#so so so much of my life is fully in my hands and I just need to TRY and START and GO. I know this. I’m incredibly aware of this

[kamaluhkhan]

WE DESERVE A SOFT EPILOGUE, MY LOVE.

pairing: vi x firelight!reader word count: 2k summary: after years of thinking her dead, ekko brings vi to the firelight base. you don't really know how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. warnings: arcane level angst + lesbian yearning. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns. reader has tattoos and a star-shaped birthmark behind her ear (y'all know vi loves a nickname and i thought 'stargirl' was v cute so i had to make it work). fic gets slightly suggestive at the end ;) author's note: happy act iii release day!!! i wrote this instead of working on my thesis oops. in my defense, vi has sparked something in me that i simply cannot ignore. i'm also working on a werewolf! pitfighter!vi x vampire slayer!reader fic (set in the same universe, just with a slight twist) sooo that might be done before part 2 of this fic (which is where the smut happens hehe). anyways, thank you for reading!

inspired by that quote: "i think we deserve a soft epilogue, my love. we are good people and we've suffered enough" by nikka ursula

even after all these years, vi is still the first one to notice you. 

her eyes widen as she hesitates to pull away from ekko, but you clear your throat to catch both of their attentions.

“i thought we were gonna question her together.”

ekko wipes a stray tear from his cheek and stands up a little straighter. 

“you were taking too long,” he shrugs. “don’t worry — she’s clean.”

you trust ekko’s judgement, but you still can’t reckon with the fact that vi is alive. you’d splashed cold water on your face just before to make sure you weren’t dreaming. 

“i don’t know.” you walk closer until you’re standing arms length from vi. “the vi i knew wouldn’t be caught dead with a topsider, let alone an enforcer.” 

you examine her carefully, and you imagine she’s doing the same to you. vi looks more grown up — stronger and sharper. you’d spent so much time in limbo, not knowing if she were alive or dead. you aren’t sure how to react when the girl you grew up loving is now a woman you know nothing about and still, somehow, feel everything for. 

“i guess the shoddy undercut is a pretty clear give away,” you deadpan.

vi quirks an eyebrow at you. “shoddy, huh? you know, your tattoos look like they were drawn by blindfolded children.”

she smiles, all bright and toothy. the scar on her upper lip stretches, achingly familiar, and you decide there’s nothing you want to do more than to bring her into your arms, to bring her closer, so you do. 

her hair tickles your cheek as you whisper:

“i did those tattoos myself.”

vi chuckles, and you feel it vibrate across her body to yours.

“i know. they’re beautiful.” her index finger traces the star-shaped birthmark behind your ear; you shiver. “i was just messing with you, stargirl.”

vi was the only one who ever called you that, said you made her life brighter or some other sweet nothing that would effortlessly fall from her mouth.

gods, she was the first one who even noticed that birthmark on your skin. 

“i was messing with you, too. the hair — you look hot.”

you feel her heart beating faster against your chest as she smiles into your shoulder.

she’s here.

she’s not some ghost from your past.

she’s really here. 

you’re so overwhelmed by how solid she is against you that you start to pull away, but vi catches your hand before you can fully untangle yourself from her. 

“that’s all i get?” she wonders, licking her lips.

you’re tempted, very tempted, to give her more. maybe you would have, until ekko clears his throat behind you.

“should i….give y’all a moment?” ekko asks. “i’ll go get the piltie.”

you then remember who vi came here with; she might not be working for silco, but you stand by your suspicions at her bringing a topsider to the lanes. 

you slip your hand from hers. you roll your shoulders back as if that would really shake away the hold she’s always had on you.

time has passed. things have changed. neither of you are kids anymore, and you don't have the luxury of indulging in a frivolous crush.

“it's fine, e. let’s show them around.”

“still a night owl, i see.”

vi finds you perched on one of the trees highest branches, surrounded by firelights as you sketch something. you close your sketchbook instantly and place it on the other side of you when vi sits down.

“thought you’d be in bed with that enforcer of yours.” 

“her name’s caitlyn.”

“caitlyn,” you scoff, shaking your head. 

the bitterness you try to hide is all too transparent to vi, who has to bite back a laugh at your pettiness. 

“you say her name like you’re gonna hex her. never pegged you as a jealous ex.”

“technically, we never broke up,” you point out. 

a firelight lands on your hand, and you let it crawl up the lines etched on your skin. 

“if that’s the case, i owe you an apology for cheating on you when i was in prison.”

you frown, but say nothing, your eyes following that same firelight as it illuminates your tattoos. 

“don’t worry, i’m kidding!” vi pauses. “mostly.”

the firelight flies away, and you huff out an annoyed breath. 

“whatever. i don’t care who you’ve fucked, or who you’re fucking. and, you don’t owe me anything. it’s not like we’re anything to each other, anymore.”

vi sucks in a sharp breath — she wouldn’t have expected such harsh words from you.

“is that why you can’t even look at me?” she finally asks.

you’d been strictly business since you first reunited hours ago. you expertly distanced yourself from vi all throughout the tour of the firelights’ base, and throughout dinner, too. 

where’s the girl she’d spend hours goofing around with, who always had a witty response to her sarcastic remarks, who smiled at her in such a way that made her chest glow? where’s the girl who brightened vi’s life when it seemed like the darkness would never leave?

“i don’t know,” you admit. “part of me still can’t believe you’re alive. i know that i should be happy that you are, but i keep thinking about everything i could have done to protect you, and powder —”

“hey. it’s my job to worry about everyone, remember?”

“you weren’t here.”

“i am now.”

she gently moves your chin so that you face her, so that you can see that she’s not going anywhere, at least for tonight. 

which is probably more time than either of you thought you’d ever have together again.

vi notices how your eyes flick down to her lips and back up, and she feels something spark in her chest. but then, you shake your head as though trying to wake up from a dream and turn away once more. 

“that enforcer of yours —”

“she’s not my —”

“whoever she is, she talked about how we all need to heal. i just keep thinking about what you’ve been through, what we’ve all been through…. how it never really stops. healing would be nice, but it’s hard when you have to keep fighting every day. you remember what ekko said, about why we chose this place?” 

of course, she remembers. 

“that if even a seed can survive down here, maybe we could, too.”

 “we. who’s ‘we,’ vi?” you laugh, but there’s no joy behind it. “we’ve gotten used to surviving without each other. maybe it was meant to be that way.”

“that’s not fair.” 

“a lot of things aren’t fair.” you gesture around at the base. “this — this community — took blood, sweat, and tears to build and i just know how easy it would be for someone to destroy it all. which is why we fight, obviously, to protect all this and each other, but i’m scared that we can only do so for so long before we burn out.”

you press your knees to your chest and curl into yourself. vi notices then — the slump of your shoulders, the shadows beneath your eyes, and just how deeply exhausted you must feel, down to your bones. 

you let out a shuddery breath. “is it even all worth it?”

vi swallows the tears building in her throat. you had always been the hopeful one, and it makes vi’s chest ache to think about what you must have endured to lose the brightness that had been woven into your being. 

that's part of what got her through these past few years, and there's no way she's going to let it fade.

“i....i think so,” vi starts, trying to find it within her to be inspirational. “maybe it'll make a difference in the long run, even if we don’t see that now. maybe someone, someday in the future, will be able to not just survive, but live in a better world.”

you raise an eyebrow at her, and vi swears there's a slight smile on your face.

"what?" she asks, her cheeks heating up.

"i'm just...surprised. how is it possible that prison made you less cynical?”

there's a glimmer to your eyes that wasn't there before, something playful, and vi decides to lean into it.

"oh, it wasn't prison," vi says, nudging her shoulder against hers. "see, i ran into this pretty girl from my past and she's this totally badass freedom fighter now, so i think there's some hope in the world."

you snort. "good to know you're still an unbearable flirt."

"i thought you loved that about me."

you laugh, a sparkling sound that vi wishes she could carry with her wherever she goes. it’s contagious, too, and vi finds herself giggling along with you. when it dies down, you rest your head on her shoulder, something you did even back when you were only friends.

“i missed you,” she admits. 

“yeah?” your voice is softer than a whisper. 

you lift your head and vi cradles your face in her hands.

vi nods. “so fucking much, and i want to prove it. if you’ll let me. please.”

“vi,” you exhale. she’s so close now that she can feel you breathing against her lips. “i can’t. you’re with that enforcer.”

“we’re not together,” vi assures, bumping her nose against yours. 

she leans in ever so closely to kiss you, but you move away. 

“you’re still with her, though, and you’re leaving in the morning,” you continue. “things are already so….complicated. i just don’t think we should start something we won’t be able to finish.”

with nothing more to say, you gather your sketchbook and pencils. vi’s sure that you’re not going to bed, just off to nestle into another hiding spot for the night, away from her.

maybe you’re still putting up a cold front, protecting yourself because that’s how you've been surviving in this world where the risk of losing everything lingers, and only gets heavier as you grow older.

but, gods, vi really has missed you, the you she remembers so vividly, the you that shone through just moments ago. she knows that glowing heart of yours is hardened by layers of ice, and she’s determined to make them all melt away.

so, vi gets up, heart beating in her throat, and calls after you:

“haven’t we already?” 

you stop in your tracks. you slowly turn around to back at her.

a moment passes, maybe more. the two of you suspended in time. your eyes are telling her a million different things – you’re confused, you’re scared, you’re tempted, you’re tired – and all vi can do is unsuccessfully blink back more tears because it’s true, how your story together never got the happy ending you deserved. 

“please, y/n. if this is our second chance, even just for a night —”

she’s cut off by you crashing your lips against hers.

the two of you were young, really, just girls when you first kissed. it was awkward and messy and though it ignited something in the pit of vi’s stomach, it was nothing compared to this.

she lets you guide her as you please, lets you press your warm body against hers against the trunk of the tree. she lets your lips mold into hers until her lungs are burning. 

your chest is heaving as you pull away slightly; vi bites back a whine, feeling empty. but air isn’t what she needs, she’s sure of it. what she really needs is more of you.

you study her like a work of art, like you're committing her to memory in case she slips away. your thumb wipes away a fallen tear, across the tattoo on her cheek. 

fuck, no one's held vi this tenderly since, well, you.

“you’re so beautiful.”

vi blushes, becoming increasingly flustered. she'd wanted to make this about you, take care of you in all the ways she'd imagined, but the way you're looking at her, touching her....she's not a religious person, but vi thinks she might have stumbled into her own, personal heaven, with you having some divine hold on her, soft and bright and passionate.

you're kissing down her neck, nipping at her collarbone when you repeat: "you're so fucking beautiful."

“yeah, i know. they should build statues of me,” she breathes, closing her eyes and trying to keep upright on weak knees. she squeezes your hips in an attempt to keep herself steady.

you’re the only person vi can recall calling her beautiful. 

sexy? oh, yeah. charming? definitely. hot? often. 

no one else calls her beautiful, though, let alone makes her feel like it the way you do.

“bad at flirting and full of yourself," you tease. "some things really don't change."

by now your lips are travelling lower, and vi doesn't want to miss a second watching you have your way with her. when her eyes flutter open, vi gets a glimpse of something over your shoulder.

“hm, i guess drawings are a good place to start.” 

she gestures with her chin, which she instantly regrets as you pull away to follow her gaze, eyes landing on the sketches of her from your fallen sketchbook.

“you weren’t supposed to see those,” you groan. "they're personal...."

it's cute, how flustered you get after making vi all hot and bothered.

vi smirks. "personal, huh? had some fun picturing me when i was gone? missed me so much you had to draw me back to life?"

"well, no - wait, yes, obviously, i missed you, but --"

vi cuts you off with a searing kiss.

she tugs on one of your belt loops to bring you closer to her. vi presses her thigh between your legs, relishing in how your mouth opens in a perfect gasp. vi takes the opportunity to bite your bottom lip and you whimper.

“don't be embarrassed, baby," vi mumbles against your mouth, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hips. "you know i missed you, too. 'cept i'm not talented like you, so my creative imagination had to carry me through some long nights."

“is that so….” your hand slips underneath her tank top, and you manage to pull a groan from vi by scratching your nails against her stomach. “maybe you can clue me in to what, exactly, you’ve imagined.”

vi grins triumphantly. she places a kiss on your birthmark before whispering in your ear:

“sure thing, stargirl.”

[help-itrappedmyself]

Dead on Main short part 2

This was not supposed to be this long. It just kept getting longer, just kept going. I found a cut-off point eventually, but there may actually be a part 3 to what was supposed to be a very short little piece. Whoops. (part 1)

Jason never had the time to be concerned about his words when he was young. Neither did anyone else around him. His dad couldn’t be bothered with anything to do with him, and Jason would have been surprised if Willis actually knew what his words were. His mother was more confused by them then anything else, and even then that was only in her rarer sober moments.

Then Jason moved in with Bruce. Dick wasn’t around much when he lived in the Manor. He had just started tolerating him when Jason had died. Dick probably knew what the words were, but they had never discussed it with each other, and Jason couldn’t begin to guess what his opinion was on them back then. 

Bruce used to entertain his fantasies of trying to think up different scenarios his words could be said in, both of them trying to make the funniest good outcome. It became a game they played when bored on stakeouts, obviously keeping the contents of the words private while playing. To be fair, there were a lot of good and funny scenarios. But they lived in Gotham, and Jason had experienced enough of the world, even at that young age, that he understood the likeliness of a bad scenario.

And then he died. And he didn’t think about his words for a very long time. Too busy training and plotting. Busy coming back to Gotham, enacting his plans and building a criminal empire. He barely remembered them himself until he was back in Gotham, operating as the Red Hood, with a trail of bodies behind him.

Assassin training, heads in a duffel bag, counts of arson, and leader of a gang, Jason was not the same kid he used to be. There were few scenarios in which his words could be said that he couldn’t come to understand. And he was at a point in his life where he could find room for a soulmate again. He was settled, secure as the anti-hero of Crime Alley, tenuous agreement with the Bats and all. He had even been by the Manor to have tea with Alfred. 

Arkham breakouts were old hat to everyone in Gotham. Citizens bunkering down, and Bats readying themselves to round up whoever made it out this time. However, this was the first Arkham breakout since his plan with Bruce and the Joker failed. The first since his agreement with the Bats to use non-lethal means. When Jason heard that it was the Joker that had broken out, he planned to kill him, truce be damned.

The Bats could probably deduce that, it was too soon into the truce for any real change to have been made. And this was the Joker. So now it was a race to see who could get to him first. 

Luckily (in this instance), Jason’s base is much closer to Arkham than the Bats. So while they are all stuck driving in from the better parts of town, Jason is already chasing the Joker down alleys. 

Joker is laughing, practically skipping away as if this is a game, and Jason almost loses him as he turns a corner he didn’t see. Jason can hear the Joker laughing, starting to speak. Probably to taunt him again. Then the sound cuts off with a choke and a thud.

Jason turns the corner to see Joker laid out flat, nose bleeding and neck at a funny ankle. A choked breath escapes him, and he looks around to see a man leaning against the alley wall.

The man’s hands are shaking, breaths choppy, and there's a bit of blood on his right hand.

Jason takes a deep breath, which causes the man to look at him out of the corner of his eye. Jason takes in the scene again. And then again, hardly daring to hope even with the evidence in front of him. 

“Is he dead?” Jason asks softly. The man turns to face him, and Jason takes a glove off and slowly, hesitantly, checks the Joker’s pulse.

“Look, in my defense…” The man trails off, looking to the heavens for a moment. “I really fucking hate clowns.” 

Jason, hope fully settled in as the Joker remains still and lifeless on the ground, pulse non-existent against his fingertips, almost laughs. Then his brain does a record scratch. Rewind. Replays the words ‘Look, in my defense’ over again, head shooting up to look at the man who just killed the Joker. 

Jason takes his other glove off, standing. He takes a step towards the man, pushing up his sleeve. The man seems nervous at his advance, watching him warily until Jason uncovers the words on his arm. The cover falls to the ground behind him as he takes another step forward. 

The man’s eyes light up in realization, and he also rushes to push up his sleeve. One more step forward and they are right in front of each other. Arms held up, brushing together as they show each other their marks.

Left forearms pressed together in the space in front of them, one reading ‘Is he dead?’ and the other “Look, in my defense.’. 

The man laughs and Jason takes in the sound of it, the happiness in his eyes as he looks up at him. Jason slowly reaches up to remove his helmet, domino still on underneath it, and lets it fall to the alley floor as well.

“You’re amazing.” Jason breaths out, hand reaching up to cup the stranger’s, his soulmate’s cheek. “You have no idea what you’ve just done for me.”

“Little bit of manslaughter.” He laughs. “Didn’t think it would be received this well.”

Jason smiles in response. “I would worship you for this, if you’d let me. I will never stop thanking you.” 

“Oh.” The man gasps, breath hitching. Jason, one hand still on his cheek, thumb stroking underneath his eye, places his other hand on the man’s waist and backs him up to the alley wall. Deliberately slowly, watching the man as he takes a deep breath, licks his lips, and lets himself be moved.

“Tell me your name and I’ll start right now.” Jason whispers.

“Danny.” The word is breathy and low, only heard due to Jason’s close proximity. 

“Danny.” Jason repeats his name like an anthem and a prayer. Prepared to give his life for this man already. And then kisses him, pressing his lips to his softly, reverently. Wanting to hold this moment forever.

[martiniblues]

juno ; spencer reid

pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader

synopsis while babysitting henry for jj, spencer’s seeming disinterest with children starts to shift. this makes your mind wonder into unfamiliar territory you and spencer hadn’t spoken of yet: kids.

genre talks of pregnancy and children (duh), very suggestive towards the end but no smut, this is very self indulgent since i can’t get this song or spencer off my mind so here you go lol.

wc 2k?? (i got a little carried away)

“sorry for this being so last minute!" jj scrambled, passing henry over to you along with his diaper bag. the blonde ran a hand through her short hair, adjusting from where the two-year-old played with it upon their arrival. 

“it’s all good, seriously. you know how much i love babysitting this cute thing.” you tickled henry’s side, making him squirm. 

jj’s eyes averted to the figure behind you, pursing her lips. “you sure he’s okay with this?” you turned your head, noticing spencer trying to look at the two of you without being noticed. 

it’s not that spencer didn’t like kids; it’s just hard to know how to talk to them when you were a child genius. 

you turned back to jj, attempting to ease her worry. “he’ll come around to it.” you shrugged, knowing that spencer would either sit and observe or fully engage. no in between.

after bidding your goodbyes, you walked over to spencer, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “so what should we do, little man?” you perched henry in your lap, resting your feet on the coffee table so he could sit against your perched thighs. 

spencer looked at you as if he were the “little man” in question. henry just babbled, throwing his arms around as you cooed. “what do we do with him?” spencer asked, leaning closer into your shoulder to inspect the baby in your lap. 

you laughed at his seriousness, turning to look at your boyfriend. “have you never been around a baby in your life or something?” you teased, lifting henry so he was closer to you both.

“did you know that babies are born with about seventy reflexes? that’s why when you place a baby on a surface to stand, they automatically start doing a stepping motion.” he spoke, watching henry kick his legs as you stood him on your lap. you looked over at him quizzically. “for someone who’s so awkward around babies, you sure do know a lot about them.” 

spencer flushed slightly, “i just haven’t had the chance to be around any until now.” he nudges your shoulder before crossing his arms. 

“well, here’s your chance.” you held henry out to spencer, which made him squirm and mumble yet again. “hold him while i go bring his bag in here.” 

he hesitated, looking between you and the baby as if this were a test. yet, despite the nervousness, he reached out, mimicking your position earlier. when you were content with how henry laid on spencer’s legs, you walked out of the room.

you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposely take your time collecting his things, wanting spencer to have some alone time with henry. finally satisfied with your departure, you peaked your head into the room, nearly melting at the sight. 

the once stiff and nervous spencer you had left with henry was now replaced with a content, smiling one. his voice went up a few pitches as he responded to henry’s nonsense. “oh wow, really?” his lips were pulled into a smile as he played with him, letting henry’s small hand encase his slender fingers. 

you couldn’t help but let your head wander; how could you not? sure you thought about a future with spencer. a future where you were married and maybe with kids, but you had never brought it up being too nervous to scare spencer off.

but now watching him light up with henry in his lap, you wanted nothing more than for your daydreams to become reality. 

“someone wants you back in here, i think.” you snapped out of your daze, focusing on the two sets of eyes staring at you. both holding the same smiles and wide eyes. 

god, you swore you felt your ovaries jump.

“i see that you two are getting along now.” you placed henry’s diaper bag on the table, sitting yourself on the ground before laying out his blanket and a few toys. spencer joined you, placing henry on his stomach, then laid beside you, mirroring the baby’s position. 

“who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?” you laughed, in awe of how much spencer had adjusted to the small being in just a matter of minutes.

he looked up at you as he shook a little plushie in front of henry’s face. “sorry to disappoint, but this is still your boyfriend,” spencer quipped before you pushed his head jokingly, messing up his hair in the process. 

the sound of high-pitched squeals took both of your attentions away from one another. there henry lay, clapping his hands in favor of you and spencer’s playful fighting. 

“yeah, you like when i show him who’s boss, huh?” you caressed the soft skin of henry’s cheek, making him giggle. spencer sighed, “come on, man, i thought we were really becoming friends” he exasperated, laying his head in his hands dramatically.

this only brought more squeals from the baby, making your cheeks almost grow sore from how hard you were smiling. 

“awe spence, it’s okay.” you egged on your act by petting his hair back into place. this caused your boyfriend to lift his head; a big pout on his lips made yours perk up. 

with your attention being taken away from henry by spencer’s rare expression, you hadn’t noticed the stuffed animal caught between the baby’s hands. before you could do anything, the small bear was chucked into spencer’s face, causing an uproar of noises from henry.

“i’m starting to question this whole babysitting thing.” spencer winced, looking at you as you laughed along with henry. 

 

despite the teasing from earlier, spencer continued to be enamored with henry. him even insisting he help feed and change him when time came.

the whole ordeal feeling so domestic, apart of you wished jj could have spent a couple more days for her and will in favor of you seeing spencer like this for longer.

“thank you, again for taking care of him.” jj propped her hip against the counter as she fumbled for her phone out of her purse.

“of course, it really was no problem.” you turned at the sound of spencer’s soft voice, thanking henry for “helping” him clean.

“honestly, i think someone enjoyed this a bit more than we thought.” you gestured at spencer as he settled henry on his hip, the baby grasping onto his button-up shirt. 

your whole body ran hot at sight. spencer looked really good as a pretend dad. 

“no kidding, the team is going to flip when i show them the pictures you took of them.” she glanced at her phone, noting the off-guard photos you stole of spencer and henry. 

one was of him feeding him as he walked around the living room, another of him explaining some of the books organized on his shelves in a very formal fashion despite henry’s lack of knowledge, and finally one of them eye-to-eye playing on the floor with various toys. 

your heart swelled looking back at them, the questions you had been so careful not to ask begging to be verbalized. 

before you could sink any further, spencer came over, handing jj henry and his bag almost reluctantly. noticing the time, jj was quick to leave in order to keep the baby’s sleeping schedule on track but thanked you guys repeatedly before finally closing the door. 

clicking the lock shut, you mentally prepared yourself for the words about to come out of your mouth. 

“you had more fun than you bargained for, didn’t you?” you met spencer on the couch, him reaching out to pull your legs over his, making your heart leap. 

“i did, actually.” spencer began smoothing his hands up and down your calf before continuing. “honestly when you mentioned henry coming over, i was a little- i don’t know scared? i just didn’t want to disappoint him or you.” he bit his lip like he was stopping himself from letting the whole truth out. 

“oh spence, you were perfect. honestly, i’m very proud of you.” you reached out, caressing the side of his face, causing him to look at you. 

he noticed your wondering eyes, waiting for you to continue. “actually i um…” you shifted pulling your legs under yourself so you could sit up. 

breathing in deeply, you continued, “today kind of got me thinking about us and our future.” spencer was looking at you with such admiration that you had fixed your gaze on your hands.

“i know we haven’t really brought it up before, but seeing you and henry today had me-“ 

before you could finish, spencer’s lips were pressed against yours, resulting in a shocked gasp from you. he kissed you, mumbling words each time his lips parted to take yours in again. 

“i want that, i really do.” he breathed, finally separating from you for just a moment. 

“you want what, spence?” you were in shock, to be honest, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it word for word. 

without another word, he positioned you in his lap, legs straddling his own. “i want a family with you. i want a sliver of what we had today to become ours one day.” his eyes didn’t break from yours, his pupils blown wide and sparkly.

for the thousandth time that day, you had to bite back a smile. “you mean that?” you questioned, one hand coming to comb through his hair and the other resting on his neck. 

he kissed your cheek, forehead, nose, and finally your lips before he spoke. “every single one. i mean, one of you is cute.” he cupped your cheek as he spoke. “but two though? that’s something.” he finished, smirking at you. 

you couldn’t contain your happiness, crashing his lips to yours again feverishly. even though you knew the both of you were in no place to have a kid now, there was no harm in playing with the fantasy for now. 

even if the real thing wouldn’t come to be for a good few years.

spencer pulled you flush against him, one his hands leaving your hips to trail up your spine and settle onto the back of your neck. a moan slipped past your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. 

you pulled on his shirt, hinting at where this was going as if it weren’t obvious to the man beneath you. he looked up at you, kissing you once more before dragging you to your shared bed. 

your blouse and shorts were off before your back hit the sheets, spencer still standing ahead of you unbuttoning his work shirt. 

you sat up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to take over. after each undone button, you kissed his skin, making him gasp as his fingers raked through your hair. 

pulling his shirt all the way off, you made your way to his pants, pulling him closer by his belt loop. you bit your lip, noticing the gears turning in his head.

“you know statistics say missionary or doggy are the best positions to get pregnant in.” spencer let out in shallow breaths as his belt clinked on the floor. 

“oh, yeah and why is that genius?” you leaned back on your elbows while spencer finished removing himself of his pants. he took you in, the tiny pink bow on your underwear made spencer rethink his crude response. 

“deeper penetration,” he said almost too smoothly, making you laugh. it was hard to take statistics seriously when you were both nearly naked. 

before he could settle above you, you shimmied up the bed. ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you positioned yourself on your hands. looking over your shoulder, you saw the way spencer’s eyes widened in shock.

it’s not that you and spencer had never had sex; it was just very vanilla. with this new-found desire, though, that switch flipped. 

“have you ever tried this one?”

my first spencer fic omg. lowk crazy because i’ve been obsessed with this man since the ripe age of 12 but here we are. will probably be writing a lot more of him since im rewatching cm at the moment so stay tuned! request box is always open <333

[rokkit-story-time]

"L-look, I just... I wanted to chill out for a few days, yeah? Cats are a good form for that!"

I nodded slowly as I kept petting. The slow, gentle strokes along his fur seemed to be helping. "And now you've forgotten... how your power works?"

"No!" It was less a shout and more a whine. I decided to assume it was the cat body changing the quality of the voice. "I... I don't have a 'default' or anything, you know? I don't just 'shift back' to my original self, I actively turn *into* it each time. A-and now I'm..." They tuck their nose between their paws. "...I can't picture what I looked like clearly enough to change..."

Oh. "I have some pictures of us from a year or two back. Would that help?"

He looked up at me and blinked, then lowered his head back onto the couch. "Yeah... yeah that should be enough to go off of. Now all the panic feels a little silly..."

I didn't reach for my wallet right away. "I mean, you couldn't have known when I'd come over."

"Yeah, I guess, but even if it was a little uncanny, I could've turned back into something with hands and sent you a message asking..."

"...so why didn't you?" There was something else here. I could feel it. So I started nudging. "And before you say you were panicking too much, you've been silent for *days*. That doesn't seem like a short-term lapse in judgement."

"W-well, I was still enjoying being a cat up until yesterday!" The protest was weak; there *was* something else going on. "A-and..."

"And... you didn't want to change back?" I offered.

"No! M-maybe?" They tensed like they wanted to flee, but slowly relaxed again under my continued reassuring scritches. "I want to change back into a *human* again, b-but..."

I looked at them with a smile and nodded. "But...?"

They looked at me, then shifted to rest their chin on my leg. "...remember last year? At that club event?"

They paused, so I nodded and continued for them. "I wanted a possible hookup and you decided the discount was worth it, so we ditched the faux-het-couple routine by you turning into a girl." I tried to keep any smugness out of my encouraging smile. They were different that night, and no amount of excuses had made me forget just how.

"W-well, I, um... th-that was the first time I'd ever done that." They refused to look at me, but I nodded anyway. "But it... w-wasn't the last? I-I mean, it was the last in... in public..."

They seemed to have trouble continuing, so I offered another nudge. "...but sometimes you'd do it again in private...?"

"...yeah. I... I tried out different looks and body types. A few of them I really liked. And sometimes, I... I caught myself wishing I could wear a look all the time. While going about my life, you know?"

"...why can't you~?"

They raised their head, and even the cat features managed to look utterly incredulous. "What, do you want me to out myself as a shifter!? Or are you suggesting I fake my own death or something?"

I couldn't help but laugh as I shook my head. "Nothing that dramatic! C'mon, you can be subtle. Call up a therapist, talk about your feelings a bit, get a prescription for some new medication..."

"...so like... actually transition...?"

I nodded. "If that's how you feel, then yeah." My smile widened as I scritched under their chin for a moment. "In case it wasn't clear, I'm here for you and will always support you fully. And I say you should do what feels right!"

"M-maybe. But that whole plan feels, I dunno... a little disingenuous?"

"So you can pass better than most and won't actually need any HRT or any surgery. Does that change who you want to be?"

She laid there for a long moment before responding. "...no..."

I nodded, still alternating between head scritches and long pets down her body. "...have a name in mind~?"

"...Coral..."

"Damn, you picked a pretty one~" I flopped back against the couch. "You've really been thinking about this ever since that night at the club, huh?"

"...yeah..." She was silent for a few more moments before speaking up again. "...sorry. I... I should've talked to you about it before now. I kept meaning to! But there was always some excuse I'd give myself, and then I wouldn't be able to speak up, and..."

I just nodded. "I get it. Kind of a shame, though... I could've asked you out waaay sooner."

"You... what!?" Watching the cat body language take over as she suddenly leapt up and backwards made it *really* hard not to laugh, but I held it down.

"Well yeah, remember how I kept saying I wanted to make sure I only left with the cutest girl at the club? Well, the cutest girl at the club that night was *you*. But I couldn't just say, 'hey you should turn yourself into a girl more so we can date' or anything. Glad I didn't too, or I wouldn't get the chance to see what other cute looks you've grown attached to~"

"Y-yeah, I-I guess you're right!" The panic in Coral's voice was similar to when I'd first gotten there, but somehow much more gay this time. "I uhhh, I should probably go change then!"

I patted my pocket as she dashed for the stairs. "Need that picture~?"

She stopped. "...no. Not right now, at least." She looked back at me with what I could only assume was the cat version of an emotional smile. It was *adorable*. "Thank you~"

I just nodded again as she turned and zoomed up the stairs, excited to see what she might look like when she came back down.

Your friend, a shapeshifter (a secret you've kept since childhood) hasn't answered your texts in days, so you head to their home. Upon arriving, you find that they're in the middle of an existential crisis; they can't remember how to turn back into their original, human form.

[sweetpupii]

currently thinking about sleepy sex with ellie :(

omg fnnfnfdnjdn 😖

cw - somno

ellie who cannot keep her hands to herself even while she's falling asleep, needs it. the warmth, needs the feeling of your skin, she needs to be as close as humanly possible if not more.

you barely had any time to get under the covers before her hands automatically found their way under your shirt, palm on your stomach to tug you closer—calloused fingers stroked lazy shapes against your skin. her front flush against your back, lips messily meeting your shoulder with a low hum.

baby had to wake up earlier than usual for patrol and was so fucking tiredddd </3

“my hand's not cold…” the sound of her voice was muffled against your back and as much as she denies it, her hand is definitely cold, freezing I dare to say. this woman is an ice cube most of the time. with that body temperature she might as well be liquid nitrogen pretending to be a person.

( and she takes advantage of it to cuddle. )

“ellie, I swear—get your hand away,” you shot back, trying to squirm away from her cold grip, but it only made her tighten her hold, pulling you even closer.

“mm, stop moving,” she whined, her tone dipping into that sleep-drunk whimper that made your resolve crumble most of the time. “you’re warm… feels nice.” her nose nuzzled the back of your neck, lips brushing your skin.

ugh, so stubborn and clingy.

don't blame her if she starts to grind against your ass while spooning, she just wants to be warm! and honestly it's her body acting purely out of instinct.

it's not just to fuck, it's to soothe herself to sleep.

her hips moved in small, unthinking rolls, completely involuntary, like her body was acting on autopilot. she wasn’t fully there—her needy murmurs were barely coherent, breath hot against your neck as she clung tighter.

even if there's no direct contact she lets out little, groany whimpers on your neck while her hand stills its movements every now and then. hazy mind unable to focus on doing multiple things at once. she's awful at multitasking when eepy.

all she can think about is feels good feels good feels good and how her hand goes to grip your hips, you could be dead asleep and her body keeps moving. the hot, tingly feeling in ellie's lower abdomen making her unable to stop. she'll apologize for her horny actions in the morning with extra kisses!

if you're awake enough to turn around though? ugh, she goes insane.

puffy lips finding your own in an instant, the kiss sloppy and desperately uncoordinated. she goes at it like she's starved, like she'll die in her sleep if she doesn't kiss ( eat ) you right now. her thigh situates itself in-between yours to rub there, feeling the already sticky mess dripping from the fabric of your underwear onto her skin. she’s so grateful for every decision she took in her life that led her to wear shorts as PJs.

the movements don't have any pace or rhythm—she's too tired for that—but they don't stop, she doesn't want them to and the little sounds you make show that you don't want that either.

she feels your thighs clench around hers and the way your hand grips her shirt, the smooth skin on her thigh coated with arousal.

“so good…” ellie muttered while the wet, messy open-mouthed kisses trail down your neck. they start to go a bit slower and less frequent than before as she grows more and more tired. the whiny sighs slipping from your lips sound like a lullaby to her barely conscious brain.

her panties are still soaked but her poor body can't keep going for longer. her own orgasm will have to wait until tomorrow because she's out like light the second you come.

night night. ♡

[yeyinde]

i would give you my life for marriage counselor!reader x price part 3, pleaseeee im begging you 😮‍💨🙏😮‍💨🙏

He fucks you in your office, for sure.

18+. extremely dubious consent. unk. condescending Dom!Price.

Petty, combative. Authority figures make him itch. But there's a sick thrill that goes through him when he sinks down into your chair, fully dressed with just his trousers undone, cock freed, and pulls you, completely naked, onto his lap. Makes you ride him as he sprawls out over it, too; his hand tight around your neck to keep you up, the other dangling over the edge, drinking from the sneaky stash of booze he finds after rummaging around your desk (all the while, he had you sitting on top of it, one hand rifling through your belongings and the other buried between your thighs, making you answer his inane questions as he tuts about how you're getting his cuffs all wet, not such a smart little girl now are you? soakin' his hand like that. needy little thing, more like.)

It's not his preferred position, but he likes the sight of you glaring down at him as he fills you with his cock. Unable to to do anything at all even when you're on top, in the dominant role. Reduced to a mess of a once smart, haughty girl. Biting your lip as he bucks into you. Trying to smother the scream, the plea—slow down, slow down, please, it's too deep—that trembles on your lip. Pride and this fickle, paperthin ideal of agency is the only thing keeping it all in.

You think you can take him. Handle him.

So, John gives you the reigns and leans back on your smart little chair in your smart little office. Accolades hung on the wall. Polished and mature. It's all so—

Adorable.

The contrast of it all feeds the monster in his chest that's been prowling around ever since you tried to boss him around. The mouth that once said you're not trying hard enough, Mr Price you need to do better now all slack-jawed and drool slick as he spears inside to the deepest part of you he can reach; the doleful glare swallowed by the shiver of your lids as your eyes roll back into your pretty little head.

Struggling to take him. Hesitating to slide down the thickest part of his cock, whimpering when he shifts his hips and makes you take him down to the root. Tears flood your lashline, gleaming iridescent like sunshine hitting an oil spill. Lips trembling as you jolt at the realness of it all—of trying to handle him like you said you could but quickly realising you can't when the heart of yourself starts to feel like a raw, open wound.

Yeah, he thinks, and brings the bottle to his lips. You look so much better just like this.

And that's what it's about, really. Control. Something you stripped him of when he marched into your office and you—younger, less experienced, less established—just looked at him, and said, sit down right there, Mr Price.

Well. You didn't say it, did you? No, you commanded. And Price doesn't take orders from idiots in office who think they're his superior, so why the hell should he listen to you, mm?

But he did. And now he's savouring it because this is quid pro quo. Something for something. His compliance (ephemeral as it was) for you.

Because the problem is that you riled him up. With your neat, clean office. Your smart suits. The unbidden air of authority—this condescending, sophisticated cloud that clung to the haughty tip of your chin when you talked to him. It all itched under his skin. Made his heart thunder with the urge to break—

(Claim, maim—sometimes he gets the two mixed up, the word eliding together under the malformed snarl in his throat. But you're tough, aren't you? He's sure you can handle whichever one ends up spilling out.)

He bites down on the little sliver of skin beneath your jaw—that small patch where his hand, still spread over the thick of your throat, doesn't cover—and groans, feeling you clench tight around him. Tight little hole barely stretched enough to take him without it aching each time he moves, tugging on thin, sensitive skin until he has to snuff the whimpers he can feel crawling up your throat with a squeeze of his hand.

It has the after making his head swim already. When he finally finished getting his due, breaking you in, he'll take you home. Let you rest. Court you good and proper until you're melting his hands, softened wax for him to play with and mould however he likes. And he will.

He saw the potential in you the moment he leaned in close—too close, his ex-wife will accuse him of later; you never get that close to me anymore, John—and saw the shift of your throat when you swallowed. The flex of your thighs as you squeezed them tight together. The little flutter of your lashes, eyes listing treacherously downward, so achingly close to submission that it punched the air from his lungs. Kept him winded even as you pulled yourself back together. Meeting his stare with a glare of your own. All fire, all teeth. But he'll enjoy filing your canines down until they're pretty and soft and round—

"mm, not so arrogant now, are you?" He pulls you closer, nips at the thrill of your pulse until he feels it thudding against his enamel. Rabbit-quick. Ferocious lioness purring at his feet. "S'all you needed was my cock, mm, to make you this sweet?"

He doesn't expect an answer, and can really only groan when you eke out a liquid, breathless, fuck you, John, content to let you lash out as much as you want, holding you tighter in the cup of his palm. Pussy clenching tight, tears dripping down your cheeks—he basks in it even as you claw at him, pawing at his chest with your teeth bared as you pretend this is your choice. That you're taking from him with each unsteady, furious roll of your hips. Pulling him in deeper. Letting the part inside of you that rages against this hew fantasy into reality; cobwebs of delusion thickening in the whites of your eyes as you shatter over him, on his lap, stuffed full with the thick of his cock, and play pretend in your head that he's just your throne—

Even as he kicks his heels against the legs of your own, planting his feet on your carpet, in this space you build yourself, driving inside of you until the webs shake, starting to come loose.

You—this free, willful bird—have been left in the wild for too long. And he'll spend the next two months building your cage, and when he's finally finished, you'll beg him to throw away the key.

"Told you, didn't I?" he growls, hand tightening around your throat. "You were in over your head, little girl. You should have listened."

(Freshly divorced—ink still wet on the paper—and he's already engaged. How about that.)

[archangeldyke-all]

Oh man I have ideas..

Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.

Or..

Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.

Or..

Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.

Toodles!!!

EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)

men and minors dni

you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.

you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.

"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.

"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."

"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.

"i'm here regarding your wife."

you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.

"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.

you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.

she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."

"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.

shoola chuckles. "no."

"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.

"what could i want with a child? no!"

"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.

"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"

"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.

"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"

you do.

it's an excellent proposal.

as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.

the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.

and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.

"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.

you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.

she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.

"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.

"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"

"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."

sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.

"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."

sevika blinks. "what?"

"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."

sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.

sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.

you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."

"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.

"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.

sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.

this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.

(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)

"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"

"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.

you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"

"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."

"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"

"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.

sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.

"anything else?" shoola asks.

sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.

"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.

sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.

tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.

"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"

"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.

the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.

the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.

your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.

each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.

it's the best night of your life.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed

[thinemoonshine]

୨୧ 𝓼𝐮𝐥𝐤𝐲 𝓼𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲! ୨୧

—⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ where enhypen messed up and has to turn (y/n)’s frown upside down…or they get the unfathomable horror: the silent treatment

enhypen hyung line x fem!enhypen 8th member content(s): light angst, dramatic members, clingy lovey enha, sunghoon gets bitten, (y/n) being doted on, fluffity fluff, they are so lovesick boys coded here type: imagines

note: this work is based off of ૮꒰ྀིthis꒱ྀིა ask! i tried to make it ot7 but i cannot, for the life of me, imagine (y/n) arguing with the maknae line. so sorry about that!! </3

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆

heeseung's large doe eyes shift towards (y/n) from the TV screen much too frequently as they both sit at opposite sides of the couch. their distance is only a leg's length away but the frostiness in which (y/n) portrays makes it seem as if a single inch will give him frostbite.

who knew that eating the last ice cream could create such catastrophic casualty?

heeseung. heeseung knew. and yet he still did it.

it was a fair deal, the eight each get their own flavour of ice cream so that no arguments would ensue but (y/n), unlike the others, had to leave hers because she had a schedule—excited to have a cold, refreshing dessert after coming back.

but lo and behold, she comes back to a freezing, barren freezer—much like her stomach.

the culprit: lee heeseung himself, who claims that he assumed that (y/n) didn't wanna eat it.

and what did that get him?

pure, utter silent wrath—which he finds much, much scarier than the loud.

"(y/n)..." heeseung tries for the fifth time in the past 15 minutes and still, she's managed to act as if he isn't there. never before has she been so upset and it daunts him. how long is she gonna stay like this? it's only been minutes and he's already feeling like he's about to perish from her frigidity. "(y/n), i'm sorry. i'll buy you more! what ever type you want, as much as you want!"

now that gets him a reaction—although, different than what he expected.

she turns to him and he's just about to smile only for the corners of his lips to drop at the sight of her glare.

"you think that's gonna fix everything? of course, we can buy some more, that's obvious! that's not the problem! the problem here is you eating my food!" (y/n) seethes, brows knit and eyes sharpened. "do you know how exhausted i was after my schedule? i was so excited to go home and rest with my cold sweet snack to freshen me up but then suddenly, GONE."

heeseung cowers, hands gathered on his lap as his big, round eyes widen guiltily, brows droopy and bottom lip subtly sticking out. "i'm sorry...i just thought that you didn't want it anymore..."

the sound of her exasperated sigh only increases the weight in his chest but it becomes ten times worse when he sees her slumping back against the couch to not speak to him again.

no no no no, she was already talking to him! now, it's just gonna get worse.

"i should've asked first and i should've told you that i ate your ice cream," heeseung quickly says, fully determined to gain her forgiveness despite being just slightly prideful before.

he bites his lip, practically chewing on it but then perks when he sees her glancing at him. mustering up his courage, he scoots a little closer and feels hopeful when she doesn't seem to mind. "and! and i'll let you do yaja time for the whole day if i ever do something like this again."

now that, she likes. turning her head slowly with her crossed arms loosening, a small cheeky smile appears and gosh, does the sight of it lightens him so much.

"no take backs," she confirms to which he nods at with a tight lip grin of surrender but the moment she cheers and wraps her arms around him, he knows he'll let her have yaja time anytime if she only just asks.

heeeseung chuckles against her ear as he reciprocates the embrace before she pulls away to lie on his lap to which he takes advantage of to play with her hair. he knows how much the gesture relaxes her—hoping that it'd be enough to rid off her exhaustion.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆

this is it. this is the end for him.

never ever had he ever thought the day would come—the day that (y/n) and him argue.

it’s not as dramatic as he makes it seem but it sure is for him considering how he and (y/n) are always on the same page. so to have them turning the other way from each other is disastrous.

this morning, the two were making breakfast together alongside sunghoon and riki after they lost a game. jay and (y/n) were in the kitchen while riki and sunghoon were getting the stuff from the nearby mart.

all (y/n) wanted was to wash the dishes but jay, ever so gentlemanly jay, insisted that he do the dirty work while she just get the tools ready.

call it morning moodiness or whatever, but (y/n) was not having it.

“what’s wrong with me doing the dishes?” (y/n) asked, brows knit with slight irritation.

“nothing. it’s just better for me to do it while you get the stuff for cooking ready,” jay answered.

(y/n) crossed her arms. “and why is it better for you to do it? oh, so apparently i’m bad at cleaning now.”

“i never said that!” the other denied, a frown present as well.

“then let me do what i wanna do,” the girl adamantly said to which jay sighed heavily at followed with a frustrated, “can’t you just stop the attitude?”

and that was when the horrible, bone-eating, mind plaguing, day-nightmare started: the silent treatment.

it’s afternoon now and jay can’t seem to find (y/n) anywhere around him—like he’s some sort of personal virus to her. the clothes he’s folding has never felt more heavier and the stacks he’s made are messy, barely proper squares of folded clothing.

usually, (y/n) would be around to accompany him—making hot drinks and bringing snacks to feed him since he has to keep his hands clean. he’d be sitting with soft hums leaving him every once in a while as she talks his ears off.

and sometimes, when there aren’t any undergarments in the basket, (y/n) helps with folding too—undoubtedly making even prettier stacks to which jay is both proud and jealous of.

her absence is palpable. and the silence is anything but tranquil—stifling and ridiculing him for being such a coward.

beep beep beep beep!

his head snaps towards the door at the sound of their automated door lock. are the members home already?

and in comes a—no, the member: (y/n).

she nearly pauses in her tracks when she steps into the living room, inevitably making eye contact with jongseong but she’s quick to feign indifference—and it hurts. little does she know that he feels the same if not more.

“…where are the rest?” jay initiates a conversation and (y/n), with her back on him as she puts down her bag on the counter, subtly loosens up. her stiff shoulders relax just at the mere sound of his voice.

“they’re filming some tiktok challenge. didn’t feel like joining,” (y/n) answers and jay intends to ask more about it but is interrupted by her swift “i’m sorry.”

his eyes widen subtly, brows raise and he watches as she slowly turns to face him with her hands pressed on the counter she leans against.

“i know you were just trying to give me the easy work by doing the dishes. i shouldn’t have been so worked up,” she apologizes sincerely, tone heavy with remorse and jay smiles softly at that.

then, he puts away the towel he’s holding to spread his arms wide open—tender gaze melting her significantly so and she approaches with airy steps before being pulled by jay into him.

jay sighs as he buries his face into her hair while his fingers comb through comfortingly. his other arm is securely wrapped around her waist as she reciprocates the hug.

“don’t. don’t apologize. after all, i should’ve let you do what you wanted,” jay assures as he leans back slightly so (y/n) can comfortably rest against him—his arms practically engulfing her whole into his chest and he can’t help but feel a flutter.

it feels…nice to just hold her close like this. to feel her warmth, to hear her gentle breathing, to be reciprocated so endearingly and just be so uncritically affectionate of one another.

he smiles at that as he feels the life being rekindled in his soul and spirit, arms tightening around her.

“…i don’t feel like doing the dishes now, though.”

“we’ll dump it on the rest.”

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆

he’s never felt such anguish before. sure, this situation’s reminiscent to when the members cast him aside for his birthday surprise but that ended on a happy note.

this? this he doesn’t know how it’s going to end.

he didn’t mean to, he swears. he just got o too competitive with the game that he ended up neglecting (y/n)—pushing her away when she wanted to share some insight because he thinks his way is the best.

sure, he got his victory, but at what cost? in the end, it still feels like he lost.

they’re now hanging at (y/n)’s apartment during their once in a while visits considering she lives separately. but the hostess herself isn’t around. she’s locked in her room ‘to sleep’, she said, but jake’s not buying it.

he knows she’s probably mad at him for this morning’s en-o’clock recording and is refusing to even look at him. the thought makes him nervously gnaw on his bottom lip as he distractedly stares at the others playing with the jenga block.

cheers and groans erupt in the room when the build falls and jake stands on his feet, unable to take the tension in his form and the loud noises in his head, and heads to the hallway where (y/n)’s room and bathroom are at.

away from the members’ eyes, he then softly knocks at her door and her instant, “who is it?” solidifies his theory of her being fully awake and avoiding him.

his brows knit and tilt at the ends, dejection growing, before he answers. “it’s…jake.”

a pregnant pause before the door swings open to reveal (y/n) who seems rather indifferent, a complete juxtaposition from the other with shifty, nervous puppy eyes that plead for entry.

her stepping aside and widening the gap of the door mean permit to which he quickly yet gingerly accepts.

she hasn’t even closed the door yet before he instantly spouts, “i’m sorry.”

the door clicks behind her and she leans against it to face jake who’s sitting so politely at the edge of her bed—legs pressed together, back straight and hands on his lap as he looks up at her through long overgrown bangs.

“i’m sorry, (y/n). i-i didn’t mean to…” is all he says before lowering his head and clenching his fists.

the sight both warms and aches her to which she reacts with a sigh—instantly alarming the other who snaps his head back up to see her approaching. he tenses, ready to apologize again, ready to mention the full details on how he shouldn’t have been so hard-headed and selfish and—

oh.

his eyes shut unconsciously when her fingers gently rake his hair back to free his beautiful eyes and forehead. he nearly forgets the words in his head from the pure relief and delight that fills him.

lashes flutter as he slowly opens his eyes back to sweetly gaze up at (y/n) with a look she truly believes to be criminal with how overwhelmingly adorable it is—puppy eyes searching hers for comfort, cheeks glowy and lips pouty.

he makes her want to physically squeeze him until he pops!

so she does—as much as she can, anyways.

hands cup his pretty face as she squeezes just enough to put pressure and make his lips stick out like a pufferfish’s.

a little confused “hm?” sounds from jake as he furrows but the sight of the smile on her face instantly evokes his own—breaking into a wide grin with the corners of his lips curling as he stays between her palms practically buzzing with glee.

“just don’t do that again,” (y/n) warns and he nods vigorously before shutting his eyes again to fully melt into her hands.

if only she knew how close he was to just bawling his eyes out if she rejected his apology. he can’t imagine living without her attention like this.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆

ice and ice. truly ice ice baby—but with a negative connotation.

sunghoon and (y/n) almost never argue, the two always having similar outlooks or just accepting the other but this time, that wasn’t the case.

the rarer the arguments mean the heavier they are whenever it happens. and it’s so painfully blatant because everyone can sense and see the tension that stretches between sunghoon and (y/n).

one slight pull and it might just snap!

it’s hard to miss, of course. the way his eyes narrow at her and the way her gaze shifts to a glare, the way she steers clear of his space just as he does to her and the most obvious one of all: he doesn’t dote on her like how he usually would.

sunghoon, self-proclaimed (y/n)’s big brother, would always show his affections in one way or another. whether by making sure she’s fed, or by doing his favourite habit of putting his whole hand on top of her head—fingers sprawled and all as his palm covers her crown.

it doesn’t even have to be a pat or anything—just grabbing her scalp and voila! that’s it.

so the fact that he hasn’t done it at all today, is a dead giveaway on their argument.

and so obviously, the members had to send them both on grocery duty. sure, they all went together but they’re so adamant in asking sunghoon and (y/n) to search for some specific stuff on the list together.

“what type of sauce do they want again?” (y/n) asks monotonously, not even bothered to look at sunghoon while stands a few steps away with his hands in his jacket’s pockets.

he pulls the list out. “***** brand.”

the girl hums and chooses it before passing it to the other without making a single eye contact. sunghoon, obviously, returns the favour.

and this routine goes on and on until eventually, sunghoon’s had enough.

he can’t do this. not anymore. not another second of this torture. he feels as if his heart is being torn apart before being harshly shredded to pieces and finally being blended into a juice of depression.

seeing (y/n) so unfeeling around him is so foreign. he hates it. he doesn’t want her hating him. no, that’s the last thing he wants. he can’t digest that.

it’s clear when it starts bothering him because sunghoon’s beginning to glance at her every once in a while. when previously all he wanted was to ignore and be ignored, now all he wants is to see and be seen.

whenever (y/n) puts stuff in the trolley, his eyes follow her every movement. when she asks him for the things on the list, he answers with his gaze set on her—hoping she’ll turn away from the shelf and onto him. and when he sees her favourite snacks, he quietly yet excruciatingly slowly puts it in the cart with a silent plea for her to notice.

and she does. but she doesn’t comment.

still, she isn’t heartless. so she asks, “we finished the list. you want anything else?”

“for you to forgive me,” sunghoon murmurs but the emptiness of the isle they’re in amplifies it.

she finally looks at him, surprised, and it’s doubled when she sees him already looking at her.

he wears a solemn yet sad mien. the bobs of his adam apple expose the vulnerability he feels and (y/n) lets out a deep breath before walking towards him.

“i’m sorry,” he says genuinely and his hand twitches by his side as he restrains from reaching out to pat her head.

it’s not overlooked by the other however, and instead of verbally responding to his apology, she instead cups his hand in both of hers—his flinching at the sudden hold—before she lifts it up to put it on her crown.

sunghoon breaks into a slow grin—eyes upturning and one corner of his lips lifting higher than the other into an endearing smirk—before he ruffles her hair, only to fix it back after.

he chuckles from relief but it’s cut short by a brief grunt at the sudden chomp on his arm. his eyes are wide and lips agape as he stares at (y/n) who’s latched her teeth onto his arm that’s raised to caress her head.

he blinks. she blinks back before slowly pulling away.

“forgiveness tax.”

and all he can do is shake his head with an amused scoff at her absurdity.

“i guess i deserve that.”

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

a/n: happy no shave/no nut november! an anon had asked about this challenge for william and i couldn’t resist. 😇 thanks to the anons that helped out on deciding on the prize! enjoy and get ready for so much more fic fun to come!

word count: 4.8k

tw: so much smut, dirty talk, masturbation (f and m) but not finishing, fingering (f recieving), nipple play, use of toys, creampie, edging, honestly it’s a no nut november fic so it’s just porn without plot (let me know if i missed anything)

summary: between william taking part in no shave november and no nut november, you think you’re going to go crazy. who knew the month could feel so long?

“I hate November.”

Your whine is obnoxious even to your own ears, childish and petulant. You kick a foot out on the mattress for good measure and William laughs.

“Älskling,” he coos, coming over to the bed and wrapping a hand around your ankle. He tugs gently and you slide easily down the mattress towards him. “You didn’t have to agree to the bet.”

“Yes I did,” you grumble, kicking your other foot at him. He catches it easily in his free hand and then suddenly, you’re trapped, both of your legs held in the air before William pulls you forward again and has you wrap your thighs around his hips. His hands are warm on your skin, calloused fingers stroking gentle, lazy circles. You’re fully aware that, with your legs spread like this, he could easily get his hands on your cunt and can probably feel the heat radiating from between your legs.

Your clit gives a painful throb, untouched and desperate for him.

Nearly three weeks without sex and you’ve never been hornier in your entire life.

It hadn’t been bad at first, and then you’d been on your period and the thought of being touched at all was repulsive. But now you’re rapidly hurtling towards ovulation week and it’s nearly impossible to be in the same room as William without wanting to jump him.

William’s keeping his lips zipped, but the second you find out which one of his godforsaken teammates decided a No Nut November bet was a good idea, you’re killing them.

Of course, you’re partially to blame since you’d laughed at William and told him “how hard can it be? To not have sex for a month.” So he’d made a bet with you, challenging you to take part and not come for the whole month and do the challenge with him. You’d agreed, not really deciding on what the winner gets since you’d figured that you would be able to outlast your boyfriend and would just make him do whatever you wanted anyway. Maybe you’ll make him do all the laundry for a month.

What you’d conveniently forgotten was that No Nut November coincided with No Shave November and William’s rocking a moustache that shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does.

“You did this to yourself,” William laughs, torturing you by running his palms up the inside of your thighs and stopping inches from where you need him the most. “You can stop any time.”

He knows you can’t, knows you’re stubborn as hell.

You scowl at him, completely disagreeable with the lack of orgasms. Your whole body feels tight and like a live wire. Any touch might be enough to send you over the edge.

Frustratingly, William doesn’t seem to be as bothered as you are. Sure, he’s been walking around with some aggressive erections, his thick cock prominent against the front of his pants when he’s home with you. But he’s been like a maniac on the ice, racking up goals and assists at a pace that rocketed him to the top of team’s point sheet.

“I don’t know how this isn’t frustrating you,” you mutter, kicking your heel lazily against the top of his ass. You’re satisfied to see the shape of his cock press against his jeans, thickening slowly. “Shouldn’t you be all cranky and blue balled?”

“Trust me, älskling,” William grumbles, “my balls are plenty blue. But I get my frustration out on the ice. If I’m scoring a goal or whatever, I’m not thinking about how fucking horny I am or how badly I want to fuck you into the mattress.”

You let out a little squeak and your legs instinctively try to close, blocked by William’s bulk. He grins wickedly when your thighs flex and you nearly cry when his hand snakes up and his fingers press against your core, plastering the fabric of your panties against your wet cunt. You wiggle, trying to get away from him, but all it does is make your clit pulse and arousal drip more steadily down the seam of your ass.

“Williammmmm,” you whine, kicking at his back and reaching to pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist falters when his fingers press down harder, a gasp punching from your lungs.

“You’re so wet, huh, my girl?” He murmurs, dick twitching in his pants. His gaze is locked on you, watching as a wet spot forms on the fabric, soaked through your panties and onto your shorts. “If you asked nicely, I could make you come right now. Just a few presses of my fingers against your little clit and you’d feel better.”

It sounds so nice, relief from the achy fire that’s consumed your body for three weeks. Getting rid of the lust fog in your brain too would be helpful. And he’s right, a quick twitch of his fingers against your clit and you’d probably be a goner. But then you’d also be a loser, and you refuse to be a loser.

“No, no, I’m fine,” you manage to choke out, breathless. Your hips move on their own accord and you know you need to get him away from you soon or you’re definitely going to lose.

“You sure?” He laughs, stoking you lightly.

You nod, biting hard on your tongue. William’s lips are curled up in a wicked smile that immediately turns into a frown and a grunt when you shift your leg and angle your knee so you can press the heel of your foot against the hard bulge in his pants. He grunts again when you press down, smiling sweetly at him.

Shoe’s on the other foot now.

“I could take care of that little problem you’re having,” you murmur, getting relief when he finally moves his hand off your cunt to grab your ankle again and pull it away from his dick. He lets you rest the sole of your foot against his stomach and moves his other hand to block access to his dick.

“You know my problem isn’t little,” he retorts, pinching the top of your foot and making your toes twitch against his shirt. “If anything, it’s getting bigger by the day. You’re going to have a massive load to take when this is over.”

You whine and wriggle on the bed, your core clenching desperately around nothing. “Stop, you’re playing dirty,” you complain. “It’s not fair when you do all the dirty talk looking like that.” You wave your hand in the vague direction of his face.

“Oh yeah, ‘cause you walking around in that skimpy ass towel for an hour after you got out of the shower two nights ago was all above board and clean play,” William drawls, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t seem to realize that his hand is working absently over the fly of his pants, his gaze flickering between your legs and back to your face.

“Yeah,” you shoot back, yanking your ankle away from his grip and rolling away from him, “because I’m just a girl and I can’t be held accountable for my actions.”

You get to your feet, still half draped over the mattress, and wince at the uncomfortably wet feeling between your legs. A cold shower and change of clothes will do wonders for your mood.

William rolls his eyes at you, his hand still moving over his cock, and you’re tempted to let him continue so you can win. But one of the dogs barks out in the living room and William turns to the door, hand falling away from his pants.

“Saved by the dogs,” you mutter, grabbing a pair of jeans out of your drawer to change. It’s time for their pre-game walk and you need the fresh air to cool off.

The walk works to tamp down the worst of your arousal and you manage to make it through the game easily enough. Although every time William throws his body against an opponent, you find your face getting warm and your belly flipping. Damn him.

It doesn’t get easier when you’re tucked together in bed after the game, watching TV to unwind instead of your usual post-game routine of fucking until one or both of you passes out. You miss that routine.

“Ah, fuck, stop that,” William grunts, pushing at your hip to put a little space between your ass and his cock. You wiggle, annoyed that he dislodged his half-hard cock from where it was resting in the seam between your ass cheeks.

“I was comfy,” you whine, rolling over onto your stomach. You tilt your head and look at William with wide, pleading eyes and subtly arch your back a little so your ass lifts in the air.

William swats at your ass gently, a bolt of lust shooting right to your clit. “Yeah, too comfy. You’re playing dirty, älskling,” he says with a good-natured smile. The smile twitches his moustache and you sigh, unable to look away from it. All you can imagine is how it would feel between your legs.

You fold your hands under your cheek and lift your leg to drape your thigh over William’s hip. He lets his hand drag up and down your thigh, keeping his touch chaste even as you can see his cock harden in his boxers, tenting and warping the shape of the plaid fabric.

“What if,” you mumble, “we call a draw. We both finish at the same time?”

The perpetual state of horny is starting to make you feel crazy. That coupled with the wave of exhaustion that’s hitting now that it’s the end of the week, you’re ready to jump William and be done with this stupid challenge.

“Say the word,” William’s jaw clicks as he stifles a yawn. It might be insulting that he’s yawning if he hadn’t played a team high time of twenty two minutes on ice and scored two goals. “I’ll make you come in a second.”

“Ugh, no,” you grumble, pressing your face into your pillow. “I want to win fair and square.”

William’s blunt nails scrape against your skin and he drags your thigh higher up on his hip, opening you up to him. “You’re so competitive, älskling,” he mumbles. “‘S what I love about you.”

His words settle warmly in your stomach and you reach a hand out to hook your fingers in the thick chain around his neck, pulling him closer so you can kiss him softly. His moustache scratches at your upper lip and you trace your tongue over his, deepening the kiss even though you know it’s going to drive you both crazy. William’s hand tightens on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin hard enough to bruise, and you’re both breathless when you break the kiss.

“When you lose, I want my reward to be sitting on your face,” you mutter, huffing a faint laugh out of your nose. William pinches your thigh and you swat at his hand.

“Fuckin’ tease,” he says, tone full of frustrated affection. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and drags you closer, wrapping his arms around your back to keep you in place. You won’t fall asleep like this, but it’s always nice to be tucked up close to William, with his heartbeat thumping steadily under your cheek and his fingers tracing nonsense patterns on your skin.

William’s gone early the next morning, with a kiss to your lips and a light spank to your ass, off on a road trip that’ll keep him away from you for nearly a week. He’ll be home again on the twenty-sixth, with just four days left in the month. The temptation is mostly gone with him, your libido getting a reprieve when you aren’t able to look at his face every day and imagine it between your thighs.

He does his best to tempt you, sending voice memos and photos that have your hands drifting below the waist band of your pajama bottoms when you’re in bed, like a horny teenage boy desperate to jack off. You honestly hadn’t realize that you could even be this horny, your previous boyfriends never inspiring this kind of lust or arousal.

Of course, you give just as good as you get, replying to his messages with pictures of your own featuring new lingerie sets in the royal blue of the Leafs’ jersey. You’re particularly proud of one picture that gets William calling you immediately to complain about playing dirty. You can hear the schlicking sound of his hand choking his cock through the phone and you click your tongue.

“I hope you’re not going to come before the end of the month,” you sing-song. “I thought you had better willpower than that?”

“Älskling,” he groans, a strangled noise, “I’m just about ready to end this shit and fuck you until you scream. My dick is so fucking hard, it’s goddamn painful.”

“Forfeit and I’ll take care of you when you get home tomorrow,” you offer, stomach flipping when you hear his hand’s continued movement. William grunts directly in your ear and the noise shoots straight to your clit, making it swell and throb.

His familiar chuckle draws you back to the conversation, “no way. There’s only five days left in the month. I’m not quitting now, I’ll just take another cold as fuck shower.”

You grumble, annoyed that he refuses to forfeit and impressed by his willpower. November thirtieth is going to be a night for the books.

It’s a bad idea, you know, tempting fate and all that with William expected home in a few hours. If he catches you, if you go slightly too far, you’ll lose the challenge and William will know that you were too horny for your better angels to prevail.

But you miss the feeling of his cock wedged tight in your cunt, filling and stretching you to your limits.

Besides, knowing that it’s risky and you have to keep yourself just at the edge of the orgasm is making your heart beat fast in your chest and your cunt get slick.

You’re comfortable on the bed in nothing but one of William’s t-shirts, the faint remnants of his cologne infused in the fabric. With one leg bent and your foot planted on the mattress, you circle your clit with two fingers, relaxing back against the pillows. It’s light pressure, but enough to get the bundle of nerves swollen and wet. Arousal drips from your entrance and you know there’s going to be a puddle under your ass even if you don’t finish, but you spread your legs a little more and cool air hits your flushed skin.

All of your nerve endings are on fire and you haven’t even started with your toy. It’s shorter and narrower than William, but it’ll do the job in a pinch. When he’s away, you use it more often, no reason to use it when you have the real thing. But you’re at the end of your rope and need the feeling of something filling you, even if it’s just silicone.

It’s just a little plastic cockwarming, you rationalize. You’re not actually going to come, just edge yourself into insanity since you’re already half feral with arousal.

The first press of the toy against your entrance takes your breath away and you work your hips a little frantically over the silicone, soaked and panting with each little push. Your clit twitches and throbs, walls fluttering around the toy as you settle it in place with a final nudge.

“Fuck,” you whine, breathless and trying not to clench around the length of silicone. You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, imagining it’s William’s hot, throbbing cock nestled inside of you, imagining that you’re keeping him warm in a reward for your delayed orgasm. Just the feeling of being stretched out is better than you thought it would be, after so long with nothing to satisfy you.

You whine his name involuntarily, carefully fucking yourself with the toy to make sure you don’t get too close to the edge. Your stomach muscles clench and your fingers brush against your clit, sending shockwaves of electricity throughout your body. When it’s too much, you stop, leaving the toy half in your cunt, arousal dripping down the curve of your ass.

The sound of your heavy breathing is filling the room and you’ve got an arm thrown over your face, heat radiating off your body. Your hair feels damp from sweat and you haven’t even gotten to come. It was a mistake, to edge yourself so much because now you’re feeling even more twitchy, frustrated with the pit of your stomach in knots from holding yourself back.

Your legs feel limp, too heavy to get up and you close your eyes. There’s still a couple of hours before William is home and you need to bring yourself back to a baseline so you focus on your breathing, twitching around the silicone half buried in your cunt.

A warm chuckle rouses you, working its way through the fog of sleep cloaking your brain. You hum and stretch, dislodging the toy from between your legs slightly, a spark of electricity racing through your veins.

“William?” You mumble sleepily, cracking one eye open.

The shape of him is fuzzy around the edges, but you catch the upturn in his cheeks that means he’s smiling at you and the way his arms are crossed over his bare chest. You blink again and he comes more into focus, the grey sweats hanging low and loose on his hips, the hair on his chest fluffed in the way you know means he ran his hands over it roughly after his shower.

“Sleeping Beauty’s been naughty, huh?” He chuckles and you wrinkle your nose at him, still half asleep until he leans one knee on the mattress and reaches his hand out to nudge his knuckles against the base of the silicone dick that’s half buried in your cunt.

You’d nearly forgotten about it and yelp when it shifts an inch or two further inside of you and try to snap your legs shut. William’s reflexes are faster and his other hand grabs at your knee, holding your legs wide open. His grin is positively filthy as he takes in the mess between your legs.

“I didn’t come,” you inform him primly, fisting one hand in the duvet cover.

“Oh yeah?” William clicks his tongue. “Just sat here like a good girl and edged yourself?”

It’s clear from his tone that he doesn’t believe you and really, why should he? Especially when you have the evidence between your legs and drying smears of arousal on your inner thighs.

“Mhm,” you hum, wriggling away. William’s grip is tight on you, his fingers dancing around the base of the toy, twisting it ever so slightly. You hiccup a gasp.

“Seems like a silly way to lose the bet,” his voice is low, raspy. Deft fingers continue to twist the toy inside of you, making your clit swell and your stomach clench. “Coming on a plastic cock instead of mine. But, if that’s how you want to lose…”

He trails off and pushes the remaining few inches inside of you, punching a gasp from your lungs and making your back arch off the bed. You shout and scratch at his forearms, shaking your head. “No, no,” you murmur. “Wan’ your cock, William!”

It’s torture, the way he slowly fucks the toy in and out of you, your walls clenching and arousal dripping down the curve of your ass. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling as you get closer and closer to the edge. William murmurs filth to you, leaning over your body. His cock is thick and hard behind his sweats, and you can feel it twitch where it’s pressed against your thigh.

“Beautiful, my beautiful, dirty girl,” he coos, using his free hand to push the fabric of your stolen shirt up your stomach until it’s bunched up under your chin and your breasts are free for him to play with. He leans down and alternates sucking each nipple into his mouth, his moustache scraping against your skin and his tongue circling each nipple until they’re tight and painful.

“Please,” you whimper, bending your leg and opening yourself wider for him. “I’m done, I quit.”

You can’t stand it any more, the lack of orgasms is making you crazy. It’s not worth winning. Not with William’s dirty mouth running in your ear and his cock hard against your thigh.

“Mutual,” he grumbles, shoving his sweats down with one hand and you gasp, nearly relieved, when you feel the velvety soft skin of his shaft against your thigh. The wet head of his cock slicks against your hip and you arch into him. “Stupid challenge anyway.”

In one quick motion, William yanks the silicone toy from your cunt and replaces it with his cock, your indignant whine morphing quickly into a wanton moan. He fills you to the brim, balls slapping against your ass and clit rubbing against the coarse hair at the base of his dick.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, lifting your knees to his sides and meeting him thrust for thrust. It’s not going to take long for either of you to come like this, spiky hot pleasure already building low in your stomach.

“Fuck, fuck I love this pussy,” William growls, burying his face in the valley between your breasts. The scrape of his moustache and stubble are going to leave makes all over your skin, but you can’t wait. “So goddamn tight and wet, squeezing my cock. Fuck, älskling, so fucking good. Gonna fill you up, gonna make you feel so good.”

You’re not even sure if you’re saying actual words around the noises you’re making as the head of William’s cock batters your g-spot, thickening and swelling inside the tight grip of your cunt. You wail when he presses his thumb against your sore, swollen clit and kick a foot against his back, making him grunt.

He latches his lips around one of your nipples, tonguing at it until it’s stiff and puffy. You arch your back, pressing up into his mouth and the coil of pleasure tightens in your stomach.

“Please, please, oh my god, please William,” you chant, scratching at his back and moaning when his hand splays over your stomach and presses down, the pressure making you see stars behind your eyelids.

“Gonna come, älskling, almost there,” he mumbles, adjusting his angle to hit even deeper inside of you. “Gonna come together, yeah? Me and you, right now, go ahead. Come on, prinsessa, come all over my cock.”

William rubs circles around your clit and you can feel his cock twitch and thicken, bumping up against your g-spot to finally send you over the edge. Your stomach clenches and starbursts dance behind your eyes as the force of your orgasm hits. Above you, William groans and his hips stutter, coming at the same time you do. He fills you, his hips pumping and his fingers working at your clit so you’re both shaking and panting heavily. Beads of sweat roll down his temples and you can feel the sheen of sweat all over your skin.

Your legs tremble with the aftershocks of your orgasm and William finally finishes emptying inside of you, more than he ever has before and putting your IUD to work.

He collapses on top of you, forcing the last little bit of air left in your lungs out in a harsh exhale. You huff a laugh, running your fingertips over the sweaty, muscled planes of his back, enjoying it when he laughs as you tickle at the spaces between his ribs.

Your legs are locked around his back, his cock still hard inside of you and you rock slightly under him, fully relishing in the feeling. His chest hair is soft against your skin and you try to shimmy around so you can keep feeling it rub against you.

“We’re never going this long without sex again,” William mutters into the crook of your neck. His cock twitches inside of you and he flexes his hips. You can feel the warmth of his come when it’s pushed out of you, making you shiver a bit.

“Stupid challenge,” you agree. The fabric of your shirt is still bunched up under your neck and it’s choking you a bit, but you’re too sated to move. William works his hand between your bodies and toys with your breast, scraping his thumb nail over the sensitive point of your nipple. You clench around him and he grunts. Your clit still feels swollen and sore and need builds up low in your stomach. “I need another, Will.”

His mouth is lazily sucking a mark against your collarbone and he releases you with a wet pop. Propping himself up on one elbow, William grins down at you with a hungry look in his eyes. His hair is messy and damp with sweat. “We need to make up for lost time,” he replies, sweeping his hand up and down your stomach, brushing his fingers close to your clit to see if he can get your hips to jerk. A twitch of his hips has his half-hard cock slipping in and out of your slick cunt, an almost obscenely wet sound filling the room.

You nod, taking your fingers through his chest hair and down through the trail below his belly button. His stomach muscles jump under your touch.

“I think we can be conservative and say I need at least twenty more,” you grin, clenching around him to watch his face twist up in an expression of pleasure. “When you take into account the travel days and whatnot.”

His laughter is bright and loud and he tweaks your nipple. “Greedy,” he murmurs. “Let’s start with three and see if we can beat that record first.”

You let your legs fall to the side and open yourself up for him. Grinning wickedly, you reply, “do your best, Mr. Nylander.”

An hour and a half later, after you’ve gotten two more orgasms and William washed your hair for you in the shower, you’re curled up against his chest with an icy blue Gatorade poured into your fancy Anthropologie glass.

Your legs are shaky, but you’ve never been more content in your life.

“I would say I’m sorry that you lost the team’s challenge, but,” you shrug, sipping at the drink, “I’m really not.”

“Eh, worth it,” William replies. “Only a couple guys left anyway. Hell, even Kniesy lost back in week two and he’s the idiot that suggested it.”

You gasp, shooting up in the bed and nearly spilling your Gatorade. “I’ve been in the orgasm desert because of Matt and he didn’t even have the decency to WIN the challenge?”

William laughs and shrugs. “Yeah, he kind of sucked at it,” he replies, tugging you back against his side, “I think it’s just Mitchy, Domes, Tanev, and Woller left.”

“Wait,” you frown. “What was the prize for winning?”

“We each kicked in one-fifty,” William rolls his up to the ceiling and squints while he does the math. “So, three k? Plus winner gets a steak dinner from Reavo since he was the first to cave and we all have to kick in for the winner’s golf club membership for a year.”

“Jesus,” you roll your eyes. “What is it with you guys and the steak dinners? And if I had known that these were the prizes, I would’ve held out another four days! I thought it was just like a pride thing.”

William laughs again and you let him pull you onto his lap, settling right over his cock. “Älskling, none of us would do this shit if it were just pride on the line,” he says seriously, resting his hands on your hips and letting his fingers dip below the waistband of your sweats.

You roll your eyes again and pout, “obviously cold hard cash, steak, and a golf membership were the only three things that could get you idiots to keep it in your pants.”

“None of those things are holding me back now,” William teases, leaning in to pepper kisses against your jaw. “Want me to take it out of my pants?”

The scratch of his facial hair feels good against your skin and you know you’re going to be beyond marked up tomorrow, but you angle your head to the side anyway to give him better access.

You hum, taking stock of the pleasant soreness between your legs and the flicker of arousal pooling low in your stomach. He kisses down the column of your neck, nipping gently at the jut of your collarbone. William’s hips rock under you and you can feel him grow hard and press into your core.

“I think I could go for a fourth,” you grin, gasping when he trusts his hips up into yours.

“Steak dinner is overrated anyway,” William replies, before taking your cup and putting it on the bedside table so he can manhandle you onto your back. “I’ve got something better to eat.”

[azdesertwillow]

Minrathous versus Treviso

I keep seeing posts from both sides of this about how it feels like it's unfairly stacked, particularly in terms of how your companions react to this choice.

But here's the thing, the choices are not a 1:1 parallel so it makes sense that the consequences are not a 1:1 split between Neve or Lucanis.

If you choose to not save Minrathous, the consequences are more intimate. The biggest hit, from a game play perspective while not factoring in companions reactions, is which merchant you have available to you. In the short time I had them during my first playthrough, I was far more attached to the Shadow Dragon's shop keep and her look-out than I ever got in the entirety of my Crows playthrough. You get to hear her story of how she survived the Fifth Blight. And she's not the only backstory you get like this. Much of the early game play in Minrathous is meeting individuals, Neve's contacts, her friends, past clients. It's a person to person connection.

But when you don't come to save them, the Shadow Dragons as an organization are dead. The Viper is blighted, those individuals you've met are either dead, dying, or have gone to ground. I teared up when I found out the merchant's fate. Neve's says her apartment is gone. The Threads move in. Mass hanging. But for the city itself, while it certainly needs restoration and repair, the core of the crisis affecting it is that it's now, essentially, under Venatori occupation, something that Treviso has already been dealing with. There is Blight, and it for sure affects the poor disproportionately, but it's not a universal constant for everyone.

Whereas, if you choose not to save Treviso, it doesn't feel as if you take as big of a hit in terms of beloved NPC's. Viago, Teia, Jacobus are all still alive and as I said, I personally never felt a strong connection to the Crows merchant. And as an organization, the Crows will survive this. Treviso is but one branch of the Crows and they'll recover from this. The intimate, person to person connections loss doesn't feel as large in terms of how they effect your story beats.

But Treviso is dead. They blighted the water of a city that's mainly on water. This will hit everyone, regardless of their station. It will not discriminate, it will kill everyone still there eventually. This is a case of a city full of the walking dead who just haven't fallen over yet. The health and mortality rate will plummet. The birth rate will plummet. They were used to occupation, but how do you fight an occupation within your own body?

Now, in terms of your companions reactions, I'm not factoring in the long term outcomes of the cities post-game or even mid-game as you work to help them. This is just to look at their immediate reactions and the game play mechanics as a result of this decision branch.

To me it makes sense that you get locked out of Lucanis' romance and not Neve's because of the long term realities they are facing. What is directly affecting Neve is raw grief. Those were the people she knew and they're gone now. But ultimately, she knows that those deaths are not on your hands and while it takes a while before she can trust you again, she heals from the grief and pain from the loss of life. Versus Lucanis who just sees the long branching consequences of what has happened to Treviso and knows that he warned you. He warned you that Antiva had no standing military and now his city is dead. And this isn't even factoring in all his personal stuff which canonically he tries to keep you away from him if you do fully romance him. The loss of his city is just the last straw needed to fully shut him down. There's just too much to deal with.

(As for Neve/Lucanis, I think that choice plays more into Lucanis' personal hang ups rather than the Minrathous vs. Treviso choice and this post is very specifically about the cities, not Lucanis' issues).

Now, it's fine if you wish to have that perfect 1:1 consequences comparison when choosing between one or the other. I personally don't like that approach when it comes to things like this because it feels like the writers didn't put deep thought into how this would affect the characters and instead were looking at just how to make it match perfectly and hand wave any characterization that doesn't fit their game mechanics.

But it is my personal opinion that I think it's unfair to say that it feels like a bug or lazy writing or unfinished when to me it feels like the opposite. It feels like they actually looked at the characters, looked at the big picture, and put thought into how this would play out, even if it meant it might tip one way or another. That's a sign of writing staying true to the characters rather than cave in the name of game mechanics.

[lily-onher-grave]

okay okay okay thoughts/excited ramblings about the wicked movie under the cut bc i've seen it and now i'm insane about it again

let's be real it's kinda hard to fumble the opening number of a musical especially when that opening number is no one mourns the wicked and yet i was still absolutely blown away it was SO GOOD

the lil munchkins running, the singing in the streets, the posters of the witch (side note all the artwork was insanely good and just added so much to the style of oz i feel like) it was all so awesome

NOMTW becomes so sinister and they nailed it

obligatory emotional babbling about glinda standing alone in the crowd as everyone sings 'the wicked's lives are lonely'

before i left for the theater i was like 'take your bets on if i'll cry' and my roommate and i agreed that yeah obviously i would. but what i didn't expect is for ariana's sad face to knock me out in five minutes flat. i was done for

the effigy. holy shit. and handing the torch to glinda. i want to go see the whole thing again just so i can rewatch that scene. my heart still hurts

(also nanny! sort of not really. but i liked the childhood scenes i liked that elphaba had one (1) good thing in her life before shiz)

SHIZ okay shiz honestly shiz was the thing i was most excited for bc c'mon, we don't write about our gothic magic school all the time in fic for nothing. and honestly it was so good. the shots of the whole castle! the library design! the balcony moments and the stairways and just like the layers of architecture and the way morrible could kind of be anywhere at any time. the way it felt so grand and yet so small at the same time. idk man the vibes were good and the set was beautiful

glinda arriving by boat was magical that's all

the way everything dillamond had was tailored to him was fantastic it was so good

actually i want to shout out the library set design again and how it tied into the clockwork theme that never gets fully called out even in the musical but it's still so good

where's my time dragon clock tho

also back up the scene where elphaba loses her temper in the courtyard--when she breaks the relief of the wizard, there's old artwork of Animals behind it and i gasped out loud when i saw it

and that was the first moment i thought 'this is brilliant but i still want an hbo dark fantasy political drama tv show based on the book'

speaking of the dark fantasy political drama tv shows, the Animal meeting!! i'm so glad they put more stuff like that in there

actually as a whole the movie felt more grounded and less comedic than the musical. i think they did a fantastic job of keeping the magic and silliness and charm and wonder of the show while still adding those extra bits of drama and dire circumstances

anyway gelphie fic prank wars trope is officially canon great work everybody handshakes all around. i was cackling (silently. i promise i'm a respectful moviegoer)

the ozdust ballroom being illegal makes so much sense. it being underwater was fucking cool. boq and nessa were actually really great and i usually don't care about them at all during this scene

also i love love love nessa and i cannot wait to see more of her. but showing her multiple times on the sidelines when elphie was being humiliated was such a good choice. the tension between nessa obviously caring for her sister yet always caring for herself more is so delicious and i always want to see it fleshed out more, and i think they did such a good job with her? her and elphaba have sweet moments which i love, and her wanting to be independent and only elphaba really understanding that is so so good. and having her just watching elphaba for so long before finally saying she can't watch. god i can't wait to see her be desperate and selfish and cold in act 2, it's gonna be so good

side note boq also looking upset by elphie being bullied. i miss my brotp man

but let's talk about what's most important: the gelphie dance. because oh my god i started crying all over again. so did elphaba. and glinda wiping her tears i'm dying i've died oh my god

i always get a little bit surprised when glinda seems more head over heels than elphaba. idk why. but ariana's glinda is absolutely more head over heels than cynthia's elphaba and i loved it

(they just. freaking LEFT the party. just zipped out of there as soon as they hugged. glinda was like hmmm i just realized some things and grabbed elphaba's hand and ran off while the night was young. and fiyero stared after them knowing that he stood no chance whatsoever)

also i'm like 72% sure the guys sitting next to me were a couple? and they both cried during the gelphie dance too and it was a very unexpected but very funny moment of solidarity

i say ariana's glinda is more head over heels and i stand by it but elphaba's fond little smile when glinda was pouting about sharing secrets almost made me start sobbing again they're so GOOD they're so CUTE and she is SO heart eyes for glinda immediately!!!

i need to be sedated i swear

popular was adorable 10/10 no notes absolutely nailed it i loved every second

also glinda sitting next to elphaba in class now. my heart <3

after dillamond gets hauled away (again with this being more violent and dark and those moments of drama coming through more in the movie i loveeee) glinda doesn't sit down until elphaba does

also they had several little moments of elphaba looking to glinda and glinda either shaking her head or nodding. they've been friends for 2 days and they're already having silent conversations i love them <3

the poppy spell? was sick as hell????

another seeing of wicked, another complete sense of bafflement as to why fiyero is there

i say this jokingly but the fiyero and elphaba romance really does feel like a product of the early 2000s especially now that it's on screen rather than on stage. idk maybe that's just the lesbian in me talking though

the train design is also sick but we knew that from the trailers

okay look logically yes i knew idina and kristin would have cameos. but i'd been crying on and off and one short day's magic had already taken hold so they caught me completely off guard. it was great

the wizard stuff was really sweet. and while i was hoping for more time put toward shiz and stuff, i do think those moments did a great job of 1) showing how much elphaba just wants to be loved 2) foreshadowing the wizard being her father and 3) laying the groundwork for her briefly considering working with the wizard in act 2, which is a decision that never quiteee feels right in the show

i love that they put more lore into the grimmerie btw. very cool

the hot air balloon was random but fun. i wonder if it'll come up again in act 2

every time. every damn time glinda starts singing in defying gravity i just want someone to end it right there. glinda grabs the broom, it fades to black, and they both lived happily ever after

fuck

defying gravity taking place at sunset because it's at the end of their one short day of happiness

also UM morrible coming up and hugging glinda when she's crying. exquisite emotional manipulation i'm screaming

elphie! seeing! her! inner! child! i loved the baby elphie scenes even though i prefer creepy 'horrors' elphaba always. but seeing her come back was sooooo fucking good

elphaba only ever relying on herself, in the end

glinda's final 'i hope you're happy' took me out, as it always does, as it always should. and reaching out from the balcony? i'm sobbing again

morrible dragging glinda into the darkness while elphaba flies into the sun! someone fucking help me i'm already wrecked by these two

honestly my biggest complaint is that now i have to wait for part two, i want to see the rest nowwwww

[burnforyou]

lay all your love on me

pairing: female singer x jack schlossberg

summary: friends to lovers, he falls first, he’s kinda controlling inspired by his instagram stories today.

“y/n,” jack started, then stopped and just stared at you. you look up from the tomato’s you were chopping and lock eyes with him. you can hear your friends continue their conversation in the other room, unaware of you two.

“hm?”

he sighs. you set down the knife you were using and turn your body fully to him.

“jack?”

“y/n, i want to be serious with you.”

you met jack schlossberg 2 years ago through mutual friends. well, artificial mutual friends. unbeknownst to you, jack arranged for you two to meet after seeing your performance at the Grammys. after your performance, he quickly found whose after party you were attending and got himself on the invites list, and basically faked being friends with people to get to you. how, you’ll never know. but that doesn’t matter.

at the after party, you fell for his charms immediately. he was much more charming (and handsome) than your boyfriend, joe. but that doesn’t matter.

ever since then, you and jack have been the bestest of friends. a day doesn’t go by where you don’t talk to him. now, you’re making pasta from jacks grandma’s famous recipe for your friends.

“i don’t know what you mean.” he picks up his wine glass and downs in it one go.

“i love you, y/n.”

your friends scream as lay all your love on me by ABBA starts playing in the other room.

“i love you too jack” you shout over their singing. they continue even louder. jack grabs your hands, he’s breathing hard. his eyes glisten.

“i’m possessive it isn’t nice” they sing.

“no no, y/n, i want to be with you. y/n i want all of you.”

“jack, this isn’t the right time and you know it.”

you and your boyfriend just broke up because he accused you of cheating. yes, you may have kissed jack once or twice (or maybe a few more times than that) because you were upset, but it wasn’t anything serious. friends kiss all the time, right?

also, you’re about to go on a world tour.

but now it isn’t true

now everything is new

“y/n we can make it work. if you love somebody, you can make it work. and i love you.”

“jack stop it.” you say, removing your hands from his grip but he quickly grabs your waist instead and pulls you closer.

don’t go wasting your emotion

lay all your love on me

“i do, i do love you, you’re amazing there’s nobody like you” you can smell the wine on his breath, it mixes so perfectly with his natural musk and the heat you feel in your stomach from his touch. his hands on your waist that pull you into his body remind you of the first time you kissed him. your body moves before you can think, pulling him down into a kiss. he kisses you like he’s never kissed you before, so needy, so desperate it makes your knees weak. he slinks his hands up to your face and holds you like you’re his treasure. you back away first, hands still on his neck, and he looks at you through hooded eyes.

“the way you smile,” kiss “the way you laugh,” kiss “the way we could spend hours together and i would never get bored,” kiss and a smile. he leans his forehead on yours, your face burns.

the world around you fades away.

“i’ve never felt this way about anybody before,” he whispers.

“me neither.”

“i’ve never laughed so hard in my life. i’m so much better when i’m around you. i cant live without you, y/n” his eyes shine once again.

“jack i love you.” your eyes swell up with tears, blurring jacks face.

“i know we can work it out, y/n, it’ll be fine. we can do distance, hell i’ll follow you across the world. i’d go anywhere for you, y/n, i want this to work. i want us to work.” he speaks as he holds your head, making sure you never look away from him. tears stream down your face, you’re just so overwhelmed with love and emotions you don’t even know what to do. jack holds you and doesn’t let go.

“don’t cry, sweet girl, i need you to listen to me.” you lean into his chest and continue to cry, leaving mascara stains on his white shirt. “why are you crying, hm?”

“jack, i love you so much,” he holds you tight. you never knew how much he loved you, you’ve never been loved like this.

“y/n, listen to me.” you sniffle and look up at him. “i need you, okay? i don’t wanna live without you,” he wipes your tears away, “and if i cant have all of you, i cant handle anything less than all of you. i wanna be with you 24/7, i wanna be fully in love, i never want to leave the stage where we can’t keep our hands off of each other, okay?” you nod against his chest. he never looks away from you.

“i cant share you, i cant share you anymore. i cant share you with another man, i cant share you with your dad, i cant share you with your best friend. i’m your best friend.” he begins to rub your shoulder, his face so full of emotion.

“i’m your best friend who loves you. i’m your best friend who will do anything for you. i’m your best friend, i’m your lover, i’m your husband. i can do all those 3 jobs. i can do it all for you. but i want to know if you can do it all for me.”

“jack, yes,” you speak before you can think.

“shh,” he puts his pointer finger to your lips. “can you be mine?” he asks with a smile. “can you be fully mine? can you be my best friend, partner, lover? can you be the mother of my kids?”

he pauses, looking at you with a smile. neither of you move. your chests rise and fall in unison, your body heat has become one. in this moment, its just you two. you and jack. no one else. no one else matters.

“i’m ready to be serious with you. i don’t want to kiss and tell anymore, i want to marry and tell. i want to be serious with you. i’m committed to you, y/n, and only you.” he pulls you into a deep kiss, a passionate, needy kiss. you kiss him through your tears. you press yourself into his body, a deep need for him taking over.

“so what do you sa-“ you cut off jack before he can finish his sentence with a kiss.

[chaoskull]

Alexandre Cabanel - The Evening Angel

Death to Clemency

Sanguinius x Gn!Reader

Summary: Sanguinius imprudently believes his desires can be surpressed, contemplating his sorrowful failure of the attempt, you arrive, as it was destined.

Dropping this quick thing here for you guys!

Sanguinius wanted to be seen as one that the people could pour their soul and heart out to, he devoted himself to be a welcoming listener to the voice of the population.

Blood dried on the primarchs face, he stayed perched on the top of a column, as a statue would, unmoving, the view was irrelevant to him as much as the wind, he reflected on the action that had brought him to this isolated place.

He had succumbed to the urge to drink blood by a frivolous mistake. Covered by it he felt pathetic, there was glory in his doing, no battle had been won.

It wasn't of a human, it was of an animal he'd taken the life out of, although it truly almost felt the same. He wanted to trick himself, but he knew there was no illusion that could alleviate his desire, it did not help to calm himself.

No one knew of it, only his sons could, even so, he swore to not tell them of this incident. He was needed to be left alone, for how long he was unsure, but what was definitive is that no one was there to console his tormented mind.

He had left the crowded meeting table to seek loneliness after the strong smell had captured him, a serf had fallen holding the weapon of an astartes, their blood pressured his mind into shambles.

A lamb was near the fortress walls, the herd was not far, he did not know if it would ease his compulsion, yet he advanced.

He wondered if one would notice its disappearance as he tore into its flesh in an almost unconscious act. He felt as a beast, the man once inside him was possessed by a ravenous primitive predator.

It did nothing to mitigate his urge, the breeze now solidifies his own misjudgement in crimson, as he had invisioned.

He knew of your coming, it was seen by him in the form of a premonition and kept in his memory. At your steps, sounding on the marble floors, he didn't move, he panicked, your reaction was severely important to him.

He covered himself with his wings, the once symbol of greatness becoming an easy way to hide his shameful predicament.

You have seen him by now, there is no way you couldn't, he was twice your size, his immense wings were impossible to be ignored. The steps were not heard anymore, you had to be watching him contorting himself.

“My lord, my apologizes if I've interrupted you” He hears the light rustle of your clothes as you bowed to take a leave. Ashamed to fully view your figure, he peeked through the feathers to take a small sight of you.

"Wait" He pleaded, as he sees you turn away, making you return to where you were standing just a second ago.

He was doomed, he's seen you in his dreams, your face as delightful as it was then, but now you were present in his reality, he wished to know your thoughts of what he's become now, the bloodthirsty creature he was, his once white robes were stained red in his chest just as his jaw.

“What brings you here?” He asks, in a calming tone, masking his true desperation. He notices his hands were also painted the same maroon, curling further into himself.

Your head was curved downwards, in a sign of respect, maybe hesitancy. He wanted to see you, but to ask I'd be a pious action, as he hides himself to not be seen as well.

“I was�� looking for a quiet place, my lord” You answer, in embarrassment, he thinks, that was what it seemed, at least to him.

He ponders what could have made you, from this nervously obedient servant, to the one he sees caressing his hair and feathers. As you lay on his bed, and he has you in his arms as nightfall takes the sunlight into the moon's reflection of it.

He tentatively unwraps himself from wings, the curtain of white feathers revealing the disaster that had happened moments before your arrival.

The expression in your face as saw him was enough to tell your perception of him, your first encounter with the primarch, and Sanguinius felt weak and disheveled.

You believed him to be a murderer, a unruly creature that had taken the life of a innocent, he knew of the destruction some of his brothers were capable of doing, he did not want to be them, he wanted you to love him as he did you.

You were terrified, petrified, you couldn't escape, he quickly envelopes you in his wings, his hands were firmly planted on your back, his sharp nails made cuts as he was trying to stop you from leaving, begging for forgiveness.

“What I've done is not what you believe have happened, please forgive me, I didn't not wish to be seen as well” He cries, his blood soaked hands inking your face the same color as his.

The clear tears that run from eyes to his merge forming crismon drops that fall to his neck, trying to explain himself, Sanguinius felt clueless wishing for your clemency.

“I have done a terrible mistake, you shouldn't have to see me as this” He has visions of your future, one you were to be the one to consoled, and not out of fear of him, you did not judge him by his erratic behavior that seemed one of an animal.

Now you started to understand his predicament, he felt lone and scared just as you, in the short minute you had gained clarity of his emotional turmoil, you spoke up, ignoring the formal distance between the two.

“There is nothing to fear, Sanguinius” You say, in an attempt to relieve his sorrowful expression, perhaps to save your life or his, you did not know.

He is unsure as to why you'd say that, as if you could read his every thought. Your hands wipe part of the blood as you rid him of his tears.

How can one bring such compassion to the man he was, for a brief moment the man was stripped of honor, all left was a sentiment of ludicity, it had been years since one address him in such warm light.

Perhaps he was right of the visions of his future, you were to be by his side, he was to tame his urge for the sweetily sickening taste of blood and keep you to himself.

He did not care for the mess he was to make any longer, he leaned into your face to capture your lips in a kiss, the tenderness of his lips in your was of outmost devotion.

He is wished he had met properly, he will apologize for this encounter, he was to show you of the man he truly was.

Although, the smell of your sweet blood dripping from your back started to take ahold of him, as close as you two were.

Didn't want to ruin it by rushing one clear ending, so it's open for your interpretations!

[zoofzoofxx]

—The art of eyecontact—

Pairings ; Axel Kovacevic x fem!reader

Summary ; After Sam insisted you accompany her to the club, you finally agreed, hoping it would help you move past everything that happened with Axel. However, a peculiar interaction with Kwon set off a series of unforeseen events that caught you entirely off guard.

Warnings ; Alcohol usage

Pt. 3

୨୧・・・・♡・・・・୨୧

‘Come onnnn, Y/n, don’t be boring,’ Sam whined, her voice dripping with exaggerated desperation as she gave me a firm shake. I was curled up tightly in my blanket, fully immersed in the comfort of my couch and a random movie that I wasn’t even paying much attention to. Her relentless persistence was beginning to chip away at my patience.

‘No,’ I replied flatly, shaking my head with finality. Sam was on a mission to drag me to the club tonight, but the idea of stepping into that crowded, chaotic environment was unappealing—especially because I’d seen Zara’s story earlier. She was there with her team, and of course, Axel was with her. The thought of seeing him so soon made my stomach churn. I wasn’t ready to face him yet. Tomorrow would already be challenging enough, and I needed time to steel myself mentally for what was inevitably going to be an awkward encounter.

‘Please, Y/n!!!’ Sam’s tone shifted to a dramatic plea as she sank to her knees, hands clasped together like she was begging for her life. Her exaggerated antics might have been amusing under different circumstances, but right now, they only added to my irritation. I barely glanced in her direction, still shaking my head in defiance.

Despite her theatrics, I remained unmoved. The mere thought of Axel lingering in the same room as me tonight was enough to make my resolve unshakable. Yet, as persistent as Sam was, I knew she wouldn’t give up without a fight.

Sam groaned dramatically, throwing herself onto the couch beside me, her arm draped across her face like the world had just come crashing down.

‘You’re such a buzzkill,’ she huffed, peeking at me from under her arm. ‘It’s one night, Y/n. Just one. You don’t even have to stay long, I swear. And let’s be real, you’re going to look amazing in that dress you bought on our first day here in Barcelona. It’s way too stunning to be wasted.’

I looked up from my cocoon of blankets, unimpressed. ‘The dress is still in the bag, Sam. And I’m wearing sweatpants.’

‘And that’s fixable,’ she shot back without missing a beat. ‘Ten minutes, max. I’ll help you get ready, you’ll look incredible, we’ll dance a little, and—’

I cut her off with a flat tone, ‘And I’ll have to deal with Axel.’

Her teasing expression faltered for a moment, the dramatic air she carried around her suddenly softening. Her voice was gentler now, almost careful. ‘Y/n, you don’t have to talk to him. You don’t even have to look at him. Zara’s going to be busy with her team, and Axel… well, let’s just say he’d be a fool to let anything ruin your night. He’s not worth it.’

I hugged my blanket tighter, staring at the muted movie playing on the screen. I wanted to go—part of me really did—but the idea of seeing Axel tonight made my stomach churn. It wasn’t that I didn’t know how to handle him; I just wasn’t ready. Not yet. Tomorrow, I’d have no choice but to face him, and that was already weighing on me. How could I mentally prepare for that if I had to deal with him tonight, too?

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment, letting the silence hang in the air between us. Then, she shifted, sitting upright and leaning toward me with a small, knowing smile.

Sam’s knowing smile widened as she leaned closer, her energy impossible to resist. ‘Listen,’ she said, her voice soft and encouraging. ‘We’ll keep it simple. Just get up, put on that stunning dress, and I’ll help you with everything else. Trust me, you’re going to feel amazing. We’ll have fun, and you’ll completely forget about… well, you-know-who.’

I hesitated, my eyes drifting to the chair where the shopping bag from earlier this week sat. Inside was the dress I’d bought on our first day here in Barcelona. It was from a cozy little boutique we’d stumbled across while wandering the streets—full of warm lighting, vintage mirrors, and racks of carefully curated pieces. The moment I’d seen the dress, I knew it was something special. It wasn’t flashy, but the soft white fabric and simple elegance had caught my attention. Sam had encouraged me to try it on, and though I’d hesitated, I couldn’t stop smiling once I saw myself in it.

‘I don’t know…’ I started, fiddling with the edge of my blanket.

‘Y/n,’ Sam said firmly, her tone kind but insistent. ‘You loved that dress. Don’t let it sit there when you could be out feeling as amazing as you look in it.’

Her words were enough to push me into motion. I sighed, tossing off the blanket and rising from the couch. ‘Okay, fine. But if this night turns into a disaster, I’m blaming you.’

Sam grinned triumphantly, clapping her hands together. ‘Fair enough! Now, let’s get to work.’

While she rummaged through her bag, pulling out makeup brushes and curling irons like a magician revealing her tricks, I grabbed the dress and headed to the bathroom. The silky white fabric felt cool against my skin as I slipped it on, the fit just as perfect as I remembered. When I stepped out, Sam froze mid-motion, her mouth falling open in mock astonishment.

‘Y/n,’ she said, drawing out my name dramatically, ‘you look like you just stepped out of a movie. That dress was made for you.’

I rolled my eyes with a small smile but couldn’t deny the hint of confidence her words gave me. ‘Alright, what’s next?’

‘Sit down,’ she instructed, waving me toward the chair in front of the vanity. ‘Hair and makeup, obviously. You’re in good hands.’

As Sam worked, her chatter filled the room, light and easy. She styled my hair into soft waves, adding just enough volume to make it feel glamorous but not overdone. For makeup, she went for a natural glow with a touch of shimmer on my eyelids and a classic swipe of mascara.

‘You know,’ she said as she blended the final touch of blush, ‘tonight’s not about anyone else. It’s about you having a good time. So, don’t overthink it. Just enjoy yourself—you deserve it.’

I met her eyes in the mirror, her sincerity catching me off guard. ‘Thanks, Sam,’ I said quietly.

‘Anytime,’ she replied with a grin, stepping back to admire her work. ‘Now, look at you! Ready to turn heads.’

I stood up, glancing at my reflection. The confidence I’d been missing started to creep back as I smoothed the fabric of the dress. ‘Alright,’ I said, grabbing my clutch with a newfound determination. ‘Let’s do this.’

Sam beamed, linking her arm with mine. ‘That’s the spirit. Now, let’s show Barcelona what you’re made of.’

We stepped out the door together, and for the first time that night, I felt like maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

Sitting by the bar, sipping on an espresso martini, I found myself engaged in polite small talk with a few familiar faces from the opposing team. The atmosphere was loud and lively, filled with the thumping bass of the music and the hum of conversations around us. Sam and I had been chatting casually, laughing at something ridiculous she’d said, when she suddenly announced, ‘I need to call Miguel.’

I raised a brow at her. ‘Right now?’

‘Yes, right now,’ she said, grinning and waving her phone. ‘It’s important.’

The music was far too loud for her to have any hope of hearing him, so we decided to step outside. The crisp night air hit me the second we walked out, the stark contrast to the heat of the club sending a shiver down my spine.

Sam wandered a little further down the alley, pressing her phone to her ear and trying to find a quieter spot. I stayed back, leaning against a random wall as I waited for her. That’s when I felt it—the cold. It wasn’t just chilly; it was sharp, the kind of wind that made you regret not bringing a jacket.

Rubbing my hands together in a futile attempt to keep warm, I realized how much the alcohol had gotten to me. The espresso martinis I’d been nursing all night suddenly made my head feel heavy, and my thoughts a little sluggish. Drunk and cold was not the ideal combination, and I couldn’t help but shiver as I shifted my weight from one foot to the other, trying to stay warm.

The street around me was quiet, apart from the muffled music spilling out from the club doors behind me. I glanced over at Sam, who was pacing slightly as she talked animatedly into her phone. It was strange being out here, away from the chaos inside, but a part of me welcomed the break, even if it came with the chill.

I sighed, rubbing my arms as the cold wind sliced through me, making me shiver uncontrollably. The night felt even colder now that the alcohol in my system was wearing off, leaving me feeling a little disoriented. A yawn escaped my lips as I glanced toward Sam, who was still pacing further down the alley, her phone pressed to her ear.

The sudden sound of the club door opening made me turn my head, and there he was. Kwon.

He stepped outside, letting the door swing shut behind him, his sharp eyes scanning the area before landing squarely on me. He was wearing a black jacket with a bold Cobra Kai logo stitched on the chest, the emblem catching the dim light. His presence was unmistakable, commanding as always, though his expression was hard to read—part surprise, part amusement.

‘What are you doing out here?’ he asked, his tone blunt as he walked closer, his hands tucked into his jacket pockets.

I straightened up instinctively, the cold biting at my skin even harder under his gaze. ‘Just waiting for Sam,’ I said, motioning toward her as casually as I could. ‘She’s making a call.’

Kwon stopped a few feet away from me, tilting his head slightly as he looked me up and down. ‘You look like you’re about to freeze to death,’ he said flatly, a hint of mockery in his voice.

I laughed nervously, rubbing my arms to try and warm up. ‘Yeah, it’s colder than I expected.’

‘Clearly,’ he said, arching a brow. ‘Did you even think about bringing a jacket, or are you just bad at planning ahead?’

I frowned, his tone making my stomach twist uncomfortably. ‘I didn’t think I’d be standing out here for so long,’ I muttered, looking away.

‘Right,’ he said with a smirk, shrugging off his jacket and holding it out toward me. ‘Here. Take it before you turn into an icicle.’

I hesitated, glancing between him and the jacket. ‘I’m fine. You don’t have to—’

‘Don’t make this more complicated than it is,’ he cut me off, his voice sharp. ‘Just take it. It’s not like I’m doing this for you—I just don’t want to hear about how someone froze to death outside the club.’

His words stung a little, but the cold won out. Reluctantly, I took the jacket, slipping it on. It was warm, the fabric carrying a faint scent of him—clean and woodsy, though I tried not to think about it too much.

‘Thanks,’ I said quietly, avoiding his gaze.

He leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest. ‘You’re welcome,’ he said, though his tone didn’t carry much warmth. After a pause, he added, ‘Next time, maybe think ahead. You don’t seem like the type who handles cold well.’

I bit back a retort, pulling the jacket tighter around me. Kwon always had a way of getting under my skin, but at least now, I wasn’t shivering.

‘I’ll be leaving,’ Kwon announced, his voice cutting through the stillness of the night as he saw Sam making her way back toward us.

I glanced at him, still not entirely used to his bluntness, but before I could respond, he patted my shoulder arrogantly, the motion deliberate and a little too forceful. His touch lingered for a second longer than necessary, and I could feel the slight warmth of his hand through the fabric of his jacket.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and started heading back toward the club. He didn’t look back, his strides purposeful and confident, as if he hadn’t just done me a small favor moments ago.

I opened my mouth, about to thank him for the jacket, but the words died on my lips as he disappeared into the club without a second glance.

I stood there for a moment, the jacket still draped over my shoulders, feeling the cold night air around me once more. I wasn’t sure why his arrogance stung, but it did. Sam was just reaching my side as I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness.

Sam raised an eyebrow as she approached me, noticing the slight shift in my mood. ‘What’s up? You look like you’ve been hit with a wave of confusion.’

I shook my head, trying to brush it off. ‘Nothing, just… Kwon being Kwon.’

Sam tilted her head, a smirk forming on her lips. ‘Oh? Kwon being Kwon? What does that even mean?’

I sighed, glancing down at the jacket draped over my shoulders. The familiar Cobra Kai logo on the sleeve caught her attention instantly, and her eyes widened in surprise.

‘Wait a second,’ she said, her voice rising with shock. ‘You’re wearing his jacket?’

I felt a flush creep up my neck, suddenly self-conscious. ‘Yeah, he gave it to me,’ I muttered, feeling oddly defensive. ‘I was freezing, and he—’

‘Gave you his jacket?’ Sam interrupted, her eyes narrowing with suspicion. ‘Hmm, that’s… not something I would expect from him. What did he want from you?’

I blinked at her, momentarily thrown off by her question. ‘What do you mean, what did he want?’

She gave me a pointed look, clearly not buying my nonchalant tone. ‘Come on, Y/n. Kwon doesn’t just hand over his jacket for no reason. There has to be more to it than that.’

I hesitated, unsure how to explain it. He hadn’t really wanted anything, at least not directly. He had been his usual distant self, sarcastic and borderline mean, but there was something in the way he’d offered me his jacket that made me question his intentions. Maybe I was overthinking it.

‘I don’t know,’ I said slowly, feeling a bit uneasy. ‘He just noticed I was cold and… I guess he didn’t want me freezing out here.’

Sam raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. ‘Really? That’s it?’

I sighed, crossing my arms and glancing back toward the club. ‘Yeah, I guess so. It’s not a big deal.’

Sam didn’t seem entirely convinced, but she let it go for now. She looked me over one more time, her eyes lingering on the jacket as if trying to piece together some unspoken motive. ‘Well, I’m not complaining. It’s a good look for you, anyway,’ she said with a wink, clearly trying to lighten the mood.

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. ‘Thanks, I guess.’

I could tell Sam wasn’t a big fan of Kwon, and I had a feeling her compliment about me looking good in his jacket wasn’t exactly genuine. She was just trying to distract me, to get my mind off Axel. It was clear in the way she’d casually brushed it off, as if the whole thing with Kwon was no big deal. But the truth was, it wasn’t that simple.

I tugged the jacket a little tighter around myself, feeling its warmth but also the odd weight of it, like it carried more meaning than just the fabric against my skin. The whole encounter with Kwon had been strange. There was something in the way he’d acted—his arrogance, his nonchalance—that made it feel less like a simple act of kindness and more like a gesture wrapped in layers of unspoken tension.

As we walked back toward the club, Sam chattered on about the night, about how great it was that I’d decided to come out and how much fun we were going to have. But I couldn’t focus on her words. My mind kept drifting back to Kwon’s indifferent attitude and the way he’d just left without a second thought, and then there was the nagging thought about Axel.

Axel.

The thought of seeing him again tomorrow had already been enough to set my nerves on edge, but now, with Kwon’s jacket wrapped around me, it felt like there was something pulling me in two different directions. I didn’t know what to make of any of it.

Sam nudged me playfully, clearly unaware of the storm brewing in my head. ‘Come on, don’t let that jackass mess with your vibe. We’re here to have fun, remember?’

I smiled faintly, trying to force myself back into the present, but the weight of the jacket, of Kwon’s words, and the unspoken tension between me and Axel stayed with me. It wasn’t that easy to forget.

We stepped back into the club, and the contrast hit me immediately—a hot, suffocating wave of air, thick with the mix of bodies, music, and lights. It was a sharp reminder of how loud and alive everything was in here compared to the quiet, chilly night outside.

Feeling the heat creep up on me, I slipped off Kwon’s jacket, draping it over my arm. The faint scent of it still lingered, grounding me in a way I didn’t fully understand. I opened Instagram on my phone, typing out a quick message to him: Hey, is there a chance we could meet later? I have your jacket. I hit send but noticed it stayed unread. Typical Kwon.

Before I could dwell on it too long, something else grabbed my attention. Sam was weaving her way back toward me through the crowd, grinning like she’d just won the lottery. In each hand, she held a shot glass, the liquid inside glinting under the strobe lights.

‘Look what I got!’ she said, her voice cutting through the music as she handed me one. ‘Cheers to us, Y/n!’

I hesitated, eyeing the glass suspiciously. I knew my limits, especially after everything I’d already had tonight. ‘I don’t know, Sam,’ I started, shaking my head. ‘I think I’ve had enough.’

But Sam, ever persistent, rolled her eyes before knocking back her own shot effortlessly. ‘Come on,’ she coaxed, her tone playful and teasing. ‘It doesn’t even taste like alcohol. I swear.’

She stuck her tongue out dramatically, proving her point, and I couldn’t help but laugh a little. She was clearly in her element, and her energy was infectious. Relenting, I finally raised the glass. ‘Fine. Just this one.’

‘That’s my girl!’ Sam cheered, pulling me into a quick side hug as I downed the shot. True to her word, it didn’t have the harsh kick I’d been expecting, just a subtle sweetness that lingered.

I smiled faintly, raising the now-empty glass in a half-hearted cheer. ‘To us, I guess.’

Sam clinked her empty glass against mine, her enthusiasm practically radiating off her. I, on the other hand, found my focus slipping as I clutched Kwon’s jacket in one hand and tried to lose myself in the moment. But my thoughts kept circling back to Axel.

What was he doing right now? Was he here somewhere in this chaotic crowd, or was he still out with Zara and the others? No matter how much I tried to shake it off, the thought of him loomed in the back of my mind, pulling me in a direction I wasn’t sure I wanted to go.

‘Soooo… another shot?’ Sam asked, her tone mischievous as she swayed a little, clearly enjoying herself.

I shrugged, feeling the buzz of the night taking over. ‘Sure!’ I replied, grinning and forgetting entirely that I was supposed to be keeping track of my limits.

Sam disappeared for a moment and came back with a different color this time—a vivid blue shot that glowed under the club lights. I took it in my hand, ready to drink, when Zara suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

She was as drunk as we were, her excitement bubbling over as she hugged me tightly. Her words were slurred, tumbling out in a chaotic, happy mess.

‘Whoa… re-repeat what you just said!’ I laughed, holding the shot in one hand as I tried to make sense of her rambling.

I was about to drink it when a firm hand stopped me. Turning, I saw Kwon standing there, his expression sharp and unamused.

‘I think you’ve had enough,’ he said curtly, snatching the shot glass from my hand before I could even protest. He placed it on a nearby table with a deliberate motion, clearly unwilling to argue.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Sam grabbing the abandoned drink without hesitation and knocking it back, oblivious to Kwon’s disapproval.

‘Oh! Kwon!’ I said, suddenly remembering the jacket. I grabbed it and shoved it into his hands with a bright smile. ‘Thank you for warming me up earlier.’

He looked at me with a mixture of exasperation and something unreadable, but I didn’t give him time to respond. Turning to Sam, I grabbed her wrist. ‘Sam, let’s go outside. I don’t feel well,’ I said, pressing a hand to my temple.

The club felt overwhelming—the heat, the pounding music, the blur of lights and voices. My head was spinning, and the sensation was too much.

I managed a weak smile at Zara and Kwon before guiding Sam toward the exit. Once outside, I collapsed against the same wall I had been leaning on earlier. The freezing night air hit my skin like a splash of cold water, helping to clear my mind, if only slightly.

I sat there, eyes closed, focusing on my breathing as Sam lingered nearby. A few minutes later, I heard footsteps, and when I looked up, Kwon and Tory were walking toward me. Kwon carried a bottle of water, his usual sharp demeanor still intact, while Tory’s expression was softer, filled with concern.

Tory knelt beside me, gently grabbing my hand as she offered the water. ‘Drink some water,’ she said firmly.

I barely registered the sound of more people spilling out of the club, their footsteps crunching against the pavement as they approached. My eyes stayed closed, my body too heavy, the cold air lulling me toward sleep against the wall. That is, until a familiar scent drifted past my pink-tinted nose—a warm, intoxicating mix of something unmistakably Axel.

My eyes snapped open, and there he was, kneeling beside me. His hand rested gently on my knee, its warmth cutting through the chill in the air. Axel’s expression was calm but serious, his gaze flicking to Tory as he murmured something about getting me, Sam, and Zara home safely.

Tory nodded, giving me one last reassuring smile as she rose to her feet. Kwon followed her without a word, his jacket slung over his shoulder, and they both disappeared back into the club.

I blinked sluggishly, trying to piece together what was happening, but before I could form a coherent thought, Axel scooped me up effortlessly. My head lolled against his shoulder as the steady rhythm of his footsteps replaced the chaotic noise of the night.

The crisp night air carried his scent, a mix of cologne and something inherently him. I found myself leaning into it, breathing it in as my eyelids fluttered. My thoughts grew hazy, and the world around me blurred into a comforting haze.

The next thing I knew, we were in the quiet sanctuary of my hotel room. Axel carefully laid me down on the bed, his movements gentle and precise, as if afraid I might shatter. The softness of the mattress beneath me felt like a cloud, pulling me further into the depths of sleep.

Zara appeared out of nowhere, rushing to my side and enveloping me in a drunken hug. Her voice was a jumble of words I couldn’t quite make out, but the warmth of her embrace was familiar and comforting.

Axel gently but firmly pulled her away, his touch protective yet restrained. As Zara stumbled back, he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

I blinked up at him, catching the subtle shift in his eyes. They weren’t cold or indifferent like they usually were—they held something different, something warmer, something… admiring. He didn’t smile, but the look was enough to stir something in my chest.

I muttered something under my breath, barely audible even to myself. Maybe it was, ‘Sleep tight.’ Maybe it was nothing at all.

As I rolled over, hugging the small teddy bear I always kept on my bed, the faint sound of Axel’s footsteps retreating faded into the quiet of the room. My last thought before sleep took over completely was the lingering feel of his presence and the way his eyes had looked at me—like I wasn’t just another fleeting part of the night.

[lacyscabinet]

ellie williams with blind reader

I JUST CANT FIND THIS ANYWHERE AND I THINK ELLIE WOULD BE A SOFTIE WITH THE READER😭😭

A/N: HELLO POOKIE!!! I love love love this request so much and I had so much fun writing it, thank you so much and I wish you a wonderful day!🤍🤍🤍 It was supposed to come out WEEKS ago but I got sick because I have the immune system of a Victorian child and I forgot to post this, I beg on my knees for forgiveness 😔✋🏼

give me feedback, gays 💜

NAVIGATION

okay so where should I start...

First of all can we say that being blind ESPECIALLY in an apocalyptic world is not EXACTLY ideal...

While Ellie may not fully grasp how you experience the world without sight, she knows what it's like to feel isolated and alienated

She’d make it her mission to keep you emotionally safe, always checking in with you, and gently coaxing you to talk when you’re feeling down or scared

BUT I'd like to think that Ellie wouldn't treat you like a little child just because of your condition, she knows you just need some extra help for some tasks

Ellie would totally read books out loud for you, because I don't think braille would be a thing in the apocalypse

She doesn't even mind doing it and she actually loves being able to help you with that

she might sit with you at the end of the day and read aloud from any scraps of books she can find out on patrol. If she doesn't have a book handy, she might make up stories on the spot, trying to paint vivid images in your mind

Sometimes if she doesn't have any ideas she'd just tell you about her adventures on patrol

...and it would be hilarious sometimes-

"Alright, so I was getting chased by this huge group of clickers, right? And they’re all like… trying to get me, but I’m just this...stealthy ninja, dodging left and right— Anyway, I had this crazy plan, and I kinda... tripped but, hey, that’s the story of how I almost died!"

I also believe she would be SO worried whenever she leaves for patrol because she knows you'd have to stay alone for a while.

Ellie would likely become hyper-aware of your other senses. Since you can’t see, she would focus on sounds, smells, and even tactile sensations to keep you informed of your surroundings

she might tap your shoulder lightly to guide you if you're about to bump into something

She would hold your hand to guide you when walking through a dangerous area or wrap her arm around your waist to steer you through crowded spaces in Jackson

Even though you’re blind, Ellie might still try to teach you about things that can be learned through other senses.

She could explain how to recognize different plants or what types of birds are nearby by their calls

Maybe she’ll even take it upon herself to teach you how to identify objects or places by their texture or sound, making you feel more connected to the world around you.

"This one’s a little tricky, but feel the texture of this rock—it's rough, right? Man, I love rocks..."

Ellie might get frustrated at times, but never at you, more at herself: she feels like she can’t do enough to make your life easier.

She might worry about how you experience the world, wanting to fix everything but realizing that some things are beyond her control

This would lead to moments where she becomes fiercely determined to find a way to help, trying to make things better in any way she can

"I just wish I could give you more, you know? I wish I could make you see the things I can see, just so you don’t feel like you’re missing out on things."

Overall she would be such a pookie because she's Ellie and she's a cutie patotie (and she also reduced the population of Seattle by 50%)

[woncon]

➳ sick duty.

➶ poly!ateez x gn!reader (yungisang focus) ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ Yunho is sick, and you and Yeosang are on sick duty. When the others still haven't arrived with jelly, you decide to go to the nearest shop in the raging storm and buy some, because Yunho really wants them.

➴ genre: slice of life, sickfic, estabilished relationship, polyamory, non-idol!au

: ̗̀➛ warnings: poor yunho has a fever, one sexually suggestive offer, petnames, nudity

⌨ :: 3.5K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ This idea came to me when I saw a double rainbow in early June while listening to Golden Hour Pt1. It was supposed to play in the summer, but I never got to the end. Now autumn came and I decided to write it. But in this rainy, gloomy weather it seemed better to set it in a more autumnal setting. That changed my basic idea a lot, but I'm happy with it as it is.

⁀➷ My lovely @wonsheep, I'm still sorry the rain poured on you so heavily on Wednesday. :( But it was very motivating, as you can see. Many thanks for reading through the story and founding my silly mistakes!

➳ mlist

I'm hot.

I want tea.

I'm cold.

The sickly season of the autumn-winter months spares no one. Yunho, who is hard to dislodge from whatever well-endowed giraffe's legs he has, is now curled up in the middle of the bed, disconsolate because he didn't pull on a thick enough scarf, or was carelessly underdressed in the living room, or simply spent too much time around a co-worker who has been lurking with some virus. Whichever the case, the poor guy is in a terrible mood.

"I want medicine," he whispers his next wish.

You look at your watch.

“One more hour before you can take the next one,” you say, brushing his hair away to touch his sweat beaded forehead. It's still as warm as underfloor heating.

Frustrated, he rolls to the side and buries his head fully into the pillow. You drop your hands back into your lap, helpless. It's simply exasperating to watch him suffer, to listen to his snotty, ragged breathing mix with the rain beating against the window.

“Do you want something to help?” you ask, when he turns to you again and raises his feverish eyes to you. The skin around his nose is flushed from all the blowing.

“Jelly.”

Yunho is convinced that jelly sweets can help him. Or at least when he's sick, he likes to eat sweets. Other times, not so much. Unfortunately, you guys weren't prepared for Yunho being sick in the near future. Plus, there's a storm brewing, the kind you haven't seen in a long time. It's been raining steadily for a week now, sometimes more, sometimes less. The others went to do the shopping with the car, leaving Yunho behind with the promise to bring him some jelly. He responded with a small, grateful smile.

Now, looking at his tortured expression, you would give a lot to see that smile again, the hope in his eyes. You reach out and take his hand. You sigh. Gently, slowly, you caress the back of his hand, knowing how sensitive he is to touch when he has a fever. You don't want to overdo it and hurt him, but at the same time you want to let him know physically that you're there for him.

"It's on the way." You really hope it is. The last time Jongho called, they were already at the checkout. Your youngest friend boasted that they were bringing five full bags of jelly beans. That was about twenty minutes ago. No news since then. It bothers you that you can't offer an immediate solution to Yunho's every wish.

Before Yunho can ask any more questions, the door opens. Yeosang arrives with a tray holding a steaming mug and something wrapped in napkins that you can't identify yet. With cautious steps, he moves to the other side of the bed among some discarded clothes - because Yunho didn't want to shower this morning, just threw everything off the bed he'd chosen as his regular place - and then takes a seat, placing the tray safely on the bedside table, gently moving Seonghwa's half-finished book.

“I've brought the tea," he says to Yunho. "And I found some biscuits to go with it."

Interested, the patient moves up on the pillow, but still looks vulnerable. Yeosang holds the cup in his hand and gives the man small sips. Meanwhile, you get up and gather up the laundry strewn around the bed and take it to the bathroom. On the way, you hear a conversation emanating from the kitchen, from which you hear the word 'jelly bean' clearly spoken at one point. So after throwing the laundry in the hamper, you go to the kitchen instead of the bedroom. The room is filled with the smell of hot water and tea leaves. Mingi is putting away the tea ingredients. The call is already finished, his phone is on the counter.

Originally, Mingi wouldn’t be on sick duty today. Today's subordinates are you and Yeosang, Mingi just didn't want to leave the apartment in this crazy weather and he’s helping you instead. It's not like this sick duty thing is strict in your relationship, and it's set in stone that Mingi can only nurse Yunho on Mondays and Fridays and holidays or anything. That said, there are rules. For example, Mingi usually only needs one nurse when he gets a cold or something more serious, but at such times it is Yunho for most of the time. Then there's Jongho, who, if he falls ill, no matter what the schedule, has all eight of you at his disposal twenty-four hours a day. Or, again, there's Seonghwa, who hides the fact that he's sick until it's too obvious, and you're all freaking out as to why he won't let you take care of him.

Yunho usually hardly gets sick. When he does, even a mild cold will get him down. And when he is ill, he's even fussier than the sick Wooyoung, and only one lover has a hard time coping with his demands. Usually two people are enough to care for him if there are jelly beans nearby. Which, for now, there aren’t.

“Are they on their way home?” you ask Mingi, who's packing honey. 

"It's worse downtown than here," he says. "The traffic's bad. They're just moving towards home inch by inch."

You both look out of the window, and the tapping of the rain remains as unrelenting as the fever that plagues Yunho.

“Is the tea to his liking?”

“I'm sure of it,” you smile at him. Mingi is usually insecure when it comes to Yunho's well-being. You suspect that the boy's illness was a more significant reason for Mingi to stay home than his desire not to get wet. “But you can ask him.”

You return to the bedroom with Mingi at your side. You remind yourself that this room now functions as a ward. The patient is huddled near the edge of the bed, munching on biscuits soaked in tea, so that they don't scratch his throat.

“It's not jelly,” he mutters, then pulls away from Yeosang and lies back on the upholstered cushions.

You look at Yeosang. Your theory is that you're thinking the exact same thing. If jelly beans are the only thing that helps your boyfriend, you'll do anything to get them. You're even willing to go to the convenience store in the pouring rain, because when you are on sick duty, Yunho mustn't lack anything.

"We'll go and get jelly beans," you say. Yeosang nods his head in commitment.

“We'll go?” Mingi looks terrified. “All of us?”

You can't leave Yunho alone in this state. It's a good thing that Mingi is here, in addition to Yeosang and you, ready for action, and not stuck in traffic with the others downtown. 

“No. You stay here with Yunho and look after him.”

Mingi continues to blink. 

“We'll be quick, don't worry, you don't have to multitask. Yuyu will probably fall asleep soon.”

"It's not me I'm worried about," he protests, "You'll get wet and cold."

"The store is not far away. We won't have enough time in the rain to freeze to death."

Yeosang wraps Yunho in a blanket and kisses him on the head.

"Mingi?" The man folded in a burrito addresses the worried individual.

“Yes?”

“Gimme a hug.”

Mingi doesn't resist, but climbs onto the bed, swapping places with Yeosang, who pats his shoulder as he passes. Before you even leave the room, you hear Mingi apologize and ask for Yunho's forgiveness.

Yeosang sticks the umbrella out the door. Just a little to test how much it rains. There's really barely any surface out, but the wind immediately grabs it and tugs it further. He pulls it back in time before the umbrella swings out or the wind wins, and you close the door with a great struggle, which also wants to jump off its hinges from the violent gusts of wind.

“I think this will stay here,” Yeosang says, and then drops the solid black umbrella behind you.

You zip up your raincoat. It occurs to you that maybe Mingi is right, and you're so wet you'll get stuck in a puddle of icy water. Yet the idea doesn't discourage you, doesn't make you stay, because Yunho needs the jellies.

Yeosang adjusts his hood, then holds out his hand. You embrace him tightly. You check your wallet stashed in the waterproof pocket one last time and place your hand on the doorknob. Then you push it down. The door swings open, and you let it drag you along with it. The back of your coat gets soaked immediately. The rain doesn't fall, it instead pours down from behind in a wave with the wind. Clinging on to Yeosang in vain, it's hard to keep up your own pace and not lurch forward like a rag doll. It's a wonder your boyfriend can close the door.

Although the shop is indeed a block away, at this time it feels like you're wandering for eternity. For one thing, the scenery is completely different in the rain, it's harder to navigate, especially in the raging, commanding wind. Around one corner, Yeosang has to pull you in, because out of nowhere a car appears, its wheels gallantly splashing a full puddle onto the pavement.

Somehow, you do reach the store. As soon as the automatic door closes behind you, the storm is out of the way. Inside, the weather is pleasant. Only the clothes clinging to your skin and the small puddles and mud stains on the floor left by other shoppers are reminders of what a doomsday is happening outside.

“Huh,” you sigh in relief. The first game of the war against weather is over. You only have one more to go to succeed in the jelly bean mission.

“We're crazy," Yeosang shakes his head in disbelief. Then he smiles up at you, sweetly and lovingly, because he's proud you're crazy. You return it.

Insanity is part of sick duty to some extent. Last time San must have used up thirty tissues a day, and ran out in the middle of the week. Hongjoong ran so fast to replace the used-up packets that he was almost hit by a truck. And when you were sick and craving nothing but a mug of hot tomato soup when all the shops were closed and there were no tomatoes at home, only ketchup... Well, Jongho tried.

You purposefully seek out sweets. Luckily, you don't have to wander around and scout the place, you'll often find yourself here. You take off two bags of Yunho's favourite flavour, sour apple. You remember again how pitiful your otherwise healthy and cheerful boyfriend looks.

“This will help him,” Yeosang says encouragingly, as if he's reading your mind.

You nod, then head for the cashier. You get in line. From here, you can see the window and the rain pouring down.

For the first time since the jelly bean plan was born, you have time to think about Mingi's excuse when he cuddled up to Yunho. It's my fault. I'm sorry. But how could it be his fault that Yunho caught a cold?

You're rewinding the previous two weeks. Yunho was in home office the whole time. He really enjoyed it, and when he wasn't working, he was playing video games. He didn't put his foot out until one time when he had to pop down to the shop for something. It didn't rain so heavily that day, just a gentle drizzle. Maybe Mingi had taken off Yunho's blanket one night? It couldn't be, either, because they'd been sleeping far apart lately.

It's your turn, so you suspend your musings. When you get back, you'll ask Mingi and hope it's not too embarrassing for him not to tell you. If he feels guilty, you could help him and reassure him that it's not his fault.

You and Yeosang pay. You put the bags in your coat pockets. You pull the hood up, not that it matters. You cling together again, then step out onto the soggy pavement. 

The way back is harder. This time the wind brings the rain from the front. Each blast smacks you in the face. Neither of your hoods can stay up. Your hair gets wet, the rain drips under your coat. You successfully step into a puddle, literally splashing in the muddy water, and the inside of your boots get soaked. You're wet everywhere, from your elbows to your toes. It's really annoying, but you don't falter, clutching Yeosang's arm until you reach the sheltering door of your home to drop in like two wet rags on the threshold and with a combined effort you shut out the cold, ominous wind. Yeosang slides along the door, his hair leaving a wet streak on the wooden panel.

“We did it,” he sighs, and proudly rattles one of the jelly beans he pulls out of his pocket. The bag is intact, of course.

“We did,” you agree, and pull him up off the ground.

Suddenly you're faced with the problem of not knowing what to take off first because everything is equally soaked. It's almost as if your clothes are the cool part of your skin, plus outer layers. Finally, following your boyfriend's example, you throw your coat on the floor first, then your shoes on the doormat, and socks after.

Before you reach for the next layer of clothing, there is the sound of footsteps. You think Mingi is coming, but when he sighs, you realize it's not your tall lover.

“You guys are adorable and dedicated, but silly at the same time," says Hongjoong with crossed arms.

“But at least Yunho’s jellies will hold out until he heals,” answers Yeosang, taking off his shirt.

“When did you arrive?” you ask.

“About a minute ago. But we'll talk later. Now go take a shower before you too end up feverishly next to Yunho,” Hongjoong advises, then retreats and San steps forward. He unconcealedly runs his eyes over Yeosang's naked torso, and yours, which still has your shirt stuck to it, rather tightly, so it might even be useless.

“If you get sick, I'll be on sick duty every day. The thing is, the adorable, dedicated, silly people are just my type” he winks.

“Move over, Sanie," Wooyoung appears and nudges the other one in the side, "You promised to help hyung pack up.”

San hums and walks away, but still smiles in your direction. You all love to oblige Hongjoong and Seonghwa, and that goes for when there's an opportunity to flirt as well.

“You two are sexy, all wet,” Wooyoung admits. “If you need help with the shower, let me know. I'll be within earshot.”

“We'll consider it,” you promise. Wooyoung nods with a grin, and he also retreats to the kitchen.

You pass through the hallway, but before you can go to the bathroom, Jongho stands in front of you with a plate of jelly beans. “Here. I thought you should be the ones to give it to him. You made a greater sacrifice, and most of us stayed dry. Except for Hwa hyung, who opened the door and held the umbrella.”

“Thank you,” you say at the same time. While Yeosang takes the bowl, you press a kiss on Jongho's cheek.

When you retire to the bedroom, the scene is quite cozy. Yunho is in bed, hugging Mingi, craving jelly beans, and you offer him what he craves most, and what you fought Mother Nature for.

“We got it,” you report.

Yunho snaps his head up. The mere hope brings life to his sick features. You stand by the bed, careful not to get rainwater on it.

“Here, hyung," Yeosang hands the bowl to him in a soft whisper.

“I hope you weren’t too desperate, baby. We hurried as much as we could.”

“You're the best," says Yunho, touched, between bites. “I love you.”

“We love you too, giant baby. Very much,” you assure him.

And he smiles up at you. The mission is a complete success. Whether all that time and getting soaked was enough to put you to bed remains to be seen. In the meantime, you bask in success.

Mingi sneezes. Then he reaches under the pillow and takes out a handkerchief. “My throat may be a tiny bit scratchy.”

“Should we set up someone on sick duty for you too?” Yeosang offers readily.

“Our poor boyfriends,” you sigh, watching them. Yunho in the midst of illness, Mingi as he probably slips into a state of flux.

“I deserve it,” murmurs Mingi, looking ruefully at Yunho.

“Why do you think so?” you ask the question that has been nagging at you for a good twenty minutes.

“When we ran out of milk last week, Yunho and I went to the grocery store... I offered to make out with him in the rain. It didn't rain much, and there was no wind. Still, that's how Yunho got cold.”

"Come on," the other protests hoarsely. He sucks on a jelly bean with great enthusiasm. You wouldn't believe he can taste it. “You offered, I agreed, I could have said no, but I didn't. All in all, it was worth it.”

“Worth it?” Yeosang raises his eyebrows. “You were dying before the jelly arrived.”

"If you haven't kissed Mingi in the rain, you won't understand," he declares, then turns to Mingi. “Want a jelly, princess?

Yeosang and you leave them alone, let them romance each other in the infirmary. Barefoot, you stomp off to the bathroom. You open the door, and a thick, fragrant steam rises from the room. A pleasant warm breeze reminds you how cold you are. You hurry inside. Yeosang closes the door to keep the comforting steam from escaping.

Seonghwa is already drying his hair and got dressed. You look at him expectantly, ready to be reprimanded. But he has no such plans. He takes your face with one hand and Yeosang's with the other. “I am proud of you. Take a bath, then we can watch a movie. We made a whole list while we were stuck in traffic.”

Yeosang hums, you nod in response. Good idea. At this time of year, there's no point in doing anything other than curling up on the sofa together.

You bask in Seonghwa's soft touch until the last moment, and the knowledge that he's proud of you. It's really enjoyable to play good cop, bad cop with Hongjoong, and they don’t scold you twice. Regardless, you need to figure out a way to cheer up that boyfriend of yours who called you adorable, dedicated, and silly all at the same time. 

“So he probably caught it while kissing,” you acknowledge what you've heard by tugging your trousers down after Seonghwa has left you alone.

“Interesting.”

“And understandable. Sounds romantic.”

“Do you want to go back?” Yeosang glances up at you as he pulls towels out of the closet. The look in his eyes is willing. It embarrasses you to know that he would take a single word from you and go back with you into the pouring rain to fulfill that desire.

“I wouldn’t do it in this weather. But, for example, standing in a cool summer drizzle, refreshing after the heat. When me and my partner won’t be so likely to have a fever for a week.”

“Last summer Woo did it with someone. I think it was with Sanie, but I'm not sure. Maybe he caught Hongjoong hyung in a moment of weakness.”

“Really? Is it fashionable to kiss in the rain in our relationship?”

“A bit.” Yeosang undresses completely. 

Your hand is over the laundry basket, you've dropped the last of your clothes in it, yet you don't move. You’re looking at Yeosang. At his naked back, how rainwater is dripping from his hair, onto his delicate muscles. The line of his shoulder blades as his back narrows, ending in the lovely hips you'd hold in your hands for days. And of course you can't neglect his ass or his thighs or his whole being, because once you start looking at him, one part of him is not enough, and the whole of him is overwhelmingly wonderful.

He turns back to you. “Are you coming?”

“Sure.” You follow him into the bath. You take his face in the palm of your hand and kiss him on the lips. “Wooyoung was right.” 

“About what?”

"You're sexy when you're wet," you explain, and at the same time you probably reveal that you were just staring at him.

"He didn't just say that to me, love," he replies, pulling you close. Then he opens the water. The warm, soothing drops fall on your head and drip down your chilled skin. Like rain.

“I have an idea. Let's kiss here like it's raining.”

“Oh,” Yeosang smiles sweetly. His thumb caresses your cheek. “Okay.”

And you shower until the hot water runs out.