at his hands, outstretched in submission. Ten fingers. There are legs snarled in the bedsheets not covered in black fur but with wiry hairs. 

Ezra touches his nose, still bent from where he broke it in his youth. He feels the divot of the scar on his cheek, the whiskers on his upper lip. All as he was. 

He stares, speechless for once in his life. 

“Ez, it fucking worked!” you cry, tumbling across the bed and diving over the side. 

You clasp your hands on either side of his face, your eyes wild with delight, and your laughter is a mix of joy and relief. He joins you, it’s contagious, laughing and gripping into your shoulders. If he didn’t feel your palms against his cheeks, he’d think this was still a dream. 

Luckily he has the presence of mind not to plant a kiss on your mouth though with the amount of glee bouncing between the two of you, he doubts you’d protest. 

“We did it!” you say. 

“You did it,” Ezra corrects, marveling at you. 

You amaze him more each day. Not only did you do some incredible and complex magic but you foresaw it all. Beautiful, clever, talented. And now you’ve given him his greatest gift. He’s human once more. 

Your eyes dance across his face in turn, taking in the new details

“It’s really you,” you say. 

You stroke at his face with your thumb. It’s a light touch but to Ezra, the sensation is so powerful he’s afraid he’ll shatter into a thousand pieces. 

You smile softly and reach for his hair. “Your patch,” you say, twisting the white strands out of his forehead. 

“Oh, Ez!” you exclaim.  

Overwhelmed by it all, a dam bursts. Tears are slipping down his face without him even knowing. Centuries of them finally making their escape. 

You lean in, press your forehead against his as you have so many times before yet it’s so new. The bridge of your nose brushes against his, your lips hover so close he can feel your breath. You stroke behind his ear, fingers in his hair, a sensation that’s familiar, grounding. 

He’s so grateful for you, for your faith in him. 

You sniffle and he realizes that you’re just as emotional. Your cheeks glisten with tears when you pull away, still shaking your head in disbelief. 

“Thank you,” Ezra says. Chokes. He’s never done this properly though he’s tried to show it. It’s too difficult to put into words, even for someone as verbose as he is. He’s grateful with a depth he can’t find words for though he’s always considered himself a master of them. 

Tears well in your eyes again but these aren’t like the joyful ones you just shed. Your lips quiver. Ezra catches one as it slides down your cheek with his fingertips. He’s watched you cry so many times and he’s always wanted to do that. 

You throw your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace. It feels better than he’s ever imagined. You fit in his arms so perfectly, he could hold you for a thousand years. He inhales your scent, familiar to him but different now. His senses have dulled but drawn close, he loses himself in it. 

“Ezra,” you say after a long moment. “I just realized. You’re totally naked right now.”

Perhaps he should be embarrassed, worried that this is your first glimpse of him and you’ve seen all that there is to see. But he couldn’t care less. 

The two of you descend into giggles. 

—

“This is how I’m to make my debut in the world?” Ezra asks, stepping out of your bedroom.

He’s wearing the clothes you picked out for him, all that you could find that would encompass his broad frame. Your sweatpants are cinched tight around his slim waist, ending far above his ankles. Below that, his toes overhang the edge of your old flip flops. The outfit is finished with a big sweatshirt you bought several Halloweens ago– the words Witch, please emblazoned on the front in a cutesy font.

A startled snort leaves you and he scowls.

“I’m sorry,” you say, covering your smile with both hands. “You look–”

“Like a buffoon,” he says.

“Like you need to go shopping,” you correct.

You wait for Ezra outside of the dressing room, your back pressed against the door. The very first stop outside of the confines of your apartment is the local department store to get him something normal to wear. Ezra’s an oddity, everything from the way he speaks to his awkwardness adjusting to walking on two legs make him stick out. An ironic sweatshirt and sandals aren’t going to help him blend. 

The excitement is still buzzing through your veins. Every few minutes you want to open the changing room door and make sure that he’s still there, still human. A couple of times you even peek under the door just to see his feet haven’t turned back into paws. It’s really happening. You’re out in the world with Ezra. Ezra the human, a man. You changed him yourself, just as your dream had predicted, but you’re less fixated on the feat of magic and more on what he’s transformed into.

Ezra’s not at all who you were expecting under the fur. He’s remarkably handsome. Tall and broad shouldered. A strong nose accentuated by a dark mustache. His mouth is almost always set in a pout, full bottom lip turned out, jaw dotted with stubble. 

He’s not entirely unrecognizable. There’s something about the mirth in his smile that feels familiar, a slyness in his eye. 

Still It’s hard to believe that this is your Ezra, the little cat that curled up in your lap, tiptoed behind you on the back of the couch. He’s all man, big enough to swallow you up in his embrace. If you were strangers, you’d be too intimidated to even look him in the eye.

You giggle to yourself at how ridiculous that thought is. He’s Ezra. Your best friend. It doesn’t matter what he looks like. And if you told him he was good looking he’d never shut up about it. 

“What’s so funny?” he asks from the other side of the door, his voice muffled as he brings a shirt over his head.

“Just thinking about how my sweats fit you,” you say.

“Breathe a word of that to a soul—“ he grumbles. 

“Are you done yet?”

He sighs and you hear the latch on the door and there he is again. It knocks the air out of your lungs to be face to face with him once again, with that new face. Ezra stares back at you. His eyes are nothing like those sharp, golden eyes you’ve known for so many years. They’re deep brown, big and round— funny enough, more like a puppy dog than a cat. 

Your gaze falls down onto the outfit he’s chosen.

”What happened here?” You ask. 

His shirt is only half buttoned leaving a large swath of that golden chest in view, a constellation of freckles dotting his neck clavicle. You noticed them when he was sprawled out on your bedroom floor, tried to keep your focus on those instead of letting your eyes wander too much. 

”I’m afraid I haven’t gained mastery over my thumbs yet,” he admits sheepishly. 

“Let me.” You try to hide your grin.

You work the buttons, careful not to let your knuckles brush his front. His warmth radiates through the thin cotton and you’re suddenly very aware of how close you’re standing. It shouldn’t be so tense. This is the same Ezra after all, the cat you snuggled to sleep every night. Nothing’s changed between you and yet it’s definitely not the same. You feel him watching you and you swear he’s holding his breath. He shifts uncomfortably. 

”Are you sure these trousers are right?” He asks finally, palms grazing the fronts of his jeans. “They’re exceedingly restrictive.”

”When’s the last time you wore pants?” You ask him.

“When you tried to put me in that ridiculous cowboy get up,” he reminds you. 

“You were so cute!” you laugh, remembering how he flopped down on the floor in protest. 

He scoffs. 

“Come see yourself,” you say, motioning towards the trio full length mirrors at the end of the hall of dressing rooms. 

Ezra’s a sight to behold in his new outfit. A crisp white shirt tucked into a pair of dark jeans. If you squint you can see the man he once was in one of those romantic billowy shirts. 

“Looks good,” you say. 

Ezra’s furrowed brow smooths and he catches your eye in the mirror with a bashful smile. 

“You have a dimple,” you say. 

You keep noticing new things about him as the day goes on. There’s a little bald patch in his beard, wrinkles around his eyes when he laughs. 

“I suppose I forgot,” he says, blushing. “Am I not what you expected?” 

If you didn’t know him better, you’d think he sounded nervous. 

“I don’t know,” you say. He’s not what you pictured yet he’s exactly right in every way. He’s better than you pictured. He looks like that. How could you expect he was existing in your presence all this time?

You remind yourself quickly how wrong it is to be thinking of Ezra that way. He’s the closest thing you have to a brother. How many nights did you stay up pouring your heart out to him about life? It’s just the novelty, you assure yourself. Once you get used to him, it’ll be different. 

“I guess I thought you’d look like Ichabod Crane,” you tease. 

“Hilarious.”

––

“You should go to the Grand Canyon,” you say. 

All night, you’ve been brainstorming a list for Ezra, all of the things he can finally do now that he’s turned. The two of you already crossed off the first thing— eat dinner at a fancy restaurant— and you’re working on the second item— drinks at the local watering hole. 

It’s a busy Saturday night but you worked some magic to get a cozy table. The place is rustic by design, the kind of bar invented for the Brooklyn transplants that are renovating barns into Air BnBs. 

It’s chock full of mortals but Ezra couldn’t care less if he were surrounded by the witch hunters of Salem, just being out and about with you feels like a thrill. 

“What about having a human body is necessary to visit the Grand Canyon?” Ezra asks.  

The more drinks you had in you, the more esoteric the ideas became. 

“I don’t know. You could hike?” you say. 

“I think I had the advantage with four legs. I’ll pass,” he says. 

“I guess you’re right,” you say. Then you point an excited finger at him. “Learn to drive!”

He tilts his head, considering it but you’re already onto the next one. 

“Dancing!” 

“I’m not sure I know how it’s done these days,” he says. He’d enjoyed dancing when he was human the first time, mainly because it gave him ample opportunity to touch and flirt.  

“I don’t know. You just move,” you tell him. “Come on. I’ll dance with you right now.” You reach your hand out for him across the table to show that you really mean it. 

Ezra’s seen you dance hundreds of times. At witches gatherings, of course, but many more times in the kitchen, wearing your pajamas and singing off key, you scooping him up and rocking him to the beat. You might not be a good dancer, he’s not one to judge, but he’s always loved watching your hips find a rhythm. 

He’s still unsteady on his feet with less than 24 hours on his new legs and yet he couldn’t care less if he looks a fool if it means he can dance with you. The two of you are sure to draw attention— no one else is dancing despite the fact that the music’s so loud he has to shout to be heard. That doesn’t bother him. Let these mortals see you with him for once. Let him pretend for a moment that you’re his. 

He takes your hand, his heart speeding up in anticipation of your body being close, when your face falls. Your gaze is somewhere past him and you pull out of his grasp. 

“Oh, fuck,” you say. 

Ezra looks over his shoulder to see a familiar face. A lanky guy carrying a guitar case stops in his tracks when he spies you. The last time Ezra saw this mortal he had his paws all over you. 

“Shit. I completely forgot. Connor’s playing a gig here tonight. He invited me,” you groan. 

This fuck. Ezra’s joyous mood is jolted by the memory of Connor slobbering over your neck, the sounds of the two of you on the couch that he tried desperately to block out, the jealousy that sickened him. Here was one of the mortals that had touched and tasted you in the way Ezra had only dreamed interrupting his first chance to truly be close to you. 

But his lips crack into a wicked smile as Connor’s face twists in disappointment. Ezra knows how it looks to him. You’re here at his show where he hoped to woo you with song and you’re cozied up to another man. How many times had Ezra himself been forced to endure such humiliation?

 “Hey,” you say with unconvincing friendliness, selling it by standing up to offer a hug when Connor finally works up the nerve to come by. 

He keeps a wary eye on Ezra who in turn sits up straighter, chest out. He makes himself larger the same way he would passing one of the strays in the graveyard. It’s been hard to adjust to his new body, constantly bumping into things because he’s bigger, off balance without a tail. But right now, he couldn’t be more pleased with his new form. 

“Who’s your friend?” Connor asks without exchanging any pleasantries. He’s not masking his annoyance very well. 

���Oh. This is—“

“Ezra,” Ezra offers. 

“Hey,” Connor says dismissively. 

“He’s a friend of mine,” you add quickly. “Wanted to tag along to your show.”

“I hear you’re quite the talent,” he says. 

There’s a twitch in Connor’s brow as you kick Ezra under the table. 

“I guess you need to go set up,” you encourage, so ready to be rid of him. 

Ezra has other plans. 

“You must have time for a drink first. What’ll it be?” He asks. He can feel your eyes on him, trying to figure out his ulterior motive. 

“IPA,” Connor answers after a moment’s hesitation. 

Ezra’s powers tingle as he waves over the waitress. 

Connor finds a chair and joins you at the little table. The beer sets his mind at ease as you bullshit about how Ezra is an old friend, trying to save this guy’s pride. It seems like he buys it. Like all mortals, he’s a bit dim. 

He’s ridiculous, too. Talks a lot without asking you questions. Thinks he’s terribly interesting when he’s no different from the other mortal men that have shared your bed.  

“Isn’t your cat’s name Ezra?” Connor finally realizes after droning on about David Bowie as if he were the one that heard an original pressing of Ziggy Stardust. 

You stutter for a moment but you don’t have to come up with an answer because Ezra chimes in.

“Now, what was it you were attempting to elucidate with regards to psychedelic rock?” Ezra asks. 

You stifle a laugh, choking down some of your drink to hide it. This time, beneath the table you’re pressing your knee into his. 

“Uh,” Connor says, trying to gather his thoughts. “Yeah.”

He clears his throat, runs a hand through his hair then reaches for his beer again. 

“Well a lot of people think it starts with The Beatles but actually,” Connor lifts his drink to his lips in a theatrical pause, taking a swig, but his expression contorts in confusion, then disgust. He spits the beer back into his glass and with it comes a spider, it’s spindly legs thrashing about wildly. “Ah! Fuck!” he sputters. 

In his fright, Connor’s arms flail cartoonishly. The glass flies from his grasp and hits the table top, spilling its contents in all directions. You cry out, jumping up to avoid getting a lap full of IPA. The spider spins in the slippery puddle, trying to scurry every which way. Connor tries to distance himself from the arachnid but he legs of his chair catch and he topples over backwards onto the floor.

All conversation dies away around you as the other patrons have turned to watch the chaotic scene– Connor’s feet pointed up towards the ceiling, the floor beneath the table pooling with spilled beer. Ezra sits cool as a cucumber, his side of the table miraculously dry.

”Careful there, Connor,” he says. “Just a pretty little spider.”

You shoot him a look and he shrugs innocently. Your eyes say behave but it’s contradicted by a budding smile. 

“You good?” you ask.

Connor lays there wincing, probably much more embarrassed than he is bruised. Ezra offers a hand to help him up, all friendly smiles. Connor scowls but he has no choice but to accept, letting himself be hoisted to his feet by the other man. The crowd loses interest as Connor dusts himself off. 

“What a tumult,” Ezra says with a laugh. He slaps Connor on the shoulder so hard that he stumbles forward.

The waitress comes over with a bar rag and a judgemental look. 

“Did you hurt yourself?” You ask.

”I’m fine,” Connor answers a little too quickly. He flattens his ruffled hair. “Listen, maybe I should just go warm up.” He motions towards the little platform that serves as the stage.

”A wise idea,” Ezra says and Connor darts away.

”You’re bad,” you say but you’re practically bursting with laughter.

Ezra considers continuing his mischief while Connor’s performing— make him play the wrong notes or break a guitar string— but he doesn’t have to. Connor’s eyes keep finding you as he sings his whiney little songs and each time, Ezra’s right there. Leaning in close to talk to you over the music, making little quips that have you close to spitting out your drink. Right now, you couldn’t care less about this mortal, busy trying to convince Ezra that karaoke should be added to his adventure list. 

“Let’s go,” you say after draining your glass. 

“But your friend’s not done,” he teases. 

“I think we’ve heard enough,” you say. 

You offer Connor a sad little wave as you get up from the table, taking Ezra’s hand in yours to lead him through the throng of people crowding the bar. 

He watches Connor’s face fall as his eyes follow you to the exit. It’s a silly little revenge but to Ezra it’s delicious, a comeuppance for every mortal that’s been in your bed. Maybe Connor thinks you’re taking Ezra home to do the same to him. Good. It’s so delightful that Ezra doesn’t even care that it isn’t true.

––

“What have I unleashed on the world?” you ask with laughter, crossing the threshold of your apartment.

“I have no idea to what you are referring,” Ezra says but there’s a smirk on his lips. 

“You’ve gone from hairballs in shoes to public humiliation.” You should be more sympathetic to poor Connor but you can’t stop giggling. Every time you recall the sight of him flying backwards, flapping his arms, you’re in stitches again.

“Just a little harmless magic to warm up my powers,” he replies. “Not to worry, little mage, I’m sure he’ll still be more than happy to accept a booty call.” 

You shake your head. Between the awful conversation, the spew of spider, and the wailing of his songs, you have no interest in revisiting things with Connor.

In the kitchen you pour two glasses of water, adding a few drops of a tincture you keep handy for hangovers. You’re still a little tipsy, will probably wake up with a headache in the morning, but you don’t care. You can’t remember the last time you had so much fun with another witch. Not that it should surprise you. It’s Ezra after all.

”You know, you can’t fuck with these mortals too much. You do that to the wrong guy and they’ll start hunting us again,” you warn. You hand Ezra one of the glasses and flop down on the couch beside him. 

“But it’s alright to toy with their emotions?” Ezra retorts. “How many hearts have you broken?”

You scoff in mock offense but you know he’s right. You’ve never let yourself get attached to any mortals. Somewhere, deep down, you knew you’d never have a serious relationship with one of them so there was no fear of falling in love, no worry about their feelings, no risk of getting hurt.

Now that you’ve stopped moving, fatigue sets in. You rest your head on Ezra’s shoulder. You’re starting to get used to the fact that you can actually do that but it hasn’t gotten old yet. An absent grin plays on your lips. 

“Did you have a good first human day?” you ask. 

You feel his chuckle under your cheek. 

“I did indeed,” he says. 

Your smile widens. Ezra’s arm wraps around your shoulders, his fingers gently grazing circles over your sleeve, and you nuzzle further into his chest. 

“Thank you, little mage,” he says. 

”Mm,” is all you manage.

Your heavy eyelids begin to drift closed. It’s so cozy, you imagine yourself as a little cat in Ezra’s arms. You wonder if this is how it felt for him, cuddled in your lap, getting scritches under his chin, and you swear you’re purring. No, you’ve fallen asleep and started snoring. 

You force yourself awake with a groan. Ezra’s sitting contentedly beside you, watching you shift and stretch.

“I’ve got to sleep,” you yawn and manage to drag yourself onto your feet. 

Ezra doesn’t move, just nods and says, “Good night.”

“Are you staying up?” you ask. He must be exhausted after such a roller coaster of a day. 

“I think I’ll sleep here,” he tells you. 

You falter just outside of your bedroom. 

“You don’t have to,” you say. 

“I should,” he says. 

“Oh. Okay.” You’re not sure why it hurts. “Well, then you take the bed. I'll sleep out here,” you offer. 

“It’s your bed,” he says. 

A pang of guilt punches you in the gut. How many times had you reminded him of that?

“It’s alright. I’ve slept here on numerous occasions,” he assures you. 

You linger for a moment, trying to come up with some good reason why he shouldn’t stay on the couch. It shouldn’t be important to you. He might want his own space, some privacy after all these years, yet it feels like you’re losing something. 

“Let me get some sheets—“

“I know where the linens are,” he says. Obviously. He lives here too. 

Eventually you have to stop standing there like a weirdo and go to the bedroom. Door open or closed? You leave it somewhere in between. 

“G’night,” you say. 

You lay in bed listening to Ezra in the linen closet, then shucking his jeans and settling on the sofa. Suddenly you’re wide awake and sober as a judge, ruminating on what this means for the future. The two of you can only slip further and further away. He wants his own place to sleep, he’ll want his own place to live. It’s only natural. He’s not yours anymore. That’s what you wanted, wasn’t it?

You roll over, pulling the covers up to your ears. Then off. You punch your pillow into shape. You strain your ears, listening for Ezra's breathing in the next room. Is he sleeping? You lean off the side of your bed, peering into the darkness and do your best to make out his form in the shadows. 

Soon Ezra will have his own life, his own friends. He’s always been his own person. At least that’s what you’ve always said. How long have you been deluding yourself?

You shift again, grabbing your pillow and squeezing it in your arms to mimic his cat’s body. No luck. Nothing’s the same as Ezra. The occasions when you’ve fallen asleep without him clutched to you have been few and far between. Loneliness aches in your chest. This wasn’t something you’d thought through before you cast your spell. 

Finally you throw back the sheets and march into the living room.

Ezra lays on the little couch as best he can, bare to the waist clad only in the boxers you made him buy. One of his long legs is sprawled over the side of the couch, the other tucked under his body. His eyes are wide open, staring up at the ceiling, an arm folded beneath his head. 

“I can’t sleep,” you say.

“Likewise,” he says.

“This is ridiculous. Ez, you’ve always slept with me,” you complain.

“That was different,” he says, sitting up on an elbow.

“Well–” You want to tell him that nothing’s changed but it doesn’t really feel like the truth. Everything’s felt different today. You throw up your hands. “This is weird.”

He looks at you for a long time, the swell of his bottom lip turning into a deep frown.

“Just. Come on,” you say.

You leave the door open for him as you go back to your room and climb into bed. It’s his turn to hesitate, loitering in the doorway. Moonlight catches on the slope of his shoulder and the angle of his nose, glints in his unsure eyes. You sit with your arms crossed until finally he relents. 

It’s certainly not the same as it was to have your cat beside you. Ezra occupies a large part of your double bed but he leaves a wide swath of mattress between you, keeping his limbs close to his body. Your instincts tell you to reach out for him but you don’t want to overstep this new boundary. 

Despite the awkwardness, the delicate balance neither of you want to upset, feeling his warmth on the sheets, you’re finally able to breathe a sigh and sink into your pillow at last. His warm eyes gaze at you, giving you a long, slow blink.

“Better?” he asks. 

“Mhm,” you answer. 

And soon you’re both fast asleep. 

––

Ezra’s cock greets him in the morning like an old friend. 

He can feel your breasts warm against his back, your arm curled around his waist the same as always. Despite his efforts to keep his distance, you found each other in the night, sleeping the only way you know how. His body responded in kind.

This was what he feared, why he tried– briefly– to be good and sleep on the couch. Though to say that you’d twisted his arm was a lie. He’d given in far too quickly because he wanted you too much.

He can’t keep thinking about you like this if he wants to stay close to you, if he plans on surviving as a human. But all he wants to do is crawl down the bed, bury his face between your thighs, and make you his. 

Before he does something rash, he slips away from you. You’re fast asleep thanks to the drinks and the late night. As Ezra rolls off the mattress, you let out a complaint, a little whimper that goes straight to his groin. He freezes, cock aching, and watches you roll over. You’re beautiful bathed in morning light, the sheets laying gently across your curves. If only he could run his hand over their outline. 

His movements are not exactly cat-like as he creeps into the bathroom, the old wooden floors protesting with each step. As soon as the lock clicks he’s divesting himself of these ridiculous underthings. And there he is, that old menace. His length glistens with leaking precum, tip flushed red, begging to be touched. Ezra grips the base carefully but it still elicits a groan. He’s too sensitive— hundreds of years of pent up desire and a night beside you have him dizzy. 

He gives himself an experimental stroke and it’s like lightning. His knees buckle and he has to hold himself up with his palm against the back of the door. With a silent curse and a steadying breath, Ezra spits into his fist and goes again. Slow, gentle. He knows he won’t last but he’s afraid his new body won’t be able to take the rapture. It’s divine torture, his mind soon swimming in pleasure. 

Every dream he’s had, each time you danced under the moon or came out of the shower skin beaded with water, it all rushes past his eyes a cacophony of obscenities. Thank the stars you can’t see him like this, more animalistic than when he was one. Repulsive. Fucking his fist as he thinks of you, the only witch that’s ever cared for him. Defiling you in his mind. 

He promises his guilty conscience that he’ll never do this again. He just needs it this once as his muscles strain and tighten. It’s bliss and agony all at once and he’s so close to breaking, he can hardly bear it.

“Ezra?” he hears you from the bedroom. Your voice is still rough and husky from sleep and it’s more than enough to push him over the edge. 

His head falls back, eyes squeezed shut, and he chokes down the growl that’s erupted from his chest. His hips jump and his hand is coated in hot release. 

“Ez?” you call out. 

Ezra swallows dryly, inhales as deeply as he can manage. 

“Just a moment,” he manages to croak out as his forehead comes to rest against the cool wood of the bathroom door. 

“Oh,” you say with relief. “You weren’t there. I thought-— I was afraid maybe the spell went wrong.”

“Not to worry, little mage,” he says. “I’m still under your spell.”

—

The two of you spend the day in the basement, doing magic together. Ezra shows off the spells that were something of a specialty for him. Mostly, they’re party tricks. (“This one used to send the mortals frothing,” he says as he changes a glass of water into wine.)

The only blemish on an otherwise perfect day came when you offered helpfully, “You know, if we can clean out the spare room down here, you could have a place of your own.”

It stung though Ezra knew you would expect him to leave the nest eventually. Maybe you’d heard what he’d been doing behind the bathroom door and were hinting he find somewhere else to abuse himself.

It feels good to be doing magic again, even better to share with you. He’s a little rusty, working a muscle that’s been comatose for years. You don’t seem to mind. You’re impressed, just as giddy as he is,  though you’re not amused when he turns a bowl of pasta noodles into worms.

“If you ever do that to me, I’ll turn you back,” you swear.

You’re particularly fascinated with a piece of magic Ezra shows you where he ignites a flame in his hand. 

“Show me again,” you say.

He strikes his thumb against his fingertips as though they were flint on steel and the fire sparks. You watch with a furrowed brow, rehearsing the motion with your own hand.

“You can do it with a candle. It’s quite the same,” he explains. The flame glows orange, hovering in his palm until he snuffs it in his fist.

You hold your hand forward and mimic his motion to no avail. 

“It’s not a snap,” he says in reply to your frustrated groan. “Observe.” He demonstrates again, slower this time.

“That’s what I did,” you complain.

After a few more attempts you shake your head.

“I can’t do it.”

“You turned a cat into a man. This is well within your abilities,” he assures you.

You thrust your hand towards him. “Show me.”

“Very well,” he says. 

It’s not like your touch is new to him and still he swoons as he cups your hand in his. Maybe it’s because yours is so much smaller, almost delicate. It’s the intimacy of this moment, the magic, that has his heart hammering. Your powers vibrate beneath your skin, heating you from within.

You don’t have to stand so close but you slot yourself against him, your shoulders against his chest.

“Relax,” he whispers into the shell of your ear. He can’t help himself, resting his other hand on your hip. 

You take a deep breath and he marvels at how easily you unwind in his arms. If you turn towards him, your lips will brush.

”Focus,” he says as if his own head isn’t swimming.

You nod and Ezra guides your thumb across your fingers. 

The fire doesn’t just spark to life in your hand but it ignites as if it were fed by kerosene, flaring wildly. It burns so hot he can feel it radiating through your fingers. You let out a delighted squeal, your smile brighter than the flame itself. 

“Holy shit!” You turn to share your joy with Ezra, so close your noses touch as you move. You giggle. 

He can’t help but grin himself. You are truly amazing. 

It all shatters in an instant. You hear the jingle of the shop door above and the fire in your fist fizzles to ash. You freeze except for your eyes that grow wide with horror. Footsteps cross overhead, the floorboards creaking. The bookstore is closed just as it is every Halloween week. There are no customers coming in. There’s only one person that could be here. 

Ezra hears Margot call out your name and his stomach drops.

”Are you down there?” she says. She’s just at the top of the stairs where you left the door propped open.

”Uh huh,” you answer. You still haven’t moved an inch, just stand there dumbly.

You’d talked briefly about how the two of you would break the news to Aunt Margot but you hadn’t come to a decision. You still had time to figure it out and you were both so giddy that you couldn’t imagine a world where she was anything but delighted to see what he’d become. Suddenly it’s an incredible risk and neither of you are prepared.

“”I just kept thinking about you here all alone. I left as soon as I could,” she says. “Everybody was asking about–“ her eyes finally land on Ezra and she stiffens ”–you.”

“Aunt Margot–” you try.

Percy, who’s just peeked his head out of her breast pocket, lets out a squeal.

“What have you done?” she asks, her voice barely a whisper. 

He’s not sure how she knows– Margot is perceptive in ways neither you or Ezra could anticipate– but she doesn’t need to be told.  

She stares at the man before her and he’s brought back to the look on Cee’s face years upon years ago when he stood over Damon’s limp body.

It’s a punch in his gut delivered by himself long ago, it all slips away. The party is over, the jig is up. The past two days evaporate like one of his dreams. Those sweet mornings waking up beside you, the swell of your touch, the thought of a future. He’d really believed it could go on like that forever. 

You look as terrified as your aunt but you swallow it down and say, “I turned him back.”

“That’s not possible,” Margot says. 

“I’m afraid it is,” Ezra says. His words don’t hold any of their usual cool confidence. 

“Is this why you stayed home?”

“No—“ you try.  

“You lied to me,” Margot says. “And you had no right to do this.”

“We had no intention of doing this before you departed,” Ezra begins.

“The laws have changed,” you snap.  Ezra wraps his hand around yours, not sure if he’s protecting you or grounding you before you lose your cool. 

“Well, they’re still laws. And shame on you, Ezra, for letting her do that,” Margot snipes. 

“I talked him into it,” you say. 

“Oh, yes, I’m sure it took a lot of convincing,” she replies with an eye roll. “Have you lost your mind?” 

“It’s unjust what they did to him,” you argue. 

“He was convicted of killing another witch. I’m sorry, Ezra, but that is no petty crime.”

“That other witch was a child abuser!” you snap. 

Ezra clenches his jaw. You’re the only other person he’s told about Cee and now seems like an inopportune moment to start pouring out his guts. Margo’s sharp eyes look to him for confirmation, her frown softening with surprise.

”I make no excuse for my transgressions,” he says.

“You should turn yourself in to the elders before they find out on their own,” Margot says. 

”No,” you say. 

”She’s right,” Ezra says, his eyes cast to the floor. 

“No,” you say once more. ”Ezra served his time. And he should never have been such an inhumane punishment.”

Margot hears none of it, shaking her head with her eyes screwed shut.  “The elders will take your powers for this. Or worse. They’ll make you both into cats. And you did this all under my roof. Did you think this through at all?”

Reality sinks in the pit of Ezra’s stomach. He’s put you in danger but Margot too. She’s always been good to him, one of the few people he enjoys and he’s gotten her mixed up in a crime. 

”You weren’t even here,” you say, your voice wavering. Clearly the guilt is creeping through your veins as well. 

”Go upstairs, dear. I need to speak to Ezra alone,“ she demands. 

”No,” you say with indignation.

“It’s alright,” Ezra tells you.

You look between the two of them. Margot stares at him as if you’ve already left the room and you have no choice but to obey. 

Margot says nothing, shooting daggers at Ezra for an excruciating amount of time. At last, she puts her hand to her brow in exasperation and does her best to collect her emotions. 

”Let me get a look at you,” Margot says when she stands tall again. 

Ezra steps forward, presenting himself with a slight bow as he was accustomed to do. He has many years on her but he currently feels like a boy caught by the schoolmarm, about to get his knuckles rapped. 

She takes his hand, turns it over in her own, inspecting the magic you’ve done. Margot lets out an indignant scoff. 

“How did she do it?” Margot asks, her voice half suspicion, half wonder.

“A potion. A spell. It was by her own hand,” he explains. “She foresaw it in a dream.” 

Margot fingertips brush her lips, the whirl of thoughts racing through her mind plain on her face. 

“You know what kind of witch has the powers to cast a spell like that?” he asks.

Her answer is a nod and a sigh, her shoulders straightening. Still lost in thought, Ezra fills the silence with his plea.

“Margot, I have served your family for two centuries but I have never cared for another witch as deeply as I do your niece,” he admits. “I’m well aware that what we’ve done is bold and rash. Foolish, even. But I promise you that I will not let any harm come to her so long as I’m living.”

His heart beats so hard, he’s afraid it might leap from his chest.

Margot looks into his eyes and there’s a momentary prickle along his scalp. Her lips quirk and her expression softens and Ezra feels too vulnerable. He’s let her see too much of the truth. If he could, he’d climb out of his own skin. The moment passes as Margot masks her sympathy, raising her chin and crossing her arms in a way that reminds him of you.

“Fine. This isn’t an endorsement,” she says. “But you can tell her I’m not going to rat you out.”

“Thank you,” he says. He knows that he’s been given yet another gift he doesn’t deserve. Hopefully Margot can sense his gratitude as she did his conviction. He heads after you, towards the back door of the shop but is stopped by the sound of his name. Turning, he sees Margot with her keen eye on him.

“Be careful,” she warns.

He’s not sure what she’s referring to but he knows she’s right.

🐈‍⬛

Comments and reblogs appreciated! Asks always open! I'd love to hear from you!

[writerblue275]

Heartsteel Ezreal NSFW Alphabet (18+)

Inspiration: Listen...it's feral hours. Used the NSFW Alphabet template from @the-coldest-goodbye for this!

Champion: Heartsteel Ezreal

Genre: Headcanon

Type: NSFW AS FUCK. 18+ ONLY MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: As I said. Smut as hell. Also cursing because I curse. Mention of various kinks. Very small mention of weapons in general.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Clingy but in a sweet way. Definitely very cuddly. If Ezreal’s not exhausted, he’ll go get water and a snack for both of you. Otherwise you’ll probably be leading most aftercare activities.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him: A curveball, but his neck/throat. It’s extremely sensitive and so when you mark him there or nibble/nip, he really feels amazing.

On you: Your hands. Ez loves lacing his fingers with yours. He also loves feeling them tug on his hair and cover his mouth to keep him quiet.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Ezreal might be a little embarrassed to admit it, but he loves it when you make him finish on himself, like on his stomach. He adores how you kiss him and sweetly tease him about how much of a mess he made before you go get something to help clean him up.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ez has recorded himself while jacking off and listened back to it a few times. Mostly out of curiosity.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

(Oooooh I’m going surprisingly back and forth on this)

Do I think Ezreal is the most experienced in Heartsteel? Absolutely not. But considering he’s in the early prime of his life, I’d imagine he has at least some experience. He definitely knows enough to know what he’s doing.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Oooh. Absolutely any position with you on top. Those positions drive Ezreal wild in the very best possible way. Especially if it’s a position where he can look up and watch you. He loves watching you take your pleasure.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on the context of the situation. Ez can certainly make you giggle and smile if the general vibe is on the playful or light-hearted side. Though he’s also incredibly earnest and sincere in his goal to pleasure you, and that can sometimes make him surprisingly serious if the vibe is more romantic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering Ez’s hair is GREEN…no the carpet does not match the damn drapes 😂. He’s blonde down there and he keeps things very tidy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ezreal can be romantic as fuck. Like if that’s what the mood calls for, he’s saying the most romantic things to you because he wants to really make sure you know how much he is head over heels for you. He’s lacing his hands with yours. He’s keeping eye contact because your expressions are the most attractive thing in the world to him. He’s saying “I love you” a LOT. Like he can make a moment really really intimate.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

If you can’t be there, like he’s on tour or something and he can’t call you, then yeah Ez will get things done himself. But it’s definitely not his preference. Not when you love him so well.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Hehe here we go: PRAISE. KINK. (Ezreal’s receiving love language is words of affirmation so it tracks.) Loves being tied up or blindfolded. Like a lot. Sensory play in general (like using ice cubes or candle wax). Can also see him being a fan of semi-public sex. Like dressing room before/after a show or something like that. So that could be classified as very very slight exhibitionism

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Generally Ez’s favorite location is at your place because then he can be louder and doesn’t have to hold back his reactions as much. But see above, he’s not opposed to semi-public places either.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

To be totally honest it doesn’t take much to get Ezreal going. Seeing you in a nice outfit or if he’s in close proximity to you are some things. And he definitely has a Pavlovian-esque response to any signature scent you wear (especially if it’s the same scent you wore the first time the two of you were intimate together).

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving weapons. He’d be too nervous he’d accidentally hurt you. And I can’t really see Ez using degrading language with you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Of course Ez loves to receive head from you, but this man lives to give you oral. He loves feeling your fingers tangle in and tug on his long hair. He loves listening to you praise him (because he’s very very talented with that mouth ot his). He loves being able to pleasure you in this way.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Again it really depends on the situation. If it’s a quickie backstage then the adrenaline is pumping and things are pretty fast and frantic. A super romantic date night? Definitely on the slow and sensual side. “Normal” day-to-day experiences are somewhere in the middle.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Big fan. The adrenaline rush from a quickie is something Ezreal enjoys. BUT he definitely also appreciates the moments where you two can take your time together and be thorough.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Ez is definitely down to try new things. Like obviously he has hard boundaries (such as no weapons) but anything that is within his hard boundaries he’s game to try.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Mmmmmm 2 rounds is the max like 95% of the time. Occasionally 3 if he’s really worked up. If it’s not a quickie then usually Ez lasts somewhere in the ballpark of 15 minutes per round, though usually that time gets shorter the more rounds he goes.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Oh ABSOLUTELY. Ez absolutely has toys and will use them on himself, though even more so, he appreciates when you use them on him. He is also happy to let you use whatever he has and will absolutely use them on you, especially in the rare moments he takes the lead.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

While I think in general Ezreal is extremely teasing, when it comes to the bedroom, he likes to be the one being teased, not the other way around. Go for it. Tease him. He might whimper or let out a soft noise of complaint at how unfair you’re being, but he actually really enjoys it. You have the evidence right in front of you. 😉

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

If you want/need him to be quiet, you’ll have to gag him with something. Ez is generally loud and it’s almost like he can’t help it. Moans, whimpers, whines, he does it all.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Ezreal is a big fan of phone/facetime sex. He loves hearing you guide him and he loves guiding you and visualizing/seeing what you’re doing. The fact he can still make you feel good even when he’s not physically with you is something he really likes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

5.5-6”-ish inches. Absolutely nothing to scoff at. Decently thick. What Ez has he definitely uses to both his advantage and yours (he’s got those dancer hips y’all…. 😏).

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Fairly high. As previously said, it really doesn’t take much to get Ezreal going.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends on how many rounds. One round? Ezreal will be up for a little bit afterwards and he’s cuddling you and being very sweet. More than one? Oh he’s basically out like a fucking light switch.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! This was very fun to do. Should I do these for the other Heartsteel members? I think I might need to. 😏💙

[angelismmm]

pairings. blade x gn!reader

synopsis. nsfw alphabet w blade gg ez, a-n only becuz im l-l-lazy....

a - aftercare (what are they like after the deed?)

blud lowkey don't give a shit about you if you aren't that close, lmao

but if you are, probably kind of clingy, and really caring. a lot of cuddling, don't tell me i'm wrong cuz i'm NOT.

in some cases, and instances, those.. 'activities' you both have do make him quite exhausted, and most of the time it really just ends with him showering you, cleaning you up, and just being in his embrace (more utc.)

b - body part (their fave body part, of themselves, and their partner's!)

probably for himself; would be his hands. just in general, plus he knows how well they treat you anyway! so why wouldn't it be his favorite? and for you, probably loves everything, doesn't know what he'd do without it, can't decide on one sole favorite, maybe your stomach and probably your neck!

c - cum (cum, anything to do with it)

will cum on your face, if not, he'll come inside, nothing in between.

i dont know how to elaborate here but um, the way his cum be sprayed all over ur face is just so mmmm to him. makes him hard all over again!

d - dirty secret (self explanatory)

not rly dirty, but wants to see you get a necklace with his name on it, or a collar with his name on it, and while he pounds so recklessly, he wants to see that pretty little pendant of his bouncing up and down on your neck, very fond of the idea, but never would actually say it to you, unless you really push him enough.

e - experience (has bro done the deed before?)

maybe? not that experienced probably, but has messed around with somebody before yes!

he knows what he's doing though, don't worry. but overall probably just did it once or twice, barely can call it sex

he probably read about sex before doing it with you, cause he wanted it to go perfectly.

f - favorite position (self explanatory pt2)

just as long as he can see your face, missionary, cowgirl, let it be anything, just as long as he can see how your face just gets so corrupted because of his big cock.

g - goofy (is bro serious about sex?)

very serious, it's almost funny, but it isn't, he's dedicated, and will show it.

but maybe when you both get closer, and are able to be more intimate with each other, in relationship wise, and etc., sure he'll laugh once or twice about a mistake he's done.

h - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

um, yes and no?? i don't really know, i can't rly tell, like maybe thrice a week sure, and the rest of the week he don't really care, it gets messy when you both fuck anyways. and yes, black hair, thats it, idk how to elaborate ab this LMAO

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

gets too embarassed. no he will not show his blushing face, even if he's already inside, probably takes like, a round or two before he does

kind of like, he'd giggle about it and go okay bae

but also would be the kind of guy to go, "i want to be the only man, the only person, in this whole galaxy, this whole universe, to make you feel like this."

j - jack off (master bait :D)

yes, very often, no other choice, i cant say otherwise. likes to imagine its you on that monster ahh cock instead of his hand, be real, he the type to do that. uses imagination wisely, and does it when you're away from him, on a mission, or whatever, needs you 24/7 tho

k - kink/s

degrading you like it's his life's purpose. loves you like it's the calm life he's been looking for since forever, but will degrade you, calls you slut, whore, made for his cock, and all that jazz.

oh but facesitting; super big fan, wants to just be in you, tongue up in your hole, while he just strokes his cock, just needs you to sit on his face so bad

be so fucking honest w me, he probably turned on by the idea of getting pegged, or getting anal. won't admit it out loud, but he wants to get treated like a prince. like just wants you to make him feel so good, that's it.

l - location

doesn't give a fuck if other people hear, will fuck you in an alleyway if he feels like it, or if you feel like it, in the public bathroom <3 but just way prefers being in bed with you, feels more romantic, and gives off more feeling to the moment, in his own opinion, will do whatever you're comfortable with.

n - no no

roleplay, anything related to it, it seriously grosses him out

non con, in general, he's disgusted by it, i know that for a fact.

don't degrade him please, he's heard, and been called all kinds of names before, and it's not like he ever liked them.

don't hurt him, it's clear in his skill he does hurt himself in the process</3, im sure he seriously just wants to love you, and wants it back, his degrading is to a small extent, and it's just in the heat of the moment thing!

[jelzorz]

152.

When Rayla says her parents, Ezran imagines a mom and a dad, or maybe mom and a mom, or a dad and a dad. He imagines they're people that look like her and sound like her, people who share her sense of humour and took care of Zym when he was an egg at the Storm Spire. He imagines people he would like.

He does not imagine that one of them is the elf that killed his father.

The thought by itself makes him mad. King Harrow was a good king, a just king, and a loving dad who was only doing his best. He didn't have to be assassinated. He didn't have to die. He shouldn't have died, and yeah, his dad did bad things too, but he recognised that, didn't he? His last letter to him and Callum told them that they were free, that they didn't have to continue on this stupid path and this stupid war, that their decisions were theirs and theirs alone. Rayla was fifteen when it all happened, still a child by most standards, raised to be an assassin and sent on a mission to kill him, and she still made the decision not to for a chance at peace. Runaan knew about the egg, they showed it to him and everything, and he still—

Ezran scowls.

It's a whole mess. It gives him feelings he doesn't want and anger he doesn't know what to do with. Rayla keeps the coins with her at all times, and there are moments he just wants to toss them into the ocean or melt them down into something else but how can he do that without hurting her? Without causing her the same pain Runaan caused him?

And when Callum had offered to help—

Ez doesn't like thinking about it. He'd been so angry. He said things he shouldn't have. He and Callum fought like they've never fought before, and at the end of it all...

He's sitting at the edge of a boardwalk now, feet dangling over the edge, the leather of his boots dark with water as he skims his toes over the surface of the sea. He's never hated someone like this before. He's never felt rage or sadness or grief so big.

"You okay?"

Ez sniffles and doesn't look up, even as Rayla drops into the spot next to him and leans her elbows on her knees.

"Fine," he mutters. "What—um—what's up?"

Rayla pauses, her lips pursed, her eyes searching and sad. She was there. She saw the fight. Ez feels like he should apologize but there's a part of him that doesn't want to. Why should he? Is it so wrong for him to hate the elf that killed his dad?

"You don't have to be fine," she says at last. "I know there isn't... really much I can say. Runaan... was like a dad to me but—"

"Don't excuse him," he snaps. His throat hurts. He curls his hands into fists. "Don't."

"I wasn't going to."

"Weren't you?" Ez scowls at her, his anger getting the better of him, growing bigger than he can control. "But what? But it wasn't his fault? But he was just following orders? You had the same orders and you didn't follow through. You were fifteen! You could have lost your hand! What the hell was his excuse?"

"Ezran..."

"Don't Ezran me! He killed my dad! And you and Callum want—" He stops. He swallows. He's crying again, he thinks, but he doesn't care. "I don't care that he was like a dad to you," he snarls. "He killed mine! He killed mine knowing that he didn't have to! And he gets to come out of the coin? He gets to live and my dad doesn't?"

"I'm sorry, Ez—"

"Stop it! Don't act like that means anything! Sorry's not going to bring him back!"

Rayla says nothing to that. She fiddles with her fingers, head bowed, her hair over her eyes, and in the pause, Ezran sees it—the shake in her shoulders, the tears on her cheeks. His anger falters. He hadn't meant—

"I'm sorry," he mutters at last, but Rayla shakes her head.

"You're allowed to be angry," she says. "You're right to be. Sometimes being angry is part of the grief." She sniffles. "I don't blame you for not wanting us to do it. I wouldn't want to, if I were you."

"But you're still going to."

Rayla doesn't answer.

Ezran looks away. The silence between them hurts, but he leans against her anyway, not because it's okay, but because she's basically his sister, and grief and anger and big feelings are easier when they're shared. Her arm curls around his back, a promise that she's there for him no matter what happens, no matter what he feels, and they sit together, and cry together, until it feels like there's nothing left.

"I wish things were different," whispers Rayla.

Ez sniffles. "Yeah," he mutters. "Me too."

[colonelpancakes]

Season Six Episode Five "Moonless Night" lets go! Given the fact that one of our protagonist’s is a MOONshadow elf, this title makes me worried. Like, I know it’s referring to the prophecy thing but still…

Skjsklf I love Rayla. She wants NO part of this ding dang prophecy business.

Hmm so Callum wants to know more about whatever Startouch magic item they could get for doing the quest. Interesting. I wonder if he’s still thinking about ways to defeat Aaravos? Since "from the heavens" does sound like it would have something to do with the Startouch elves, "beings from the heavens".

Stella’s little “just kiss already” look is killing me.

I love Soren checking in on Ez to see if he's okay is so sweet. I love his character development so much, going from considering killing Ezran to being a dedicated crownguard and making sure Ezran's okay.

Oh wedding?? That’s happening now?? Yay!

Surely nothing will go wrong, Ezran will have a nice relaxing break and Janai and Amaya will have a lovely stress-free wedding and nothing will go wrong and the fact that the episode after next is called "The Red Wedding" means nothi-

Ezran sidestepping actually saying Viren’s name and even Soren faltering a little bit before he says it. The impact he’s had on both their lives is so clear even in these little moments.

They’re so sweet they are going to melt my heart I love themm 🥹

Ohh... and Soren's upbeat demeanor vanishing as soon as he leaves Ezran's room because he knows Ezran needs the reassurance...

Fly caught in a spiderweb imagery how interesting…

Oughh poor Soren. And the voice acting is so good here. You can hear how much effort Soren is putting into keeping his voice steady and tough so he doesn’t give Viren any control over him again.

Rayla gives the exact same response as Sarai did in season two. The Ice Behemoth is already giving me huge Magma Titan vibes I really feel like killing it is the wrong move. And Rayla’s right, they don’t know anything about the behemoth or why its causing the storms. “Does it think? Does it feel? Does it have a family? […] Then is it the last of its kind?”.

Yeah, that’s something I was thinking about too. It’s interesting how Callum is the one so interested in this prophecy when before this point, he’s always been the most resistant to the idea of destiny, or the concept that there’s something you “have” to do and there’s no way around it. I wonder if there’s something else at play?

🥺🥺🥺 Rayla singing a lullaby???? Holding Stella like a baby???? My heart…

Viren, respectfully, please shut up.

I wonder if the reason Soren keeps coming down is because he needs to see for himself that Viren is still locked up so that it can be real for him? Like if he keeps checking on Viren that means he can see with his own eyes that he’s still there and isn’t escaping or hurting anyone, and it'd be hard to get that reassurance from a guard. It could also be that he feels some form of responsibility for Viren and doesn't feel right passing that to someone else. Idk maybe I'm totally off, but I could see that contributing.

"And that’s why I abandoned your sister on a beach."

Yes, including abandoning your daughter on a fucking beach. Viren. It’s good that you're acknowledging how much you’ve hurt Soren but please also acknowledge that you are in fact still actively fucking up in the parenting department.

Ohh. Soren… He’s finally hearing his father tell him the things he’s wanted to hear for so long, the things he’s had to figure out on his own. That the way he was treated was cruel and wrong. That he’s not lesser, or a bad person, or stupid or the things he’s been told aloud or otherwise for most of his life. That is father sees who he is and is proud of the man he’s become. But the last time he was down here with Viren, Viren told him that all of the awful things were in his head, that he was imagining them. That he was too stupid to understand Viren’s instructions and of COURSE his dad had never done anything wrong. He was literally gaslit and it has (understandably and rightly) absolutely destroyed his ability to ever trust Viren again. How could he when Viren lied to and manipulated him for his whole life? It’s too good to be true, so it must be a trick.

And then Soren getting angry, reaffirming that he knows who Viren is and what has happened and that it was real out loud so that Viren can’t gaslight him again, can’t convince him that nothing was wrong in the first place, can’t manipulate his point of view or taint the happiness that he’s finally found in the palace with Ez and Callum and Corvus and Opelli.

Oh, Soren…

On a much happier note, Stella holding Sneezles!!!!!!!!!!

sjaklffsjdkaljfd I love them so much. Callum, what are you doing?

Also, I noticed while screenshotting that Stella is still holding Sneezles and I just think that’s so cute.

Ooh interesting. I wonder what determines the prerequisites for a spell being cast. Like, what characteristics distinguish spells that need a physical element or a magic object from spells that can just be cast aloud with runes?

Yeah, I still don’t think that killing the behemoth is a good idea in the first place. This magma titan part two. Hopefully with a different ending this time.

Ohhhhhh I am imagining wet socks in that kind of weather and that sounds hellish. Hopefully the Celestial Elves have some spidersilk socks they can lend them.

Aww, Callum sheltering Rayla from the storm with his arms.

The behemoth’s heart even glows in the same way the magma titan’s did! Actually, how do we know this isn’t just an ice titan? Maybe titans aren't all humanoids, I mean we've only seen one type so far.

Okay I'm less than halfway through the episode and I've run out of images. Dang. Continued in reblogs

[lynnies-library]

Keeping Secrets | Kayn/Ezreal

Summary: Ezreal is hiding something from Kayn, and he's determined to figure it out.

A/N: I'm a little late, but this prompt is the day 19 prompt from august-anon's tickletober list! This one ended up being very self-indulgent and I will not apologize for it!!

Words: 3163

[read on ao3]

“Ugh, Ez! Quit doing that!”

“Huh? Doing what??”

Kayn crosses his arms in annoyance as he glares down at Ezreal’s phone next to him on the couch. The phone that was being used before Kayn walked in the room, and is now locked and face down. Ezreal’s face heats with a blush that he hopes to every single god isn't visible.

“I, uh-”

“Why are you hiding things from me?” As much as he tries to disguise it, Kayn’s voice gives away the sadness he feels. He’s so open about everything with Ezreal; he doesn’t have passwords on his devices and he tells him about everything, so why does he feel the need to hide stuff? He can’t even imagine what there is for Ez to hide. Unless… no, he wouldn’t cheat.

…right?

“Hey.”

Kayn is snapped from his quickly spiraling thoughts by Ezreal’s voice. He stands up, abandoning his phone in favor of wrapping his arms around Kayn’s waist.

“I’m sorry. I know it seems bad, but I promise I’m not hiding anything awful.”

Kayn pouts. He doesn’t want to not believe his boyfriend, but what other explanation is there? “Then why do you lock your phone every time I’m near it?”

“I…” There’s that heat in his cheeks again. Ezreal takes a breath to steady himself before continuing. “I’m sorry, I can’t tell you right now.”

Kayn’s pout is replaced with a scowl as he removes Ezreal’s hands from his body and turns away, much to his dismay.

“Hey, come on-”

“I trust you with things that I’ve never told anyone about, Ez. Why don’t you trust me like I trust you?”

“I do trust you!” The desperation in Ezreal’s voice makes Kayn turn back around to look at him. He’s red in the face and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt; probably one of those “grounding” things K’Sante told him about.

“I do trust you,” he repeats. “I do, I just… there’s something I’m embarrassed about. I’m not ready for you to know about it yet.”

Kayn gives Ezreal a once over before sighing. He’s obviously nervous about something with the way he’s grabbing at his shirt. Maybe flustered, judging by his still reddening face. He rolls his eyes and opens his arms.

“Come here before you rip your damn shirt.”

Ezreal wastes no time accepting Kayn’s peace offering; his arms return to their rightful place around Kayn’s waist as he nuzzles his face into his chest. He feels a soft kiss on the top of his head, telling him that everything’s okay.

“I get it. Take your time telling me whatever it is.”

Ez looks up at him with wide, slightly teary eyes. “So you still love me?”

Kayn barks a laugh and rolls his eyes fondly.

“Yes, stupid. I still love you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“That was such a bad movie.”

Ezreal’s giggles fill the air as Kayn expresses his disdain for the movie the pair had just watched.

“Well, duh! Did you seriously think a movie about sharks and tornadoes would be any good?”

“I thought it had the potential to be good until the sharks were in the tornadoes-”

Kayn’s critique is interrupted by Ez’s phone ringing. He catches a glimpse of a picture of an angry Yone whose face is covered in whipped cream before Ezreal answers the call.

“Hey, what’s up, Yone?” Ezreal’s face goes from giddy to horrorstriken in a matter of seconds. “Oh… oh god. I’m coming down right now.”

He hangs up the phone and tosses it onto the couch.

“Aphelios is throwing up downstairs and Sett is having a meltdown about it. Yone’s helping Phel, and I’m gonna take Sett to our room to calm him down.” He kisses Kayn’s cheek before running off, making sure to call out “I’ll be right back!”

Kayn chuckles at the randomness of the situation as he glances down at the glowing screen of Ezreal’s phone.

The screen. Ezreal’s phone. Glowing.

He forgot to lock it. 

He stares for a moment, trying to figure out if he’s about to make himself the worst boyfriend ever or not. Ez is hiding something on there. Something he’s embarrassed to tell Kayn about. Something he’s not ready for him to know.

He won't have to get ready if he just takes a peek… 

Kayn shakes his head to clear it. No, he can’t do that to Ezreal. That would be a breach of trust. Kayn prides himself in being a trustworthy man, and he will not go behind his boyfriend’s back and-

The screen dims. 

All of Kayn’s morals go out of the window as he swipes the phone from its spot on the couch, tapping the screen once to keep it awake. He glances at the staircase, taking a moment to listen. He can hear retching from one room and Sett’s fast breaths and choked sobs from the next, along with Ezreal’s voice attempting to soothe him. Poor Sett, Kayn thinks. Emetophobia must be a bitch. 

He looks back down at the phone, and apologizes to whatever deity is watching him. He opens the gallery app, wondering if whatever he’s hiding is in the form of pictures. He doesn’t find anything unusual right off the bat; he opens the recent album and sees tons of upsettingly cute selfies, some screenshots of various things, pictures of dogs, pictures of the two of them cuddled up together, and a hilarious picture of Ez flipping off Yone while his back was turned. Everything there is pretty much exactly what anyone would expect from Ezreal. Kayn goes back to the initial gallery screen and scrolls down, wondering if there’s anything there. All he finds is a breakdown of media types: videos, live photos, screenshots, screen recordings, yadda yadda…

Wait… hidden? 

He doesn’t even take a second to contemplate before tapping on the hidden album. Thankfully it doesn’t require a password or a fingerprint to open. He’s not sure what to make of what he finds at first; there’s a bunch of art of characters from shows that Kayn only recognizes because of Ezreal. After scrolling through a few of them, he starts to notice a common factor among them all.

All of these characters are being… tickled? 

Kayn only grows more confused as he scrolls through the album. Every single picture in it involves at least one character getting tickled. Lots of big smiles and tears of mirth and “ha ha ha’s” everywhere.

What’s going on here? 

Kayn’s head snaps up at the sound of the toilet flushing. He can’t hear any more retching or hyperventilating. Ezreal will be back any second.

He swipes the gallery app closed before locking the phone and putting it back right where he found it on the couch. Not knowing what else to do, he slumps over and feigns sleep as he waits for Ezreal to return. Thoughts swirl in his head in the meantime; Why does Ez have so many tickling pictures? Why are they in a hidden album? Did he not want me to see the pictures? Or is this just the tip of the iceberg? 

Ezreal’s surprisingly heavy footsteps start to climb the stairs and Kayn tries desperately to shut his brain up, as if that would make him appear more asleep.

“Hey, Sett’s okay, and so is Phel- Kayn?” Ezreal stops talking when he sees Kayn “asleep” on the couch. He raises an eyebrow and goes straight for his phone. He opens it, checks something, then sighs and pockets it. He picks up one of the nearby throw pillows and gently smacks Kayn in the face with it.

“AH!” Kayn startles, not expecting to be hit in the face. “What the fuck was that for??”

Ezreal giggles, tossing the pillow away before Kayn gets any ideas to retaliate. “Why were you sleeping? Are you still tired?”

Kayn gives a hopefully convincing stretch before replying. “I guess the sounds of puking and crying lulled me to sleep. What made Phel sick anyway?”

“No idea.” Ezreal sits on the couch, and Kayn is thankful he accepted the change in topic. “Yone said he wouldn’t say. I guess it’s hard to sign when you’re vomiting.”

“How’s Sett?”

“Still worked up, but better now. He felt bad for freaking out, but I think I talked some sense into him. He can’t help his phobia.”

Kayn nods in agreement and the conversation lulls. Before the topic can return back to Kayn’s impromptu slumber on the couch, he knocks his knees into Ezreal’s. “Wanna watch another shitty movie?”

Ezreal smiles excitedly and nods his head. “Ooh, I have one you’re gonna hate! Two words: Sparkly. Vampires.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The guilt eats away at him. He really is the worst boyfriend ever.

To make up for it, Kayn has been doting on Ezreal for the past week. He’s bought him new clothes, more plushies for his collection, he’s been doing all of his house chores, and he’s even forced K’Sante to make Ez’s favorite breakfast and then fuck off so he could take the credit. It isn’t until Kayn tries to talk Yone into lending him some cash to go buy another gift that Ezreal speaks up.

“Kayn, what’s going on with you?”

Kayn looks towards Ezreal, and Yone slips out of the room while he has the chance, grumbling as he goes.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve been, like, really nice to me. Not that you’re not usually nice! But… this is kinda too nice.” Ezreal notices the dejected look on his face. “What’s the matter?”

Kayn sighs, his mood noticeably dropping low. “I’m sorry, Ez…”

“Sorry for what?”

“I went through your phone last week. You left it unlocked and I snooped.” He winces when he sees Ezreal’s body stiffen. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I was curious about what you were hiding, but that doesn’t excuse it. I’m really sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.”

Kayn looks up incredulously. “But I invaded your privacy, I went through your- mmph !”

Ezreal suddenly covers Kayn’s mouth with both of his hands. He’s trembling slightly, and his eyes are screwed shut.

“I said don’t apologize. I… I know you went through my phone. You’re a terrible actor, Kayn.”

He pulls Ezreal’s hands from his mouth and looks at him in bewilderment. “You knew? Since when? Why aren’t you mad at me??”

“Why…” Ezreal cuts himself off, taking a breath. “Why would I be mad when you did exactly what I wanted you to do?”

Kayn is beyond confused.

“Ez… what-?”

“I told you there was something that I wasn’t ready to tell you.” Ezreal cuts him off, desperate to get it all out before he changes his mind. “After we talked, I realized that I was never gonna be ready. So I left my phone unlocked knowing you would snoop because you’re an ass. ”

He punches Kayn’s shoulder lightly.

“An ass who deserves to have as much trust put into him as he puts into me.” Ezreal finally opens his eyes and looks up at Kayn. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be upfront with you.”

Kayn just stares at him for a moment before smiling softly. He pulls Ez into a tight hug and strokes his hair, prompting the other to bury his face in his chest.

“We’re so dumb.”

The laughter Ezreal lets out is muffled. He eventually pulls his head up, revealing a heavy dusting of pink over his cheeks and ears. “We should probably get better at talking to each other.”

“Agreed,” Kayn says. He grabs Ezreal by the shoulders and holds him at an arm’s length.

“You gonna explain your tickle album to me now?”

Ezreal flinches out of Kayn’s grasp, dramatically clutching his chest. “You have to warn me before you say that!”

Kayn blinks, nervous to ask for clarification.

“That… that word, ” Ez feels a shudder go through his body. “It makes me… shy.”

Kayn thinks back on what word he could’ve said to make Ezreal react that way. Was it… 

“Tickle?”

A startled yelp leaves Ezreal’s mouth as he covers his face with his hands. “Yes, that!!”

A strong pair of hands drag his own from in front of his face. Ezreal’s head shoots down to stare at the floor, and one of those hands finds it way until his chin to lift it back up. Mismatched eyes meet golden, accompanied by a warm smile.

“Talk to me.” Kayn places a hand on the side of Ezreal’s face, melting a bit when he leans into the touch. “From the beginning. I don’t know why you’re so anxious right now, but I promise there’s no need to be. You’re safe with me, Ezzie.”

Ezreal blushes at the nickname reserved for only the softest moments between the two. Kayn is right; he’s safe . Kayn has always made him feel nothing but safe. Be it physically or emotionally, he’s always been by his side. He takes a few deep breaths as his hands find the hem of his shirt to help him stay calm, and he spills.

He tells Kayn everything. He talks about how he’s always really liked being tickled, even past the age where that sort of thing is normal. He explains how it makes him feel; the physical sensation is silly and fun, and it shuts his brain off from the anxiety and bad feelings always swirling around in there. He mentions how it’s impossible to overthink when he’s laughing his head off. He also addresses the pictures, saying that he just thinks the art is adorable and it flusters him to look at, which isn't a bad thing because he doesn’t mind being flustered. When he mentions being flustered, he clarifies that that’s all his reaction to Kayn saying “the t-word” was. He gets flustered just hearing it, and has trouble saying it out loud. He even confesses that he reads stories that are centered around tickling, because reading about his favorite characters “getting got” is fun, but it’s also comforting to know that there are other people who like to read and write about it. Other people like him.

He also touches on how this particular interest has made him feel wrong. Like a weirdo. A freak. He’s heard people talking about how much they hate being tickled his whole life, so the fact that he likes it makes him wonder if there’s something wrong with him. He shudders as he recaps the nights he’s spent in tears feeling broken over it. While it’s nice to view content from others online that feel the same way about it, he feels alone in his everyday life. He’s been too afraid to let anyone know about this part of him for fear of judgment. Until now.

When he’s finished speaking, he looks up at Kayn with nervous eyes. He’s beaming at him, which prompts Ezreal to cover his face.

“That’s everything. You know everything.” He whines softly. “I’ve… never told anyone any of that.”

“Ezreal.”

Ezreal looks up again, now with unshed tears of embarrassment burning in his eyes. He doesn’t know what to expect when he hears his name, but he definitely does not expect the sweet, soft kiss that gets pressed on his lips.

“W-Wha-?”

“I’m so proud of you.” Kayn wraps him in a tight, safe embrace that breaks the dam. Ezreal cries softly into his shoulder, feeling the adrenaline leave his system and get replaced with overwhelming amounts of love for his boyfriend.

“I’m so proud of you, Ezzie,” he says again. “Thank you for trusting me.”

“You don’t think it’s weird?” Ezreal doesn’t lift his head, and Kayn laughs at his muffled voice.

“Of course not. Everything you said made perfect sense. Plus it’s pretty cute.”

“No it isn’t…” Ezreal somehow manages to bury his face even deeper into Kayn’s shoulder. Kayn can see the red at the tips of his ears and chuckles.

“Sounds like you want me to prove it.”

Ezreal’s body tenses and Kayn is worried that he pushed too far too fast, but Ezreal’s muffled “maybe” squishes the thought. He smiles as he considers making Ez ask for tickles properly, but he remembers how brave he’s been today and decides he deserves his reward.

Kayn’s hands wander to Ezreal’s sides; he’s not even doing anything yet and Ez is already squirming.

“You got any boundaries I need to know about?”

“J-Just… stop when I ask you to.”

When Kayn hears the tremble in his boyfriend’s voice, he tilts his head up and kisses him.

“You’re safe.”

Before Ezreal can speak, frantic giggles get caught in his throat as Kayn’s fingers explore his sensitive sides. He writhes in his arms, trying and failing to hold back his laughter.

“Don’t hide from me, Ez,” Kayn warns. He speaks directly into Ezreal’s ear, making him jerk his head to the side and squeal. “I thought we were done hiding things from each other!”

Ezreal fully intends to keep his laughter at bay, but he can’t hold it back once he feels Kayn’s fingers worm their way under his arms. He shrieks with laughter, attempting to slide down to the floor and crawl away to freedom. He doesn’t even get halfway there when Kayn follows him down and continues his tickly assault on the floor. He lays Ezreal down on his back and stays next to him, not wanting to pin him or trap him in any way.

Well, not until Ez says it’s okay, at least.

“Gahahaha! K-Kahahayn, pleeease!!”

“Please what?” Kayn smirks. “Please keep tickling you?”

Kayn moves to claw at his stomach, eliciting hysterical cackles from his poor, suffering boyfriend. Ezreal’s heels dig into the carpet as snorts start to decorate his laughter, bringing a light blush to Kayn’s face. Thank everything that Ez is too occupied to notice.

Ezreal taps out soon after, and Kayn relents immediately. He watches as Ezreal flops over on his side and curls up into a ball, giggling softly and rubbing at his stomach. His face is red and his smile is so big that Kayn’s cheeks hurt.

“That… was insane…” Ezreal flops back over onto his back, breathing heavily.

“Really? I tried to go easy on you. Didn’t want to scare you off.”

“Easy?!” Ezreal stares at Kayn in disbelief. “That was not easy!”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you’re so ticklish.”

A whimper rips itself from Ez’s throat at that, and Kayn howls with laughter. He scoops Ezreal up in his arms and kisses his cheek.

“I really am so proud of you.”

Ezreal hides his face in Kayn’s neck as he heads to their shared room, muttering a tiny, flustered “thank you” followed by an even tinier kiss.

The day could not have gone any more perfectly. Ezreal finally told Kayn the thing he’s been wanting to say for months now, he accepted it and didn’t judge him for it, he got absolutely wrecked with tickles, and now he’s being princess carried to his bed.

He’s proud of himself too.

[our-hextech-dream]

okay so like a heartsteel version of cherry doll scandal would PROBABLY make the most sense as an ezkayn or settez au bc kayn and sett are softhearted jerks but like. i don't wanna. 1 am nsfw ezyone cds (kinda) au rambles incoming. 🍋

yone accidentally finding out that ezreal jerks off to fanmade ASMR videos of his voice is so much more spicy than it being another member, imo. yone's not even a member of the band, his voice is nothing special (except to a very dedicated contingency of heartsteel's fanbase, he's finding out) and the video is just compilations of him talking from interviews and variety shows, it's not even anything inherently sexual in nature, but apparently it still gets ez off. multiple times.

okay, knowing about what his bandmate jerks off to is one thing, but then - what, if anything, should he do about it? he could pretend he never found out. no harm done, he could just let ez do his thing. everyone needs their alone time and whatever works is none of yone's business. but, hm... is it going to affect ezreal's ability to work with him if he makes a habit of it? (.... he hasn't already made a habit of it, right?) yone suddenly can't stop thinking about leaning over ezreal's shoulder to deliver some feedback, feeling him flush and shiver and knowing why his voice goes tense and faux-casual. "Careful, don't strain your throat." and his breath is hot against ezreal's ear and-

fuck.

is he even gay? he's never felt anything for a man before, and honestly, maybe he still doesn't? he tries to picture himself with aphelios, k'sante, sett, or kayn. heugh. okay, no. definitely not. so it's either just ezreal, or it's the novelty of knowing someone wants him... like that. probably the second one. he definitely isn't going to do anything until he figures it out.

but then, it's weird. it's surprisingly hard to gauge whether he likes ezreal or likes attention because ezreal actually... doesn't really act any differently towards him in public compared to the rest of the group, now that he's really paying attention. ezreal is touchy and affectionate and playful with everyone equally and he's never once been reticent or timid. rather than fulfill yone's lurid fantasy about accidentally turning ezreal into blushing shy mess, ezreal just pushes his face away when he gets too close and complains about how it tickles, and goes right back to perfect vocal runs without missing a beat.

so what is the truth?? how can it be that ezreal is the one who is so turned on by yone's voice that he can't help but touch himself over it, but yone is the one left flustered and hyperaware of every casual touch? and he KNOWS he's starting to catch looks from k'sante, with his horrible sixth sense for these kinds of things- it's so embarrassing to be the one on the back foot for the first time at his age. it's so bad that he even, briefly, in a moment of weakness, considers asking his brother how he knew his girlfriend was interested. he doesn't, though, because he can already imagine yasuo's face and it's insufferable. he'd rather die single.

and at this point it's starting to seem like he will. ezreal is not coming onto him, despite his secret attraction. in a weird way, it's starting to make yone feel like he's being used. ezreal obviously likes his voice, but what, is the rest of him chopped liver? sure, he also hasn't done anything to indicate that he might be interested in changing his relationship with ezreal, but it's different. he's older and he's the band's producer, it wouldn't be appropriate.

k'sante saves him, of course. one day while they're all just hanging out in the common area, k'sante flat out asks if ezreal has ever dated anyone or if he has a crush? what's his type? a cute hoobae or a caring sunbae? it clearly catches ezreal off-guard (mainly because he didn't think k'sante knew those words), which is probably the only reason why he doesn't call yone out for choking on his drink and suppressing a cough until his eyes water. but once kayn and sett taste blood in the water they're all over the singer. come on, ez! what IS your type?

"Uh, I think I would like someone older than me. Someone really responsible and mature."

yone feels like sinking through the floor. k'sante is casually sitting back like he didn't just open a can of horrible flesh-eating worms and dump them all in yone's lap. kayn says something about milfs and ezreal laughs. helpless and trapped, yone is forced to listen as the conversation turns to physical preferences. face or body or personality? what's the most important? kayn says face, sett says personality. when pressed, ezreal says a nice voice is a must. and then, finally, finally, yone catches a hint of color in those cheeks as a pair of golden eyes subconsciously flick over to him and just as quickly dart away.

how could he not be sure after that?

[bullet-prooflove]

Partners: EZ Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @oureternalbond @wakeama @infinity-mars @danzer8705 @perverteddreamss @keyweegirlie @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @est1887 @the-wandering-lunatic @alwaysachorusgirl @anime-weeb-4-life @multifandomloversworld @mortal--soul @buddinglinguist @adaydreamaway08 @stressed-chas @spookyboogyuniverse @spaghettificationandpretzels @thanossexual @thebaileybugle @bonsaijoons @sclitvdes @appreciatelove @weiwei0210 @justreblogginfics @irishavengersassemble @keyweegirlie @zaenight @wolfiekru

Story Arc:

The Water Tower - EZ tells you a secret.

Pound of Flesh - EZ realises the situation with your debt has taken a violent turn.

"you have my life in your hands" - EZ pays off your debt.

Drinking Tonight - EZ reflects on his decision.

It’s you that texts EZ, not the other way around. He doesn’t know what to expect when he steps into the bar. There’s a trepidation in his chest because whilst the two of you weren’t talking, your relationship is in stasis. It’s the reason he’s kept his head down over the past few days, given you a little space because the truth is he doesn’t want what he has with you to end. He knows that’s what’s going to happen now you’ve broken the stalemate. You’re going to give him his stuff back and tell him that it’s over.

In his heart he knows that he would do it all over again. He can’t stand the idea of you being broken like that, having to trade your body to pay off the interest of a loan that you didn’t ask for.

When he enters the bar, you’re sitting at one of the tables near the juke box. The machine is unplugged, the glass panel still smashed. Someone has helped repair the shelves that lined the back wall of the bar, Riz he thinks, he remembers the other man mentioning popping over a couple of nights ago. He sits down across from you, his shoulders tense as he slumps in his seat unable to look at you.

There’s silence for a minute before you sigh, your fingertips straying to one of the cardboard coasters before you begin to toy with it.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did. I…” You hesitate for a second before finding your words. “I’m so used to being on my own, that I forgot what it’s like to rely on another person. I haven’t been able to do that for a very long time.”

He knows your talking about your father, both before and after his death. You’d taken care of him long before the cirrhosis killed him, when he was too drunk to stand, too beaten up to gamble, too hungover to manage a bar. You’ve fended for yourself for as long as you can remember.

“I don’t want to take your money. I don’t want it to taint our relationship but now we’re in a predicament because I feel beholden to you, and I don’t like that feeling.”

“You aren’t.” EZ says fiercely, ducking his head so he can meet your gaze. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

“Imagine it was Angel.” You say carefully. “That Angel had paid off a debt you owed to the club, a debt that right now you can’t possibly afford to pay, imagine how that would make you feel.”

Grateful, he thinks and then trapped. There are expectations attached to something like that even if they aren’t spoken. Angel would never hold it over him, but it would be there, in between the two of them. It’s in that moment that he gets it. By paying the debt he may have taken Grady’s boot off the back of your neck, but he’s replaced it with his own.

“How do we fix this?” He asks you, his elbows coming to rest on the table. “How do we move past it?”

You lean down and reach into your purse, withdrawing an A4 brown envelope and setting it down on the table in front of him.

“I had this drawn up.”

He frowns as he reaches for the envelope, unsealing it with his fingertip before he pulls the paperwork out of it and studies it intently. It’s a contract, he sees his name on it and yours, the title of the bar and it dawns on him all at once.

“No.” He says as he places the document back down on the table. “I don’t want it.”

“EZ…” You begin but he shakes his head cutting you off.

“Jo, this place belongs to you, to your family.” He says, his voice rough. “I can’t take it from you.”

“EZ, you are the only person in this world that understands how much this place means to me.” You tell him, reaching across the table and clasping his head in yours. “Why I have to keep it, why I work my ass off for it and for you to be a partner in that…” You trail off for a second and he realises how hard this is, not just for him but for you too. You are not a woman who trusts easily, the world has taught you that other people only want something in exchange for what you can give them.

This contract is your way of resetting the balance between the two of you. As much as you have faith in him, you’ve been proven wrong so many times before that the wound just can’t be healed. He understands that about you.

“Think of the money as an investment.” You tell him. “You own 50% of the bar. You get a say in all of the decision making and a 50% share of the profits, everything else is up to me. The operations, the day to day running, it’s mine to deal with. In a couple of years when I’ve saved enough cash, I can buy you out.”

It’s clear that you’ve given this a lot of thought, that for you this is the light at the end of a dark tunnel that has been your reality for a very long time. He places his palm upon the paperwork as he stares down at it, his fingertips skating over the text. The time he’s spent behind your bar, with you have been some of the happiest of his life. He can see this working, the two of you being happy together, running this place.

“No interest.” He says finally as he tilts his head up to look at you. “The aim of paying off the loan was to give you the room to breathe. Take the part about the interest out and I’ll sign it.”

“EZ…”

“Jo.” He says firmly. “No interest.”

You pause for a second before nodding your head.

“Fine. No interest.” You agree as you slide the paperwork back towards you. “I’ll get this amended for you to sign.”

He watches as you tuck the contract back into the envelope, returning it to your purse.

“And us?” He asks you, dark eyes resting on you as you lean across the table so that your faces are inches apart. “Where does this leave the two of us?”

“I guess this makes us partners.” You tell him, your fingertips trailing over the curve of his cheek. “In life and with the bar.”

He exhales, his eyes meeting yours as his lips brush over the tattoo on your pulse point.

“Partners.” He says with a smile. “I like the sound of that.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[nattinatalia]

Urban Wyatt x Reader : YOU LOST MOMMY AND DADDY

A/N : I don’t know where I was going with this. I had a plan but it went all over the place like every fic I have lol so enjoy.

The moment you and Urban decided to take some time apart you had made a quick and judgmental decision and packed yours and your daughters stuff and moved back to Los Angeles.

You thought it would’ve been easier on you, but once you realized it was the complete opposite you decided to move back to Louisville KY.

Plus, Urban and Cassie didn’t deserve to be far apart from each other. You and Urban had one important rule, and that was to always do right for Cassie when it comes to coparenting, never let the problems between the both of you affect her.

So here you were settling into your new house with your best friend's help, while Urban and Jack took Cassie, Mia and Ezequiel out for some frozen yogurt.

“Are you sure you’re totally fine moving back here? I know those three months back in your hometown were hard, but I can’t imagine this being any easier.” Jess says.

“It’s not easy but it’s not hard either.” You shrug, “Him and I are in a good place and we’ll forever be tied down to each other. Plus, you and Jack have been a huge help and also Maggie, you don’t understand she checks up on me all the time and offers to watch Cassandra if I ever need alone time.”

Jess smiles, “We will always be here for you three, no matter what.”

“Thank you.”

◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦ ◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦

Two hours later Jack was walking in with the kids, but Cassie was having a full on crying session and yelling her little lungs out.

“Cassie, babygirl please relax.” Jack tells her.

"YOU LOST MY MOMMY AND DADDY." Cassie yells, tears running down her face, pouting at her Tio Jack.

“I know and I’m sorry.”

“No, no sorry, get my parents.”

“What is going on?”

Jack turns to face his wife “Babe, please help me, I don’t know what to do.”

“Cassie, what’s wrong little mama?” Jess kneels down in front of her.

“Ti-tio Jack lost my mommy and daddy.” Cassie whimpers out.

Jess furrows her eyebrows. “Your mommy is in the other room, baby.” Jess sees Urban walking in, “And look, there’s your daddy.”

“NO MY OTHER MOMMY AND DADDY.”

“I looked everywhere, I can’t find them.” Urban announces, scratching at his head.

Cassie glares at Jack “You big mean guy.”

“Cassie, please forgive me.”

She shakes her head “NO”

“It’s what you get daddy, you don’t lose something important.” Mia sasses Jack.

Ezequiel is watching the exchange while chewing on some baby carrots.

“It was an accident.” He turns to look at Cassie, “I promise to get you more.”

She glares at that “Noo, I want my daddy and mommy back.”

“Okay I’m confused now.” Jessica says, standing up. She’s looking at the kids, then at Jack and Urban, waiting for an explanation.

You finally walk into the living room and notice your daughter's face is red from crying. “Oh baby, what's the matter?”

Cassie runs up to you, so you carry her. “Tio Jack perdió my other mommy and daddy.”

You glare at Urban and Jack.

You rub at Cassie’s back, “It’s okay, I’m sure they’re hiding somewhere.”

“I’m still confused.” Jess says.

“Her Care Bears, she got them when we moved and she’s been attached to them, she calls them mommy and daddy as a play thing.” Urban explains.

“So recall your steps, where did you last see them?” You ask.

“Yeah daddy.” Mia says, “When was the last time you saw them?”

“I don’t remember.” Jack says.

“Where did you guys go? Maybe call the place and ask if they’ve seen them?” Jess suggests.

“I gave them to Tio to take care of them mami.” Cassie whispers out.

“I know but Ez was running around so I had to go after him and I don’t remember where they went after that.”

“Dad, it not my fault.” Ez says, looking at his dad while taking a bite from a carrot.

“I know little man, I’m not saying it is.”

“Let’s go see your new bed yeah baby? Meanwhile tio can look for them.” Urban says.

You, Cassie and Urban walk out the living room leaving Jack and his family there.

“Babe, what did you do? I can’t believe you lost her peluches.” Jess says.

“It wasn’t on purpose, I honestly thought I had left them in the backpack.” Jack is scrolling through his phone, texting Neelam and asking her for a huge favor.

“Y/N will probably have a tough time putting her to sleep if Cassie is used to sleeping with them.”

Jack sighs, “I’m working on it.”

◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦ ◦•●◉✿✿◉●•◦

“P-papi, I want my plushies.” Cassie sobs out.

Urban brushes her hair to the back of her ears, “I know mamas, take a nap and when you wake up, I’m sure they’ll be back.”

“But I can’t, I need them next to me now.”

“Hey.” You sit at the edge of her bed. “Estoy segura que tu papá y nino van a encontrar tus peluches.” You smile at her. “I’ll lay with you while they look?”

Cassie nods, “okay.” She faces Urban “Sorry I’m being baby, I just sad.”

Urban smiles at her, “You are a baby, and you’re allowed to cry over it.”

“I no baby, I'm three.” She puts up three fingers.

“Okay, you’re my big baby, how does that sound?”

“Good.” She nods.

Urban kisses her forehead and walks out the bedroom, leaving you and Cassie to sleep.

“Did you find them?” He asks Jack.

“No, but I found some nearby and Neelam is about to pick them up and bring them here.”

“Don’t you think Cassie will notice that they are new and not her actual bears?” Jess asks.

“Babe, what do you want me to do? I don’t know where I left them and I’m not about to have my goddaughter hate me.”

Jess shakes her head, “Relax with your dramatics.”

“I just can’t believe we lost them, hopefully Y/N was able to get her down for her nap. She was crying for them.” Urban says, taking in a deep breath.

“Way to make me feel more bad.” Jack mumbles out. He looks at his phone, “Neelam is here with backup.”

They both head to the front door.

“I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed on my day off, for all of these.” Neelam is glaring at Jack.

“That’s why you get paid extra.” Jack shrugs. “Thank you though.”

“Dude, why all of these?” Urban asks, looking at all the boxes in disbelief.

“Backup, now she has some extra and I can’t be blamed for losing them.”

“What’s all this?” You ask, walking into the living room with Cassie in your arms.

“Daddy bought Cassie more plushies.” Mia answers her, smiling.

Cassie asks to be put down and she runs towards the boxes of Care Bears. “You buy me new ones Nino?”

Jack nods, “Yeah, I’m sorry I lost your original ones.”

Cassie hugs him. “It okay Nino” she pulls back and points her index finger at him. “Don’t dos it again.”

“I promise.”

“Que se dice Cassandra?” You remind her.

“Ohhh, thank yous Nino Jack Jack.” She smiles.

“Want me to help you open them up mama?”

“Yes please, daddy.” She jumps excitedly.

Urban and Jack are helping Cassie open up all the boxes to free the bears.

“So.” Mia says smugly.

Everyone is staring at her now.

“We won’t need these then?” She opens up Jack’s carry-on backpack and pulls out Cassie’s original plushies.

“WHAT THE?!”

“MIA.”

“You had one job daddy, it’s a lesson.” Mia hands Cassie her bears. “I told you they were nearby.” she rolls her eyes.

“That’s not nice Mia.” Ez says, glaring at her. “You made Cashie cry.”

“It was a prank.”

“Mia, your brother is right, you know how important those were to Cassie. She was crying for them.” Jess tries to scold her.

“It okay, don’t be mad at her.” Cassie says. “I have all these now.” She points at the bears on the floor.

“Still not okay that you did that bug.”

“I’m sorry.” She groans. “Nino, Nina, I’m sorry I made Cassie cry.”

“Like you said, it was a prank. Your Nino and dad should’ve kept a good eye on all the items.” You reassure your goddaughter.

“See? All happy.” Mia smiles. “Cassie has her mommy and daddy back.”

“I’m confused?” Neelam says from her spot on the couch. She had stayed after she dropped off the boxes. “Y/N and Urban are done with their little petty break?”

“No.” You answer her. “She means her Care Bears.”

“And it’s not a petty break.” Urban says, staring at Neelam.

“Mommy, daddy, can you help me take all my daddy’s and mommy’s to bed?” Cassie asks, trying to carry all the bears.

You and Urban do just that, and help her get into bed so she can finally take her nap.

“So did you like my prank?” Mia asks.

“No young lady. You’ll be on time out.” Jack tells her.

“B-but why? Not my fault you lost them.” She shrugs. “I pick them up when you and nino were getting yogurt for us.”

“I blame Druski somehow.” Urban announces when he’s passing by to get a sippy cup with milk.

“I blame him too.” You yell out from Cassie’s bedroom.

•

Liked by jackharlow, yourusername, jessicaharlow, neelamthadhani, druski, and 6,986,345 others

urbanwyatt When Tio Jack looses your daughters favorite plushies, he stocks you up with bunch of them, only to find out his daughter had them all along 😅 it was a stressful day to say the least.

View all 1,800 comments

jackharlow Broke my heart seeing he cry 😢 Mia was definitely put on timeout for this.

yourusername Noo my baby, she confessed and said it was a prank. Let her be.

jessicaharlow I’m not excusing my daughters behavior, but also, let this be a lesson. Never take your eyes away from the kids or their favorite toys.

neelamthadhani Yeah thank you to me because I’m the one who picked them up and dropped them off.

jackharlow You got paid, thank you though.

druski Mia is learning, I love it.

urbanwyatt I FUCKING KNEW IT!!!!!!!!

jackharlow Count your days.

cozane I’m just saying, if I was there I wouldn’t have lost her mommy and daddy plushies.

jackharlow AVATAR SHUT THE HELL UP!

yourusername 😭😭😭😭

•

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃 || 𝐉𝐨𝐞𝐥 𝐌. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐄𝐳𝐫𝐚

pairing: joel miller x f!reader x ezra (prospect)

genre: smut, filth filth filth, minors dni

word count: 2.9k

summary: Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him you were a twisted source of purity, touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra, with him he could do anything. A scary, yet also exhilarating feeling. Or alternatively: You wake up to Joel and Ezra having sex

warnings: mlm, anal sex, handjob (from reader to ezra), consensual somnophilia, joel being emotionally unavailable but what's new, polyamorous relationship, anal fingering, spit as lube (pls do not try this at home use lube if you have it), mild choking, ez having a praise kink, a bit of feels at the end

a/n: Okay so I feel like some explanations are due-- This oneshot going to be part of the Dark Hearted People series that isn't out yet. (here's a short little drabble i wrote about it if you wanna see) It's coming, and outlines are being made but I got this horny oneshot idea and wanted nothing more than to write it. All the context that you need is given within the fic, but all I'm trying to say more is to come. Way more.

Also, I would like to thank @pedrito-friskito as always who read through this and cheered me on. And a thank you to @write-and-buried who allowed me to scream at her about this and screamed back at me. Love you both 💜💜💜

AO3 |Masterlist | Playlist

It’s a silent night. 

The darkness enveloped him like a cloak, suffocating and heavy. The silence was deafening, a piercing screech that seemed to slice through his very being. He could hear nothing but the faint rustling of the trees, a constant reminder of the desolate wilderness that surrounded him. Joel straightens his back, a crack echoing in the silence. He can hear snores coming from inside the tent. His fingers twitch impatiently against the rifle he holds. An itch, a burning sensation, crawled up his neck, a physical manifestation of his unease.

You’re a silent sleeper. That much he knows. It’s Ezra who’s the loud one. It’s the same when he’s awake, not granting Joel a minute of peace. 

They’ve been on the road for a while now. The tracks of the group they were following disappearing more and more into the wind every passing day. He’s on the everlasting road of questioning what the hell he’s doing here. With these people. You, he can rationalize. He’s known you since Boston. You were reliable, had a joke or two in you that made him crack a smile. 

But the other one? Meeting him was nothing other than a fluke. A mishap. One blind step. That’s all it took for Ezra to sink his tendrils into them both. 

His eyes dart to his watch, a reflexive action. The heaviness that weighs over him is immediate. He doesn't even need to look to tell the time so he hates that he still does. Every time he looks, he hopes that it would have fixed itself miraculously. 

The state of the sky, the position of the stars, all tell him what he already knows. It's Ezra's turn to keep watch. Joel still isn’t sure why you trust Ezra the way that you do—hell, he’s not even sure why you trust him. 

Joel’s knees protest as he stands up, the rifle dangling from his shoulder. 

The inside of the tent is warm, both yours and Ezra’s scent filling the small space. Your sweetness mixes with his earthiness and iron. Joel shouldn’t be able to tell the difference. His heart shouldn’t start beating faster the more he breathes in. His tongue touches his bottom lip, something warm and heavy rolls in his stomach.

He’s halfway inside when his movements still, eyes dropping to Ezra who’s sleeping closer to the entrance. He’s sleeping in a fetal position, knees nearly touching his chest with his hands tucked underneath his head. Ezra’s soft snores are more audible inside. Joel can see the way his chest rises and falls. For a fleeting moment, Joel's mind plays tricks on him and he imagines that moonlight pours from above, illuminating Ezra's sleeping form in a soft glow. 

But there’s not. 

Joel steps inside, the flap fluttering closed behind him. He falls to his knees, watching. The back of Ezra’s shirt is rolled up, showcasing the dimples of his lower back. Even with only a patch of skin, Joel can see the scars. It’s easy to forget that the other man is actually a couple years younger than him.

He’s supposed to wake Ezra up but finds himself nestling closer instead. Joel lays down on his side, softly placing his arm on top of the other’s waist. That’s the only contact he allows himself. His scent is stronger at this distance. His arm raises with Ezra’s body every time he breathes in. Then out. Again, in… and out. A pleasant repeat of motion. 

What you said to him before the night echoes in his mind. You’re not even giving him a chance, you’d said with your hands cradling his face. It’s been a confusing month. The three of you entangled in each other both emotionally and physically. 

During all of those times, Joel never touched Ezra with love. He’d touched him with need, anger, grief. Never love. He just couldn’t. Ezra never said anything. He allowed Joel to take him rough, fuck him deep. The sounds the other made indicated to Joel that he enjoyed it, his moans stifled yet loud. 

The skin above his stomach grows tight, tingling. He feels a devastating tug at his own loins, a pressing reminder of what he needs. His cock twitches, wanting to be buried in that heat once more. Joel’s frustrations run deep; to him you were a twisted source of purity, touching you forced him to think, forced him to feel. But not Ezra, with him he could do anything. A scary, yet also exhilarating feeling. 

Joel cheats his hand under Ezra’s shirt. He traces the pads of his fingers up his abdomen, feeling every puckered scar that decorates his tanned skin. The other man shudders against him, instinctively pushing back to him until there’s no room to breathe. Joel hisses between clenched teeth. He drags his fingers over a nipple, traces the other, and continues to move up. Ezra’s chest heaves, pulse-quickening under Joel’s touch. 

He’s positive that Ezra’s awake now. But that doesn’t stop him from curling calloused fingers around the other man’s throat, squeezing, a warning to stay quiet. Without looking he knows Ezra’s smiling. He hates that crooked smile, the soft hints of amusement he gets in his eyes. 

The image is so vivid that Joel squeezes harder. Ezra’s ass presses firm against him, his cock throbs, hips stuttering forward. 

“Restless night?” Ezra asks, voice heavy with sleep. 

“Just need you to take me,” he grunts, grinding himself into the other. “Don’t talk, I don’t wanna wake her up,” 

“I’ll try but I make no promises. If she rouses from sleep that’s on you,” 

Joel’s hand slides up from Ezra’s throat to his mouth, silencing him. His lips feel soft against the roughness of his palm. His eyes move to you briefly, you’re still sleeping, your back turned. He drags his nose down the column of Ezra’s neck, taking deep breaths, he slips his other hand down Ezra’s sweatpants. Noticing how hard the other is already, he scoffs. Ezra was probably awake since Joel let himself inside. 

Joel’s strokes are rough and hard. The friction makes Ezra tremble, nostrils flaring, moans seeping into the heat of Joel’s palm. He swipes his thumb over the slit, making Ezra jolt. 

“Fuckin’ stay still,” he growls into the other’s skin. Ezra can only nod, shaking as Joel continues to drag his hand over the thick length. Ezra thrusts into his fist, teeth nipping the inside of the hand that covers his mouth. 

His own arousal hard and aching between his legs, Joel pulls back his hand and spits on his fingers. Ezra’s breath hitches at the wet sound, which makes Joel’s cock drip, precome smearing into the fabric of his boxers. One hand still above Ezra’s mouth, he grips the other’s waist and pins Ezra against him, rolling his hips again and again. 

Taking the hint, Ezra pushes down his sweatpants with shaky hands, kicking them down so they bunch around his ankles. With two wet fingers, Joel traces the rim of his quivering hole. He slips them inside, a tight fit, a bit dry. He pulls them out and spits again, Ezra’s groans vibrate against Joel’s skin. Sinking his fingers again, Joel moves them with shallow thrusts. 

“Fuck, so damn tight,” Joel rasps. Ezra’s whimpers become louder, his eyes nervously fixated on your sleeping figure. “You ready to take me?” 

Joel doesn’t wait for an answer and pulls out his fingers, but Ezra nods anyway. They both know what this is. They both know why Joel asks that. He asks it every time. A weak attempt to peel himself away from feeling any kind of remorse for using someone else for his own relief. 

Ezra doesn’t seem to care though. With a curled spine he grinds himself and feels Joel’s shaft, precome sticks to his skin, the movements wetting the other’s cock. His own length aches painfully, heavy between his legs. Ezra watches you, eyes falling to your ass. He wants to grab a fistful of the tender flesh, pull you close, and fuck you as Joel buries his grief into him—

You start to stir, making both men freeze. The fat head of Joel’s cock is notched at his entrance, throbbing as Ezra’s insides threaten to swallow him whole. Joel’s fingers bite into Ezra’s cheeks. Both of them watch you with wide eyes, heads swimming in half arousal and half anxiety. You slowly turn and tuck your hands under your head, closed eyes facing Ezra’s wide ones. 

Joel snaps his hips forward, sinking into the other man’s heat completely. An unwilling groan vibrates in his throat and he stifles it by biting the inside of his cheek. Joel, with his hand firm over Ezra’s mouth, pumps in quick, deep strokes until he feels his legs start to shake. He swears Ezra is trying to suffocate him, suck him dry with how tight he is. The other flutters around him, clenching and releasing his cock as he tries to desperately accommodate his size. 

Tears gather in Ezra’s eyes, he blinks them away, and breathes heavily from his nose. Joel is not a small man by any means, clenching on the thickness. He stretches him wide, the pain mixes with the pleasure, a harmonizing symphony that short-circuits his brain. Joel pushes and pulls, guiding Ezra at his pace. Your sleeping face is blurred to him, the corner of his vision fading to black like a vignette. Joel’s hand slides down to Ezra’s chest, fingers spreading over his heated skin. 

Ezra’s mouth drops open to a gape almost immediately, heavy pants, and silent moans growing loud. Joel’s pacing is fast, cock hitting deep as he rocks his hips forward. He drags his lips down to Ezra’s shoulder, biting into his skin. His sprawled fingers close over Ezra’s nipple, giving it a sharp pinch that makes him hiss. 

Joel’s eyes are glued to you, your eyelids starting to flutter. But he can’t possibly care when the lust fills the cracks of his soul, a faux sense of peace makes his heart swell. He doesn’t care that Ezra’s moans become louder, he doesn’t care when the other wraps his fingers around his cock and starts to despertly fist himself. 

Joel only focuses on himself, his aching cock and need. His skin grows taut over his muscles, movements becoming strained and uncoordinated. He drills into him, balls tight with his fingers imprinting on the other’s skin. 

“S-Shit— Joel,” Ezra gasps, brows pinched together and eyes rolling back. “H-Harder—” 

They both know you are bound to wake up soon.

You feel warmth between your legs. Your dreams coat your skin with a heat that makes it tingle. You hear moans, wet sounds echoing in the tent. You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip. The inside of your mouth is like sandpaper. Is it morning already? 

Your eyes flutter open and Ezra’s face slowly comes into view. He’s groaning and you think it’s because he’s in pain, but when your vision clears up you see reality as it is. 

Your face burns when you see his expression in its full glory; mouth wide open, eyes glazed over with pleasure, brows furrowed as he rocks back and forth. First, you think he’s touching himself, but then there’s a flash in the dark, Joel catching your eyes over Ezra’s shoulder, staring directly at you. There’s something ravenous in his eyes, something that you can only describe as animalistic. He thrusts into Ezra hard when he catches your gaze, knocking the air out from Ezra’s lungs and making him moan right into your face. 

It’s a wanton sound. A choked-out voice that goes straight to your cunt, arousal pools between the plush of your thighs, you’re already wet. Neither of them seems bothered by you. In fact, they seem to be stirred on by it. Joel holds your gaze, only fucking into Ezra harder. The younger man’s eyes are squeezed tight, his cock bobs heavy and dark between his thighs. 

Your pussy pounds between your legs. Your gaze drops to Ezra’s length. It looks delectable. The head a warm flush of red, precum glistening at the tip, begging to be touched. A whine pulls you away from the sight, and you see that Ezra’s eyes are now open—barely, that is. You can see tears filling his lashline, dark eyes observing you between narrowed lids. 

“Little bird,” he moans, wets his lips, and swallows. “Touch me, please,” 

Your eyes move to Joel, he’s not staring at you anymore. With every thrust, you feel Ezra jolt. The urge to touch yourself rather than Ezra is much greater as Joel begins to pepper the other man’s skin with open-mouthed kisses, you see a bit of tongue poking between chapped lips. You’re not sure why, but you feel jealous almost. Joel’s lips are a form of blessing, something he did as a reward, be it done consciously or not.

With little hesitation, you wrap your fingers around Ezra’s shaft. The man’s head falls back, his hips stuttering in an almost manic way. Coming closer, you close your lips around his trembling adam’s apple, kissing a path that goes all the way to his parted lips. You slip a tongue. Groaning into his mouth, you swipe your palm over the head and smear precome down his length. Every time Joel rocks into him, he buries himself further into your fist. 

It’s so intimate seeing Ezra like this. Pleasure is good on everyone, and to be witnessing it in its full glory makes you want to string him along the edge as long as you can. Sweat coats his face and you feel a tremor in his thighs. He’s completely powerless. You suck on his tongue, lick yourself into his mouth, and nip at his bottom lip. The sounds he makes are unfiltered, debouched. 

You stroke him faster, harder. Wet noises echo from your palm, a sticky mess between your bodies. You’re breathing jaggedly into eachother’s mouths, you squeeze the base of his cock and he gasps. 

“Are you gonna come for us?” you ask into his mouth, a heavy drop of precum slides down your knuckles, making you smile. “Such a good man,” 

Ezra’s reaction to your words is visceral. With a newfound eagerness, he molds his lips into yours, again and again, he sucks the air from your lungs. You press your legs together, hips rocking in a weak attempt for friction. 

Suddenly Ezra’s entire body seizes and he parts from you with a sharp gasp. You don’t need to look to see but you do so anyway. His cock throbs and twitches in your palm, he spills over your fingers, come seeping into the fabric of your shirt. You continue to stroke his oversensitive shaft, your gaze finding Joel’s. 

Joel fucks himself deeper into Ezra, pushing all three of you closer together. You lean towards him, and he licks the seam of your lips before indulging in you fully. Ezra continues to sway back and forth with Joel’s thrusts, you continue to glide your hand over his cock, short pants, and hisses falling from Ezra’s lips. 

Joel’s hips stutter, spilling into the younger man as he flicks his tongue over yours, sucking your bottom lip between his teeth. You let out a sharp hiss when he sinks his teeth, he doesn’t draw blood but the sensitive flesh throbs like he has. Joel feels the warm drip of his own release trickling down, the sensation making him thrust deeper.

You’re aching for them both. A hunger crackling over your skin and warming your neck. Joel doesn’t pull out, soft growls trembles in his chest, hands moving down and squeezing Ezra’s hip. The latter is on the verge of blacking out, his breathing uneven, eyes glossed over. 

Bur despite it all, Ezra manages to move closer to you. He nuzzles your chest, teeth tiredly nipping the swell of your breasts. 

“That was quite the way to wake up,” you murmur, your need to comfort Ezra pushing you to cord your fingers within his short hair, damp with sweat. 

Neither of them answer. Ezra smiles into your skin while Joel averts his gaze, finally pulling out and uncaringly cleaning the mess he made with the first thing he found. 

The minutes later Ezra pulls himself together, leaving the tent with wobbly legs and exhaustion in his eyes. Joel shows his true colors then, pulling you close and laying his chin over your head. He cups your ass with both hands, kneading the muscle. 

“Do you want me to?” he asks, guiding your hips into a sloppy roll. He’s still soft. 

You shake your head, “No. I just want us to rest,” 

Joel nods but continues to touch you. You didn’t lie. The thing the most of you need is rest—but you allow him to do as he pleases. You say nothing when he pushes a hand beneath the band of your panties, sliding two fingers up the wet seam of your slit. A satisfied sight leaves your lips. 

Joel has a habit of thinking he’s unreadable, but over the months you can say that you know him fairly well. What he can take from Ezra, he can’t from you. You know that. Ezra knows that. Joel is the only one who isn’t aware just how abundantly you two know him. Not that it matters. 

You just want him to let go. Allow himself to feel without remorse. 

A dream that will probably never come true. 

[tategaminu]

“They are both equally important to each other and their development but Rayla is the one who gets the insults…”

What’s even more annoying about this is not only does Rayla get ridiculed for something Callum also does, that particular set of fans will also straight up deny that Rayla is Callum’s priority. “Oh, he would’ve found a way to connect to the Ocean with or without her as motivation. There were other factors in him deciding to do dark magic again.”

No. It was about Rayla, and pretty much only Rayla.

THIS

What kind of bs is "there were other factors" like my guy!! are you watching the show with a blindfold on? sure, he probably wanted all of them to get out of the boat but Rayla was the trigger

A thing I have also seen in fandoms is people trying to invalidate male characters' feelings for a girl, for whatever reason I don't understand. I will always find incredibly beautiful a male character treating a female character as an equal, not as the fairer sex or stuff like that, as an equal who he loves, and we see this with Callum, he has never ever treated Rayla as lesser than him, she's his priority alongside Ezran and that's super beautiful. I will always have a soft spots for guys being the most lovable and protective people towards their girls you know? not because they are girls but because they know they deseve love, so seeing people totally invalidate that feels so wrong to me.

S5 and S2 parallel each other, in S2 we saw Callum connect to an arcanum because he did ark magic for Rayla, sure he also did it for himself to feel useful but it was mostly to save Rayla, season 5 shows it even more clear. We only see Rayla and Callum wanting to scape when they see the other in danger, the reason Finnegrin even wants to throw Rayla to the leviathan is because Callum punched him because he was hurting Rayla, and he was hurting Rayla because he tried to beat his ass for hurting Callum.

We can see Callum letting himself get beaten and still refusing to do dark magic and give the spell to kill Domina away, it's only when Finnegru says he will feed Rayla to the fishes we see Callum BREAK. He tells him the spell right away. He could have invented a different spell but he was too desesperate to save Rayla he told him the whole truth. He could have done dark magic any other moment but it's after this moment when he does, and then he goes straight up to save Rayla, then just as in season 2, he figures out the arcanum after doing dark magic for her, but this time also thanks to the poem A LOVE POEM who he recited before in ep 1 TO RAYLA. The proof is all there like seriously, he can figure out the arcanum because he loves her, it is as clear as day.

He tells her "I would do anything for you" which it's directly shown in this whole episode. Callum is terrified of doing dark magic, not only because it breaks his morals but because he's scared it could make Rayla dislike him and because it would be an step further for Aaravos to possess him, (tho I'm not sure if he fully knows dark magic is what allows Aaravos to possess him at all, maybe he suspects it) we can see how people like Claudia who do way too much dark magic lose a bit of themselves, Callum is probably afraid of that as well and yet he still does because Rayla is more important to him than whatever the consecuences might be.

There are people out there who believe he wouldn't risk the world for her and stuff but c'mon, this guy would risk the entire universe, he is extremely loyal and proctective, his love for the ones closest to him make him twist his morals because he treasures them more than anything (Rayla and Ez that's it). Rayla has been shown as his achilles heel and we will see even more this plays out. I can't believe there are people who can't see it, everyone has their own way to interpret media sure but somes things are just SO clear, like imagine looking at Zym and going "I don't think he is a dragon, he could be a rat", no.

In a summary, I want people to cut slack on those two, mostly Rayla. It would be cool to treat her like an actual good written character and not trying to invalidate her or her relationship with Callum. The show characterizes them and their relationship so well, they are such complex people and I can't believe we have to deal with those kind of comments.

[vulpesverda]

For heartsteel headcanons I imagine Kayn is not a great cook because of the burnt Mac and Cheese he made (with Aphelios's influence)from an interview. So what would the bands including Alune's reactions be if he cooked dinner for them?

IF KAYN COOKED FOR THEM?? Dear Lord, I hope they've been blessed with iron stomachs. Isn't his like, specialty Mac and cheese also made with potato chips, or something?

Also, Phel being a little stinker is something I live for. I love that man with every fiber of my being.

If Kayn Made a Meal Headcanons

Content warnings: gross food, minor mentions of gagging

Kayn

I'm going to say out right, I don't necessarily think he's an awful cook. But he did learn how to cook from a bunch of drunk college rock kids. Some of them were definitely probably crustpunks. His standards for food are not very high, so what he makes, he genuinely enjoys. And no one else except other people with low standards for food enjoys his food. He also doesn't have very much technical skill in the kitchen, so he was very much unaware that Aphelios's advice would in fact set the oven on fire.

That being said: baked Mac and cheese with a potato chip crust doesn't sound half bad. I just don't trust him to be the one to make it. Nor do I trust any other abominations that come out of his kitchen.

K'Sante

Starting off strong with the main man, the big cheese, he's not pleased. He may eat protein powder dry, but thats a choice he made that he knows is unconventional.

He's going to try the food, but he's definitely also gonna make faces. If Kayn seems like he's actually proud of the food he's made, I think K'Sante would pick up on it and try not to be too harsh.... but that doesn't mean he won't give criticism. I could see a conversation between the two going something like this:

KY: Do you think it needs more salt? Maybe it needs more salt.

KS: It most definitely does not need more salt. In fact, it could do with less salt. No more salt.

Sett

Canonically the best cook in the house.... I would reckon to say that if Kayn cooked anything, it would not be while Sett is anywhere in the vicinity. Watching Kayn cook would stress him out and make him become a mother hen, constantly watching over Kayn's shoulder for any mishaps. Especially after the Mac and cheese incident. Kayn is going to have to wait until Sett is away to attempt anything like that ever again.

If he does manage to successfully make something and serve it to Sett, much like K'Sante, I don't forsee him being terribly harsh... on purpose. At least K'Sante tries to hide his displeasure a little bit. Sett can't control it. His face contorts, his eyes twitch and water, his tongue falls out of his mouth. I feel like Sett takes his enjoyment of food seriously, so if it's something he doesn't like, you're going to know.

Yone

He's not gonna eat it. Sorry. He'd rather get take out. He's gonna take one look at it, say "No thank you", and open Door Dash. Plain and simple.

Should Kayn continue to pressure him into eating it (perhaps because he's proud of it), he might try it to humor Kayn. He'd take a small bite, and upon making a little bit of a face, he'd take a sip of water and tell Kayn he's going to pass. I don't really see a reality in which this doesn't end in a Door Dash order. In fact, it may already be on the way.

Ezreal

He's scared. He vehemently tries to deny Kayn's advances in this moment, and may even potentially be eyeing the nearest exit. He's going to whine, and maybe even try to pretend like he has stuff to do to get out of this.

I feel like Ezreal might have the most intense reaction out of everyone? Even if Kayn manages to get a bite if something into his mouth, Ezreal is going to whine, and maybe even gag. Please help him.

EZ: Do I really have to...? I mean, I did eat a pretty big lunch...

KY: Come on, Ezreal, just a little nibble? Hehe.

EZ: Oh! Uhm.. I think I hear Yone calling for me in the other room! Uh, I'm coming!

Aphelios

Now, I personally believe Aphelios knew that advising Kayn the way he did in the Mac and Cheese Incident was going to end in disaster. He did it because he thought it would be funny, not because he thought it was going to work.

So when he is presented with whatever the hell Kayn put in front of him, he's capable of recognizing it for the culinary abomination that it is. If possible, he's probably going to not make eye contact with Kayn while passing the dining room to avoid this interaction all together, pretending that the music in his headphones is too loud to hear Kayn. But, if it's unavoidable, he's just going to put a hand out wave it side to side as if to say "No thank you". I don't think anyone is capable of getting this man to eat anything he doesn't want to. Sorry not sorry.

Now, if he plans on playing a prank...? That's a whole other topic of discussion I can get into on a different post.

Alune

She's probably going to try it, not gonna lie. I imagine she's probably tasted worse. Aphelios has probably tried to get her to eat something nasty on more than one occasion, so she's been primed for something such as this.

She may not like it, by any means, but she's more than happy to give it a shot and help him improve on his culinary skills. If he's going to continue to insist on cooking for them, she's at least going to make it more bearable for herself if no one else LMAO.

Plus, as the band manager, she can't have anyone getting food poisoning. So this comes with the territory. Though... she may also suggest going out to eat instead.

》 ---♡------♡------♡--- 《

AN: Ahh, this was such a fun prompt! Thank you so much for your submission! I really enjoyed writing it. I can't wait to write more for this group as I've really fallen in love with thier concept.

[writerblue275]

Brief Valentine’s Day Plans with Heartsteel

Inspiration: Hahahaha I’m so very single (I’m really fine with that. I gotta focus on myself at the moment) but I love LOVE so you all get this. Happy Valentine’s Day!

Champions: Heartsteel

Genre: Headcanon

Type: Fluff. *small sigh* I restrained myself.

Gender: Gender Neutral Reader!

TW: Swearing because I swear. Otherwise it’s fluffy time! ☺️

Aphelios

I can’t see Phel doing anything super out there or dramatic. That just doesn’t seem like him. But you know what I can see him doing?

Getting your fav takeout and throwing a cute little couples game night for the two of you. Cards, board games, video games, etc. Music he made in the background to set the fun vibe.

I have to think Aphelios is a gamer. Like I’d be so shocked if he wasn’t. Besides card and board games I’m thinking he’s both a pc and console gamer and he’s a big Nintendo guy.

He loves Smash Bros, Mario Kart, or Splatoon, and you two are working through Breath of the Wild and Tears of the Kingdom together. And while Phel’s super competitive in multiplayer games, he’s been teaching you tricks! (You’re the only one he’ll teach. Everyone else can just deal.)

It’d just be a lovely night. Hanging with your favorite person and having a great time doing something you enjoy together. Frankly those are some of my very favorite types of dates.

Ezreal

Very fun and very sweet. Heart fluttering. That’s what Valentine’s Day with Heartsteel Ezreal would be like.

I’m imagining a mix of like classic romantic gestures with some fun “young love” type vibes. Like he’s getting you flowers and taking you out to a nice dinner….

And then afterwards both of you go to an arcade/arcade bar and just have a fucking blast together. God help you when you try and take Ez on in air hockey or ski ball though. His AIM. Or in DDR? He’ll absolutely distract you so you don’t beat his score. (Distract him back!!)

But it’s fine because all those tickets he’s winning, he’s spending on you. Or on stuff that both of you can use. Like matching plushies or fidget toys. (So cute oml.)

Just an day/evening of fun moments, sweet kisses, and that feeling of young love, even if you’ve been with Ezreal for years.

Kayn

You might think Heartsteel’s resident bad boy is not very romantic. But, I truly believe Kayn can be, just in his own way of course! I don’t think super sappy romantic gestures are his thing. But having experiences with you is something he treasures.

I can imagine him picking you up and taking you somewhere far outside the city at night. A surprise location in the country. Somewhere quiet and peaceful.

And what does Kayn have planned? Well he packed pillows, blankets, your favorite drinks, and…a picnic basket! He’s planned a surprise picnic under the stars!

I feel like Kayn is really great to have deep conversations with, but you have to be someone special to have such talks with him. Him being so vulnerable indicates the extremely deep level of trust he has with and love he has for you.

Enjoy star gazing, cuddling, and chatting the night away with your person. What a super sweet way to get even closer to each other, no matter how long you’ve been with him.

K’Sante

Oh this would be an excellent Valentine’s Day with those classical romance vibes. K’Sante is fully about to wine and dine you, baby. Enjoy that shit. You’re getting spoiled like you absolutely deserve.

Buys/makes you a whole new outfit because you deserve it. If he doesn’t make you a full outfit he at least helps make part of it. Like accessories or something.

Reservation at one of the nicest restaurants in the city. K’Sante always thinks ahead and made it months in advance. (See why he’s one of the leaders of HS?)

Afterwards driving to an overlook and just watching the lights and talking about anything and everything. Moments filled with soft words and even softer kisses.

Just the classic movie-esque romantic night and I’m all for it (lmao I’m such a romantic). K’Sante definitely knows how to make your heart beat faster.

Sett

(Lord help me I gotta stop myself from going off the rails but he’d be so damn good at this.)

You want romance? By fucking god Sett’s going to give you ROMANCE, darling. He’s a gentleman.

He’s making a full meal from scratch (it’s your favorite meal of his that he makes), and also setting the ambiance. Table set, candles, lights low, flowers/other presents he knows you’ll like. The whole nine yards.

Sett’s not letting you lift a finger either. The most he’ll let you do is help pre-rinse some of the dishes after dinner. He’s in full Prince Charming mode and it’s excellent.

You thought the night ended at dinner? Wrong. Bubble bath with champagne and chocolate covered strawberries. Fluffy bath robes. Doing each others skin care. All the sweet shit.

And afterwards? Well just be patient and see where the night takes you. 😉 But overall what a lovely and romantic night with Sett, your gentleman of a partner. (I’m swooning just thinking about it.)

Yone

Your love/relationship with Yone isn’t loud or bombastic. It’s steady and unwavering. And that vibe is how Valentine’s Day is for the two of you.

He picks you up and brings you to his studio where he’s spiffed it up! Your favorite flowers in a vase. Both of your favorite take out (the place he took you on your first date) on a table w/ candles.

Yone’s got music playing softly in the background (a playlist he made just for you for Valentine’s Day of course). It’s every single song that makes him think of you. (When you ask him out of curiosity how long the playlist is, your ever-stoic partner turns a little pink as he mumbles, “o-over 4 hours….”)

During the slow songs Yone will even dance with you a little because he loves how it makes you smile. While dancing, he’ll rest his chin on your head if you’re short enough. And once you’re done dancing, you two can cuddle on the couch in his studio and do/talk about whatever.

It’s not over the top. It’s not grand. But it’s an intimate and personal night with the love of your life and truly nothing can be better than that.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Whether you’re a single pringle like myself or you are celebrating Valentine’s Day with someone, I hope your day is filled with love! 💙🥰

[dyingstars-if]

hi! I've read that arens giving love language is gift giving and that their gifts can be kinda creepy. can I ask what kind of gifts can mc expect? if its not too spoilery of course!

ngl my first thought was about a cat who brings mice/birds/whatever was caught into its humans bed. thinking about aren dropping a mouse in mcs bed in the middle of the night like "for you <3" made laugh tbh

here’s an example from the demo. forgive me, it’s unedited so it’s really clunky, but it gives you an idea of what mc is dealing with.

there was a box on your bed.

you stare at it, wondering where it came from. you couldn’t imagine it being from krios or ez or any of the unseelies as krios decreed that no one was to enter your bedroom without your permission. so, if it was from them, it would have been left outside your door or in the living area. it could have been from rune, but they would have given that away in about five moments with how obviously they were trying to get you to go back to your room.

that left…

you immediately recoil into yourself, eyes darting to the balcony as if you’d see the assassin lounging there in the dying sun. they’re not, so you allow yourself to focus back on the box.

it’s beautiful from what you can see. made of old wood, ornately carved with gems inlaid, and silver hinges that seemed to shimmer like moonglow on the water.

you cautiously approach and reach out your hands to unclasp it.

*you do it as quickly as possible, just throwing the top open and bracing for whatever was inside. [+ reckless]

*you do it as carefully as possible, slowly clicking open the clasp and pulling the lid up to look inside. [+ cautious]

your eyes go wide and a scream locks in your throat as you look down at what’s nestled in the blood-red silk lining.

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t move, could scarcely breathe.

that’s when you notice the smooth black card that had been previously overshadowed by the other contents of the box.

you reach out with numb fingers, pick the card up and flip it over to see pretty gold lettering on the other side.

my heart beats for you.

a shiver slides down your spine at the sudden feel of lips against your ear. “do take good care of it, little fae, i don’t have too many of those lying around.”

you spin around to confront them, and find nothing. there’s no one else here.

just you and the thud thud thud of a beating heart in a box.

[jelzorz]

180.

Outtake from the fruit with an obligatory reminder that the crack quartet takes place in the distant future where all concerned parties are consenting adults.

"Did you know?"

Soren glances up. He's been waiting outside the infirmary for a couple of hours now but only because he hasn't been allowed in, and only because of some stupid ancient rule that doesn't really apply. Next of kin only, Apollonius, the caslte doctor, had said, as if Opeli's very life was in danger, as if the only people allowed to see her were those who had something to gain if she—

He doesn't think about. It's unfathomable to him. And then Rayla had said—

"No," Soren mutters. "I didn't."

Callum twitches his lips grimly and slides into the spot next to him. He has not been the best friend to anyone these last few months: not to Ezran because he pardoned Claudia, and not to Soren because he vouched for her, so this... is unexpected. Callum shifts awkwardly like he knows.

"Sorry," he murmurs after a moment. "I've been... kind of a jerk."

"Yeah," says Soren shortly. "We noticed."

Callum grimaces at the impatience of it, but it's been... an afternoon to be certain, and Soren does not have the capacity to be kinder. All he can think about is Opeli, the way she'd screamed, the way she'd collapsed, the way her blood had soaked into the white of her cloak.

He's the father, Apollonius, Rayla had said, and I am ordering you to let him in.

Soren squeezes his eyes shut and hides his face behind his hands. He'd known something had happened. Opeli had been distant for weeks, had barely spoken to him unless she needed to after months of them finding each other in secluded corners and empty rooms. It wasn't as if they weren't aware of the danger of what they were doing but this—

He is no stranger to being scared, but this is something else entirely. This is loss and dread and grief and fear rolled so tightly into one that he doesn't know where one ends and another begins. There is anger there too, that she didn't tell him, disappointment that she didn't feel like she could trust him, and betrayal, worst of all, because he had a right to know.

It's a lot to be feeling all at once. Soren swallows the lump in his throat because he doesn't need any more of Callum's pity on top of it. He's angry at him too, and Ez, and to a lesser extent Claudia, because they'd all be too caught up in their own lives to notice anything or anyone beyond themselves. At least Rayla had asked. At least Rayla had done what she could for Opeli, even if she had kept it from him just the same.

"She'll be okay," says Callum at last. "She'll pull through."

"The baby didn't."

Callum falters. He looks away. "I don't know what to say, Soren," he murmurs. "I don't... I can't even imagine how you feel right now. I'm sorry this happened. Neither of you deserve it. I just... wish there was something more I could do."

Soren scoffs to himself. He knows all too well the lengths Callum would go to for his loved ones. Soren was there to watch him choose Rayla over the rest of the world. He'd fought him over it, the foolishness of it, and now...

"I guess I owe you an apology," he says to Callum at last.

Callum blinks. "For what?"

"For... For all the shit I gave you about the cube. About Rayla's parents. I—" Soren coughs to hide the tremble in his voice. "I get it now. I'd do anything for Opeli too. And if I could change this... If I could make her happy..."

"You do that already, Soren."

"But she still lost it, didn't she?" he snaps. "She's still in there bleeding enough that she might not make it through the night. And I didn't even know, I didn't even try to find out what was happening when she pushed me away, and I—" He sucks in a shuddering breath and realises too late that he's crying and that Callum is watching him with a sad understanding in his eyes. "How do you do it?" he asks hoarsely. "How do you do it knowing it'll hurt like this if something happens?"

"Honestly?" murmurs Callum. "I don't know. When Rayla left..." He shakes his head. "I couldn't let it happen again, that was for sure. I don't know how to be without her and that's what it comes down to, I think. When you care about someone that much, you move mountains just to see them smile, part seas to make them laugh... Trade the world to keep them safe. I think that's just what it means to love. And you do love her, don't you?"

"So much," whispers Soren. "More than I thought I could love anyone."

"I get that," says Callum with a sad chuckle.

The door swings open. Apollonius appears in doorway, haggard and bloodied but altogether relieved and Soren is on his feet before he even starts talking. "She's stable," he reports. "She gave us quite the scare, but she's going to be okay. You can go in now, Captain."

"Give her our best," says Callum. "We'll be here when she's ready. And if you ever just... want to talk, I'm here."

Soren pauses in the doorway and studies him. It's not an offer Callum has ever made in the last but... there's understanding between them now. Common ground where there used to be none. "Thank you," he says quietly.

Callum smiles a little. "Any time."

Soren is certain he means it.