#that wasn’t exactly what you said but it was the essence

[bookwyrminspiration]

Thank you for this canon information <3 ily

do you remember that one time you described me as like the librarian/archivist of the keeper fandom? with my friendly dragon companions cataloging and keeping order as best we could in the depths of this series? who you could call upon for information when you needed? because i have never forgotten

[merakidoll]

“one two choso coming for you” the man sung as he walked through the woods. you weren’t very good at the game you decided to play, asking your super hot boyfriend to chase you around his rich parents backyard which happened to be woods wasn’t one of your best ideas. but the adrenaline rush was magical.

choso knew exactly where you were. your vanilla scent not hard to miss, and the shadows the moon casted wasn’t helping. as you ran naked as the day you were born you heart pumped rapidly, skin tingly and mind blank like the airhead you truly were. you aren’t sure how you missed it- well him. running then got knocked down by a hard tree; except it wasn’t a tree, but choso who towered over you. his large buff frame clad in his usual black, the black eye liner defining his beautiful eyes.

but what made him look extra yummy was how he stared down at you with a smirk. lip piercing shining as he bit his lip letting his black jeans fall, no underwear in sight and his cock free falling back to hit his stomach the cropped shirt didn’t cover. “oh no. my baby scared?” he foreign care sent wetness gushing down your thighs, and choso noticed separating your legs with his leather boot and groaning. “such a fuckin slut doll”

using his strength his picked your chubby frame up from the ground and sat your directly on his cock. he ignored the chocked gasp, and fucked into you not letting your little hole get used to such a big thing stretching it as if your cunt wasn’t already molded just for him. “thata girl” choso encouraged, groaning in your ear when you began to bounce on him, your arms around his neck tears falling from your chubby cheeks while the most desperate sounds passed your pouty lips. “t- too much cho h-hold on!” but choso was never nice, ever.

and instead pushed all the way out of you moaning at the slick string that connectd the fat head of his cock to your cream hole then slammed right back in. rocking his hips with a satisfied grunt when how you squirted over him. his abs, bottom of his black shirt, thighs, and most importantly cock and balls, soaked in your essence. “fuckkk” he said looking at the dripping orgasm, eyes shutting and his hands holding the bottom of your ass to bounce you down onto him. skins slapping together until he stilled spilling his long thick orgasm into your greedy pussy.

let’s just say it wasn’t the last time you both did that.

[brokenmenswhore]

potions | regulus black

pairing: regulus black x fem!reader

summary: regulus invites his potions partner over to his family home to “help her practice”

warnings: DUBCON (MDNI 18+), choking, smut, rough sex

────── ☾ ──────

When Regulus invited you into his home to use his in-house potions lab, you were suspicious. Regulus always had a darkness to him, and as your potions partner, he was never cruel to you, but he wasn’t the type to make such a kind gesture.

You accepted, knowing you could really use the extra practice. Regulus was talented at potions, and you felt bad that you were barely any help in class. As strange as it may be, you figured some extra time would benefit you, and Regulus could teach you and thing or two, if he felt kind enough to do so.

“Come on in,” he said, gesturing you through the door.

You smiled as you followed him through the house, the lighting almost as dark as his all-black outfit.

“I keep my potions stuff in here,” he said, pushing open the door to his bedroom.

“In your bedroom?”

“Mhm,” he responded, completely nonchalant about the fact you were in his personal space, while you felt it was a little strange. You didn’t know him too well, though you were attracted to him, and now you were only a few feet away from his bed.

He walked over to the table. “You coming?”

You swallowed and approached him, looking at the large collection of jars and ingredients spread out on the table.

“Should we maybe let your parents know I’m here? That there’s someone else in the house?”

Regulus chuckled. “The only other person here is my brother.”

“Sirius is here?”

Regulus shot you a look. You and Sirius had a weird past- you hooked up a few times at parties, you caught feelings and he didn’t, and you never spoke again. It was all ancient history, but you still tried to avoid being around him at all costs.

“Why does it matter?” Regulus asked.

“It doesn’t,” you spoke in a small voice, drifting your attention to the table, “so? What first?”

“Figured we could maybe just make sure you’re set on ingredients,” Regulus said. Everything he said was so dry, low, and monotone, and it sometimes made conversation hard.

“I think I’m comfortable with the ingredients side of things,” you told him.

“You’re not.”

You furrowed your brow and looked at him. “Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes I am!” you fought, “I know my own skill levels, Regulus.”

“I don’t think you do.”

He was so nonchalant about everything, reorganizing ingredients and setting up potion recipes as he spoke, as if anything he said didn’t matter.

You sighed and gave up fighting it, letting him take control and decide where to go from here. There was no point in going back and forth on the same thing over and over again.

“How about we just start with Shrinking Solution?” Regulus asked.

“Fine by me,” you answered.

Regulus backed away from the table, watching you do nothing. You looked back at him. Did he expect you to just do it?

“Well?” he said, “make the potion.”

You sighed. Sometimes he was so annoying and condescending. You looked at the unlabeled recipe and removed 7 red rose petals from a case of singular petals.

You began to drop them one-by-one in the boiling water. You looked at Regulus, who nodded at you to keep going. “How difficult,” you said sarcastically.

Remus folded his arms in front of his chest, watching you carefully.

You added five drops of essence of violet, stirring counterclockwise exactly twelve times.

“I don’t remember shrinking solution having essence of violet,” you told Regulus.

“Are you claiming my recipes are wrong?”

“No, I’m just saying.” You sighed and continued with the recipe, counting out 4 cloves and prepping canary flight feathers.

He didn’t say a word, just watching you make the potion, until you had completed the instructions.

“I also don’t remember it being pink,” you pouted, looking confused at the pot.

“I could have sworn this potion had daisy roots somewhere-“

“Would you relax?” Regulus questioned.

“Something just feels off about it,” you said, inspecting the liquid.

“Does it smell right?” he asked.

You leaned in and sniffed. The potion smelt like lavender, vanilla, freshly cut grass, and all your favorite smells.

The smell maintained throughout the smoke that you breathed in, overtaking your senses and filling your lungs. “Fuck that smells good,” you giggled.

Regulus crept behind you as silently as he could. When you stood up, he was directly behind you, your back almost banging into his torso.

You spun around to meet his gaze. “Can I help you with something?” you asked.

“I don’t know, can you?”

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you were suddenly overtaken with adoration.

“I think I probably can,” you said, all logic going out the window as the potion took over your emotions, your focus completely on Regulus.

“Atta girl,” he tsked, gripping your waist as he looked down at you. “How you feelin’, pretty girl?”

You were overcome with intense emotion, but you fought to remain grounded in reality. “You motherfucker,” you said, letting Regulus know that you were aware he had you make the wrong potion. This was not Shrinking Solution, this was Amortentia.

“No idea what you’re referring to,” he said.

“You know,” you started, twirling his already wavy hair in your fingers, “you could have just asked if you wanted me.”

“Now could I?” he asked, intrigued and eager to hear you continue talking.

“Mhm.”

“I thought I wasn’t your type.”

“Why?”

“You slept with my brother, did you not?”

Your eyes widened a bit. “And you know that how?”

“He’s my brother,” he said, holding you closer to him, his tone finally lifting to a bit lighter of a place, “and I’ve been keeping tabs on you.”

You giggled. “Have not.”

“I have been,” he admitted, “had to make sure you weren’t fucking anyone who didn’t deserve you.”

“I haven’t been fucking anyone,” you told him honestly.

“I know.”

“You wanna know why?”

His gaze darkened.

You sighed, “the only person I’ve wanted to fuck is standing right in front of me.”

Regulus growled, gripping your waist even harder and pulling you even closer. “Then what did I do all this work for? Getting you over here, the Amortentia, you’re telling me I worked for it for nothing?”

“Maybe,” you giggled, amused at how much thought and planning went into getting you here. You weren’t obvious about your attraction to him, but it couldn’t be that hard to notice.

“I feel drunk on you,” you admitted.

Regulus smiled. You had never ever seen him smile before. You didn’t even know he was capable.

“You’re so pretty when you smile,” you said genuinely, a hand moving upward so you could run a thumb over his cheek.

He couldn’t help himself anymore, he crashed his lips onto yours. Your hand found it’s way to the back of his head, holding him closer. You whimpered into the kiss, desperation overtaking your body. You couldn’t help it, the scent of the potion was still filling the room, and you were consumed in Regulus.

“I want you,” you said in between kisses, eager to finally get what you wanted.

Regulus didn’t break the kiss or loosen his grip on your waist, but instead inched you closer and closer to the bed. You felt the back of your knees hit the mattress, and you jumped up, attempting to land on the mattress, but Regulus caught you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist.

He leaned over you, your back touching the mattress as you kept your legs around Regulus. He remained standing, the small of your back at the edge of the side of the bed.

Regulus finally broke the kiss, running his hands all over your body and inspecting every single inch of you. “I’m gonna make you scream so loud that Sirius will realize what he’s missing.”

You couldn’t help it, you started laughing. Your heightened emotions won, and the more you tried to stay quiet, the more hysterical your laugh became.

Regulus slapped your thigh. “What the fuck is so funny?”

“You.”

“Shut up,” Regulus demanded, kissing you to distract you from the hysterics in your brain. You melted back into him, forgetting why you were even laughing in the first place.

You were still having too much fun to let him win so easy, and you liked watching him work for it. “Make me.”

Regulus cocked his head to the side. “What did you just say?”

A giggle threatened to leave your lips. “I said make me.”

A hand suddenly squeezed around your throat, not completely cutting off your breath, but stopping your giggling.

Regulus flashed you a wicked smile. “That seemed to work, didn’t it?”

“Y-yes,” you squeaked out.

Regulus moved a hand in between your bodies, cupping your heat from on top of your underwear. You inhaled sharply, desperate for any sort of friction.

Regulus tucked his fingers into the band of your underwear, collecting your wetness with his middle finger as he traced it in between your folds. A sigh of pleasure escapes your lips, and Regulus watched your face intently.

You thought he was going to continue on like this, slowly working you up until you were ready for him, but Regulus had other ideas. Without warning, he shoved two long fingers inside of you, his palm resting on your clit and circling, as his fingers pumped in and out of you.

Your body responded, back arching off the bed, a hand still around your throat. You squirmed a bit, unable to stay still from the sensation.

Regulus watched your chest rise and fall as your back arched and fell, his cock hardening as he watched what he did to you.

He curled his fingers, hitting that gummy sweet spot within you, causing your walls to convulse around his fingers. “That’s it, pretty girl,” he cooed, “come for me.”

His words undid you, the coil of tension within you breaking as you came on his fingers, whines and whimpers constantly filling the room as you calmed down from your high. He pulled his fingers out of you, never breaking eye contact as he sucked your juices off of them.

Once his fingers were licked clean, he unwrapped your legs from his waist, removing his hand from your throat.

“Stay,” he commanded as he untied his pants, pushing them, along with his underwear, down enough to free his hard and swollen cock.

You let out an audible gasp at the size.

“What? Too much for you?”

“How-“ you didn’t even know what to say, “how is that gonna fit in me?”

“I think you’ll be fine, pretty girl.”

Regulus held his palm in front of your mouth. “Spit.”

You did as he said, and he used your spit to wet his cock, lining up his tip with your entrance.

“You want this?” he asked.

“Yes, Reg,” you replied.

Regulus almost showed you mercy when he heard the nickname, it just sounded so pretty coming from you, but he still didn’t. “Beg for it.”

You nodded your head no in protest.

A hand grabbed your face, pushing your lips out and positioning your head so that you had no choice but to look him in the eye. “Beg. For. It.”

“P-please, Regulus I n-“

Regulus slapped your cheek, hard. You gasped at the pain, almost stunned that he did such a thing.

“Use that pretty little nickname you called me.”

“Please, Reg, I need it, p-please-“

Regulus shoved his length into you, a moan of his name leaving your lips.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Regulus growled, setting a steady pace as he pumped in and out of you. He tugged at the bottom of your dress. “Off.”

You did your best to pull your dress off without interrupting his pace, struggling for a minute but eventually succeeding. Regulus leaned in and bit at your bra strap, snapping it back onto your body. He kisses the top of your breasts, shoving your nipples out of the cups, his tongue immediately sucking on one of them.

“Fuck!” you cried out, the pleasure of his mouth on your breasts and his cock splitting you open, and the scent of the potion still filled your nose, almost feeling like too much.

“Louder,” he demanded, serious when he said he would make you scream so loud that Sirius could hear you.

“Fuck, Reg!” you screamed at the top of your lungs, his pace quickening as you did so.

“Good girl,” he praised.

He sucked a sweet spot on your neck, your head rolling to the side to give him even more access.

He was slamming into you, the bed squeaking as your body rocked back and forth. Your legs were weak as they fell off the side of the bed, but Regulus didn’t want the position to change. He grabbed both of your legs, positioning them over his shoulders and fucking into you even deeper.

You squeaked and whined, not even capable of any genuine moans anymore.

“You gonna come again, huh? All over my cock?” Regulus gasped out.

“Mhm.”

“Words, pretty girl.”

“Y- yes!” you squealed, your high hitting you again as you squeezed his cock, a groan leaving Regulus’s mouth as he fucked you while you came, pace never faltering as you attempted to come down from your high.

Regulus was still chasing his own, his lips enveloping yours in a heated kiss as he snapped his hips as fast as he could until he came inside of you, erratic breaths and sighs spilling into the kiss.

“Fuck,” he said, running his fingers through his hair that was sweat slicked and falling in front of his face.

“God, I needed that,” you said, attempting to catch your breath as Regulus laid down next to you.

Regulus didn’t respond, he just stared at the ceiling, calming himself down.

“Reg?” you asked.

“Mhm?”

“You didn’t bring me here just to fuck me and piss your brother off, right?” you asked.

Regulus turned to you. “Do you think that low of me?”

“No. I’m just curious,” you explained.

“No, I didn’t bring you here to piss my brother off,” he answered, “it’s just a massive, massive plus.” He rolled over the placed a kiss on your lips.

[minhosimthings]

Both || 18+

Synopsis: it's literally just porn I have no explanation

Pairings: bf!Heeseung × fem!reader × bf!Jake

Warnings: Smut MINORS DNI, oral ( f recieving), poly relationship, dom!Heeseung, dom!Jake, sub!reader, fingering, double penetration, p in v sex, rough sex, dirty talk, mean dom Heeseung, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, anal sex eyy, dacryphillia

A/N: so if any of you remember the symphony smut series, then you'll remember how the Skz threesome fic I had with MinChan was originally meant for HeeJake, but I didn't write it due to certain issues. BUT ITS HERE NOW. And no I didn't write a completely different fic, I just replaced the names from the original fix and rewrote some of the dialogue.

Original SKZ Version

Living with two boyfriends had been a much livelier experience than you would had initially thought. Or perhaps it was because they were Heeseung and Jake was what made it lively.

They were completely opposite to each other in all aspects. Which especially showed in the bedworks.

Heeseung was your drug for slavery while Jake was your poison for salvation.

Their duality was what turned you on, they could call you their little princess and give you as much pleasure as you wanted or they could tell you that you're their slut, with a pussy made only for them.

So it was no surprise that when you got mad with one, you went to another.

And on one fine Tuesday evening that's exactly what happened.

•••••••••••••••

"Princess are you alright?" Jake peeked his head around the door, his eyes taking time to adjust to the dim light. His ears were working though, and your sobs broke his heart. He didn't like it when you argued with Heeseung. He knew both of you were competitive, and competition never lead to much success, it usually led to tears and ignoring one another.

"If he sent you here-" you hiccuped, looking up at Jake, "Tell him I'm never going to talk to him again."

"You're so adorable." He chuckled, leaning in to kiss you, his hands on your hips, "How about a little session hmm? To get your mind off things?"

"What if he hears?"

“Hyung has his headphones in” he breathes out, slowly leaning in to kiss you. you meet him halfway, lips colliding against one another as his hand starts to trail down the curve of your waist. He pulls apart for a second, placing a quick peck before he speaks again. “He won't hear what he's missing.”

Jake makes quick work of the pants you had on, tearing them down your thighs as his primal instincts starts to kick in. In seconds, his head is buried in between your thighs, nose pressed against your clit.

“darling-“ he breathes out, absolutely in awe of how delicious you’re going to taste for him right now. “this is…” he trails off, unsure if words could describe how much this means to him.

“Never seen you so speechless before.” You tease, trying not to squirm under his gaze, his eyes locked onto the wet slick pooling at your entrance.

“What can I say?” he presses a kiss just above your clit, eyes darting up to yours. “I like having you all to myself.”

You open your mouth to retort but his tongue catches your throbbing nub first, sending a jolt throughout your body. After that first taste, he’s gone. completely lost in you and the frenzy begins. He tosses your leg over his shoulder, angling himself to get deeper.

His tongue delves back into you and you feel him everywhere. It’s enough to arch your back, your fingers clawing in his hair. He grunts approvingly into your messy cunt, licking up every little speck of drink he can get his mouth on.

Each precise stroke of Jake's tongue has you unraveling in his hold, undoubtedly gushing more of your essence on his eagerly awaiting mouth. He was practically moaning now, the vibrations shooting throughout your body. He breaks for air for a moment, licking his lips and looking up to you.

It’s all too much and you’d be lying if you said his enthusiasm wasn’t the driving force towards your release. you’d never been with a man so desperate for your taste, especially when you were in this state.

Your back starts to arch off the bedroll, reeling in the pleasure that’s about to snap. The coil shatters into a thousand pieces as you dig your fingers into his curls once again. You don’t know if you were loud or not, you don’t know anything as a white veil had taken up your vision, pleasure coursing through your veins as your blood pounds within your ears.

It takes a few moments for you to come back down to reality, your head swimming in the pleasure Jake hurtled you in. You watch as he places one last kiss against your cunt, slowly backing up on his haunches.

"Having fun there aren't you?"

Oh fucking no

You snapped your head up to look at the doorway, where your eyes fell on the image of Heeseung, casually leaning against the door, shit eating smirk on his face.

"Want a taste? I'm done." Jake got off the bed and plopped onto the nearby armchair.

"So the plan did work." Heeseung chuckled, taking off his jacket, and striding across the room, looking at your confused figure with bedroom eyes.

"What fucking plan?" You spat with venom in your tone, making Heeseung click his tongue together.

"Jaeyun here offered to help me after our little 'argument'." Heeseung dipped the bed down with his weight, "And let's just say, now that you're all riled like our pretty princess-" he took off his belt, "You won't refuse my fingers will you?"

"Fuck you Lee Heeseung, and you too." You directed the last part at Jake who merely shrugged his shoulders, and lounged on the armchair.

You gasped as Heeseung cupped your pussy, involuntarily clenching around nothing and feeling a gush of wetness spilling as your body reacted in anticipation.

"Aww did you miss me that much?"

“Use your fingers properly and find out.”

Your taunt didn’t go amiss. “Not even a sorry?” he said, arrogance dripping from each word.

Much to your frustration, your hips rolled into his touch, silently wishing he would stop avoiding your swell. Heeseung's hands worked quickly to unbutton your shirt. You knew all too well that you’d feel his cock hard enough if he was already this eager to expose your breasts. Your nipples quickly hardened and you rolled your hips once more, causing one of his fingers to slide inside.

It was the vicious clenches around his finger that snapped him out of it and his lustful eyes met yours. “Give me one reason not to slide out of you.”

"Jake's cock is getting hard and you don't want to disappoint him do you? He is the favourite in this relationship right?" You grumbled, feeling Heeseung's finger slide across your pussy. You tried your hardest not to moan.

Heeseung threw a glance at Jake who was chuckling behind his fingers, his cock almost bursting through his trousers. A second finger slithered past your tightness and he brought his lips to your ear.

“You're right. He is my favourite, but he doesn't have a pussy like yours does he?”

Your whimpers increased in intensity and you looped your arms around his neck for added support, lifting one leg to wrap around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go knuckle-deep and you shuddered as his strained erection pressed against his hand nudged him even deeper.

He groaned first, clearly enjoying the newfound friction, and you clenched hard at how his face twisted in pleasure. His lips brushed against yours this time, dragging his fingers back as you clenched desperately around him.

“What happened darling?” Heeseung taunted as you tried to have him back inside, your hips following his retreating hand. “That desperate for my fingers?”

"Selfish little princess” He continued, sliding one finger back inside, but not quite deep enough to fully satisfy you. “You know, I can be quite greedy when I want to. But..."

You whined in response, frustrated that you were now faced with an agonising emptiness.

“But what?” you groaned, trying to have him sink deeper to no avail. He placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth before pulling back.

“But I am willing to share you with Jake for a bit.”

The moans and whimpers and gasps that slipped from you were being effectively muffled, the third finger nudged at your entrance and you could only roll your eyes shut as your bit hard around your tongue to not give Heeseung the satisfaction.

“Surely you can take one more,” he teased, his voice low. It slid inside painfully slowly and the stretch had you gasping.

The combination of being so full of him and how he allowed you to rub your clit on his palm was too much. The lewd sounds were almost too obscene and you gripped both hands together, holding onto the remainder of the sanity you had left.

For a brief moment, Heeseung allowed you to ride three of his fingers, giving you the illusion that you’d reach your peak easily and rather quickly. His generosity came to an abrupt halt just as you felt the familiar coil down below becoming more and more overwhelming, your body quickly reaching the point of no return.

And then you felt a painful emptiness as he pulled out from you at once.

He chuckled when you groaned in sheer frustration, looking over at Jake and giving him a smirk too.

Of course. He was a sadist.

“Now, now,” Heeseung tutted, caressing your flushed cheek with his thumb, a single tear streaming down your face. “You didn’t think I would be that generous, did you?” 

"Fuck you both so much."

"Well if you say so doll." Jake shrugged his shoulders again and got up, getting onto the bed as well.

"Only if she stays silent though." Heeseung chuckles like a madman. Fuck you, you thought, but you couldn't get the words out. Jake removes his underwear, and you suddenly don’t feel so sure that you can take anymore.

“i-I” you can’t get the words out as a moan slips from your lips, when he enters you in one thrust. Your head falls back and your eyes close at the feeling of his thick length inside you. Had he always been this big?

“Fuck you're tight” Jake groans.

“Oh fuck.” You breath, feeling too full and overwhelmed already, and he hasn’t even moved yet.

“How does she feel?" Heeseung asks Jake. “So. Fucking. Tight” he groans as he slowly starts moving.

“oh fuuuck” you moan, unable to stay silent. Your hands search for something to hold on to, and they reach Jake's dark curls

“Does it feel good darling?” Heeseung whispers in your ear as he stretches your ass with his fingers.

“f-fuck y-yes” you breath out as Jake picks up speed.

"You like Jake fucking you while I stretch your ass?”

“Yes” you moan again.

“Good girl, look how well you’re taking us." Heeseung's hot breath tickles your skin pink.

Jake groans as he picks up speed, hitting that one spot inside you that makes you scream. Heeseung's hand clamps over your mouth again “what did I say about keeping silent darling?” he says mockingly.

“Fuck you're ready to cum again aren’t you? I feel you fucking clamping on my fingers” Heeseung groans.

“please” you beg them, but the sound is muffles by Heeseung's hand.

“what was that darling….you want it harder and…deeper?” Jake says mockingly. “I think she said she wants it harder hyung.” he says.

You try to shake your head, it’s already to much but Jake picks up speed even faster and Heeseung pushes a third finger in your ass. You come so hard you see stars. But both men don’t stop. No, they continue their ungodly rhythm.

You close your eyes enjoying the feeling. Your eyes shoot open when you feel Jake’s cock move through your folds. "Jaeyun..” you gasps as he puts himself against your entrance.

“you wanted us both, so you get us both” Jake says darkly before he slowly thrusts inside you. Your vision blurs at the overwhelming fullness you feel. “fuck I can fucking feel you” Heeseung mutters to Jake.

“fuck” Jake groans in response. You already feeling another orgasm rise.

“please…please” you have no idea what you’re begging for, the stimulation overwhelming you.

“cum for us” Jake orders as he starts moving in and out of you again.

Heeseung lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him, kissing him deeply. “No, I can’t. please” you beg. “You can do one more darling”

“hmmhhmmm f-ffuuuckk” you have no idea where the sounds are coming from that leave you, and who might hear. But you’re too far gone to care. You only feel them. Jake and Heeseung as they thrust in and out of your holes in a brutal pace.

“oh fuck…FUCK!” you scream out as yet another orgasm breaks you. you feel the both of them come inside you almost at the same time. You have no idea if you're still cuming or if it’s another orgasm.

Their thrusts turned slow but remained powerful as they bottomed out, hitting you as far back as they could. You gasped with every rut of Jake's hips hitting yours, and Heeseung's little moans cornering your ears.

Jake's hand aimlessly stroked your hair. he pulled back to look at you, smiling at the sight of your flushed face and disheveled hair.

“see. knew you could take it.” Jake kissed the tip of your nose, regretfully pulling out of you, you felt Heeseung do the same from behind. You whined at the loss—you had got so used to the feeling of them inside you, it was almost painful for them to leave.

"Princess?" Heeseung asks uncertainly, "you alright?"

"I'll forgive you if both of you do that everyday." You breathe out, being wrapped safely into Jake's arms.

"Well if you say so." Heeseung chuckles and smirks at Jake, who smiles back and wraps both of you tighter into a cocoon of comfort.

[syluriar]

please...help me - sylus x mc!reader. part 1

sypnosis: you call sylus to escape caleb.

a/n: i know i'm not the only one who thought this, a lot of us sylus girlies wanted to call out man and get him our of sjyhaven ASAP. so i wrote this little fic for that, and as you can tell by the title this is just part 1. ofc that means there'll be a part 2, maybe a part 3??? let's wait and see :)

warning: caleb being possessive (yandere??). mc (you) feeling uncomfortable and scared of caleb. hurt and some comfort by sylus (i luv you<3 ). this is rushed and like all my fics, have no grammer check.

word count: 990

RING RING

The vibration of the phone rang loudly through the bathroom, the one place Caleb grants you privacy. More than one you were thankful that he wasn’t here, his duty calling him out to do some work, work that you don’t question anymore, exactly how he likes it.

“I’ll be back soon, Pip-squeak,” He said with a tone meaning for warmth, but you feel the opposite, especially when he looks at you with a smile, the one you remember from your childhood, but it’s not the same anymore. 

“Don’t cause any ruckus, ok? We don’t need a repeat of last time.” 

You shudder at the memory, the way his hand had gripped your wrist and dragged you to your bedroom and placed you not so gently on your bed, scolding you not following his orders and locked you in. He would only allow you to come out for food and he would watch you the whole time you ate, sending shivers of fear down your spine the more it went on. It lasted for two weeks, after that you had a bit more freedom, but every night he would announce it was time for you to sleep and lock you in the bedroom, the next would be the same.

And you hated it. You hated how different he was, how much he had changed since you last saw him. Where was the Caleb that joked around with you? The one that always picked you up when you were feeling down? The one that would wipe away your tears and hold you close? 

Where’s one where you felt safe with? 

Gone. He was all gone, and he scared you. You couldn’t stay here any longer, to try and get the old Caleb back. You had enough of being ordered around and being scared. 

RING RING

Despite Caleb’s watchful eye you managed to snag a new phone as he confiscated yours, checking though all your data to make sure you couldn’t leave, Luckily you thought he would do that and got rid of anything that would get you into trouble; contacts, messages and pictures in your camera roll. So far he hasn’t commented on anything which you pat yourself on the back for.

Another thing your proud of is remembering a phone number, just one that you know would get you out of here.

RING RING

“Please pick up…” You whispered desperately. You have called the number twice now, and you hope people are right when people say third time's the charm, because you needed as much luck as possible right now.

RING RING - 

“I must say your persistence to get hold of me is both annoying and -”

“Sylus!” You couldn’t hold back the happiness as you heard his voice, it had been so long since you last heard it.

“...Is that you, sweetie?”

“It is.” You answer, the endearing name making you blush instantly. 

“Who’s phone are you calling on? Did you get a new phone and not tell me?”

“I’ll tell you that later but I need you to listen to me.” Time was of the essence, and you didn’t want to waste any of it. “I need you to track this phone and come help me.”

“Help you?” His tone held confusion. “What trouble have you gotten into now?”

“Don’t ask. I just need you to come to Skyhaven and get me out of here, fast.” You spoke hastily, you might have sounded desperate, but right now you don’t care. 

“You sound weird, kitten. Are you alright?”

Trust him to take notice. “Please, Sylus. I can’t get out of here and I’m….” You take a deep breath, tears threatening to spill. “I’m scared.”

His answer was instant. “I’m coming, sweetie. Don’t worry, I’ll get you out in no time.”

It’s like a weight is lifted off your shoulders, your heart is lighter and a smile graces your lips. “Thank you. Please hurry Sylus, I don’t like it here.”

“I can tell, sweetie. I’ll destroy everything if it means getting you out.”

“Maybe don’t go that far, there are innocent people here.”

“The ones that hold you against your will are nowhere near innocent.”

You grimace as you think about Caleb, a small piece of you feeling guilty for this, but you needed to get out of here, and if that meant hurting Caleb to escape…then so be it.

Looking at the time, you realise you’ve been left on your own for a while, and Calen would be due back soon. The last thing you wanted was for him to find you like this. “I have to go now, but I’ll see you later?”

“As soon as possible, sweetie. I’ve been making arrangements since you first said you needed my help.”

You end the call quickly and stash within your period products, you knew that Caleb never came in your bathroom, but just in case he changed his mind, at least you knew he wouldn’t search through them.

But now your body is full of nerves, you can’t believe you managed to get through to Sylus, even more so that he’s coming to get you. You just have to wait and keep playing Caleb’s game till he comes, which he assured you will be as soon as possible. In Sylus’ language, that could be within a few minutes to an hour. You hope it’s the first option, but you were determined to wait if that’s what it took.

Before leaving the bathroom you remind yourself to go back to your usual personality that Caleb likes, if he see’s any of your happiness he’ll question it, and you don’t know how long you can lie and fake it for. 

So you lower your excitement, lose your smile and take a few deep breaths to calm your beating heart. Once your assured that you’ve gone back to the obedience look, you open the bathroom door - 

“Have a nice phone call, Pip-squeak?”

[keeryhours]

the emperor’s love - emperor geta

Emperor Geta x Empress! female! reader

Main Masterlist

Emperor Geta Masterlist

Summary:

Being pregnant with his heir has made Geta more in love with you than he ever could have imagined. He shows you just how much he loves you.

Part 1

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected p in v, fingering, creampie, pregnancy

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N:

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write for Geta again, but he is actually living in my brain rent free. Another one inspired by my character letters by @miss-bushido, check out her writing and Etsy shop! I did research for this one, but I apologize in advance for historical inaccuracies! This is a part 2 to an heir for an emperor!

—

“I think it’s going to be a boy,” Geta mused, hand roaming over the growing expanse of your stomach. “A strong boy. The future of Rome is in your belly, you know that, Carissima?”

“And what if it’s a girl?” you asked, a giggle on your lips bringing a smile to the Emperor’s own.

“Then she shall take after her mother and be the most beautiful in all of Rome,” he said, hand caressing the skin of your belly. “And I’ll have to give you another.”

“Geta!” You playfully scolded, hand swatting at his as he laughed. “Another so soon?”

“Of course, my love. I need an heir. And to see you, swollen with child again so soon…” he leaned forward, pressing kisses to your neck. “Would be a gift. The gods have truly blessed me.”

You hummed, melting into his touch. You were sprawled together on your huge bed, dressed in your bed clothes for the night. His body curled behind yours, hands roaming your body wherever he pleased. Up and over your breasts, pinching at your nipples before moving back to your stomach; then down between your legs, feeling for the wetness he knew would be waiting for him.

“My love…” he whispered seductively against your ear. “Is there something you want?”

You whined, pressing back against him. He knew what you wanted, and he wanted it too. You could feel him already hard against your backside as he dipped his fingers between your folds. He collected your slick on his fingers and brought them to his lips, sucking them clean, tasting your essence. “Divine,” he remarked. “Somehow, you taste even sweeter.”

He lifted your tunic over your body, baring you to the night and his eyes alone. His hands trailed over your soft skin, so beautiful and flawless in his eyes. Perfection sent to him from the gods themselves.

Geta undid his own robe, revealing his glorious body fully naked, cock hard and standing proud as he gazed down at you. “You are so beautiful, Carissima.” His tongue darted out to lick his lips as he drank in your beauty. “Will you sing for me tonight?”

You giggled, knowing he didn’t exactly mean a ballad. “Perhaps if I feel inspired, my Emperor…”

A wicked smile crossed his face as he leaned over you, kissing up your body until he reached your lips. “Oh, how beautiful a melody I could pull from those lips…let me show you.”

He gently moved you onto your side, careful of your stomach. Geta had treated you like you were made of glass since he discovered your pregnancy. He had been overjoyed, but if you thought he was overprotective before, he became a whole different beast with his beloved wife carrying his potential heir.

He consulted the augurs at the beginning of your pregnancy. Since then he has prayed daily to the goddesses of childbirth; Eileithyia, Hera, Juno. He has left them daily offerings at their temples and shrines to ensure the safe delivery of your child.

You always had an entourage with you with your servant staff, but now you had a guard of Praetorians following your every move, as well. Even servants to taste your food before you could eat. Speaking of your food, Geta suddenly insisted on you receiving the healthiest, finest foods in the Empire. He still allowed you your fig cakes, at least.

The only time you got any peace, any time alone, were these cherished nights in bed with your Emperor. When he dropped his cruel and ruthless persona and became your husband. He would take care of you, massage your belly with oils each night. It was your favorite part of the day.

Once you were comfortably laid on your side, Geta moved back behind you, his body spooning against yours. He brushed your hair back over your shoulder, placing kisses against the skin of your back. “Do you remember our wedding night?”

“How could I forget?” You smiled, the memory rushing back to you. It had been less than a year, but felt like a lifetime.

It had been a beautiful ceremony. Everything you could have dreamed of. Your father had been proud to marry his daughter to an Emperor. The augurs had been consulted by Geta himself to ensure propitious omens and favor from the gods. You wore your beautiful white tunica recta, a gorgeous veil atop your head. There had been a delicious cake, as he had heard of your sweet tooth beforehand.

Afterwards, Geta took you to the bridal lectus, where he took you apart piece by piece until you were nothing but writhing pleasure beneath him.

Geta hummed against your back. “Do you remember how I surprised you in your chambers before the ceremony?”

You blushed. Of course you did. It had been such a surprise to find Geta waiting for you in your chambers, you weren’t even supposed to see him before the ceremony. You had been scared at first, you still hardly knew one another and you had heard plenty of stories, but his plans for you had been more than pleasing.

“I simply had to have a taste of my bride to be,” he continued. “It was all I could think about once I saw you for the first time. It plagued me those three months of our betrothal leading up until our ceremony. It was all I could think of when I was alone. Even just touching your hand to place the ring on your finger…” You felt Geta shiver behind you. “Carissima, I was yours, body and soul.”

He reached down to grasp onto your thigh, lifting it up and over his own leg between yours. You felt his thick tip prodding at your entrance, and you sighed, already so responsive for him.

“You’ve been so sensitive since you have been carrying our child,” he remarked as his fingertips traced slowly over your clit, before dipping down to press inside of you. You gasped loudly - you could feel his smirk against your skin. “I absolutely love it.”

You moaned as he pumped his fingers into you a few more times, but you were so wet you really didn’t need any preparation. He removed his fingers, sucking them clean with a groan, before pressing his tip against your pussy once again.

He didn’t ask before he started sinking inside - the Emperor did not ask for permission. But he knew you would have given it over and over again had he asked. Your head fell back against him as he filled you from behind, holding your leg up high to allow him enough room to get as deeply inside as he liked to be.

He bottomed out quickly and began thrusting in and out of your perfect tight heat, groaning deeply against your neck. His fingertips dug into your thigh as he fucked you like you needed to be fucked. He knew your body better than anyone, even yourself.

“Carissima,” he moaned; a weakness in his voice he would never let anyone else witness. It was raspy, desperate for more of the perfect fit of your pussy. He called your name over and over again in your ear, the title never sounding more sinful than it did in that moment.

“You feel so good,” you whined, your hips bucking back to meet his thrusts, to have him fuck you harder. He didn’t like to take you roughly with you in your current state, not like he used to. You missed it desperately. “Please, my Emperor, take me harder.”

Geta groaned loudly at your words, his composure faltering as his sloppy thrusts stuttered. “My beloved,” he said, his raspy voice pained. “Do not say things such as that. You do not know how hard it is to keep my control.”

“Please,” you begged again, back arching as you felt your release beginning to build. “Please, Geta, please fuck me.”

His grip tightened on your thigh and he groaned again, like you were causing him physical pain. He thought to deny you once again, but his primal instincts took over and he began fucking into you fast and hard. The sound of his skin slapping against yours filled the room, and you were certain between that and the moans you were both emitting, the entire palace could hear your lovemaking.

“Close,” you whined out, eyes falling closed as your orgasm built faster and faster. You could feel your pussy beginning to clench around his cock, and he felt it too, his hips stuttering again as he neared his own imminent release.

“Sing for me,” he encouraged you, laying your thigh on his leg so he could move his hand between your legs. You cried out loudly as he paid delicious attention to your aching clit, and your orgasm hit you, pussy spasming hard around your Emperor’s thick cock.

“That’s it, Carissima, let all of Rome hear how you sing for me!”

Geta gripped back onto your thigh, fucking into you fast and hard with no rhythm until he finally stilled pressed against you, shooting rope after rope of his seed deep inside you as he let out the most divine moans you’d ever heard.

He rode out both of your releases, shallow thrusts until all of his cum had been spent inside of you. He pulled out, laying on his back next to you as his chest heaved with his breaths. He opened an arm for you, and you laid against him.

These moments of bliss were your absolute favorite. These moments of quiet and peace and love between you and your husband. It was rare for an Emperor to find a true love like this. Rare for a woman to be so lucky in her marriage. You reminded yourself of your fortune often.

You reached up, playing with a lock of his ginger hair. He smiled down at you lovingly, the look on his face one of pure adoration. The truth of it was seen in his eyes, to his very soul.

“The child will be here soon,” Geta said, his hand once again splayed on your large belly. “I have arranged for celebratory games to be held for the next two weeks. I want all of Rome to join in our celebrating the forthcoming birth of our heir.”

You turned to him. “Geta, I’m not sure I should-“

“Shh, my love,” he hushed you. “You do not have to attend, anaticula. I know you do not care for them. And I would rather keep you both safe from harm.”

You smiled gently at your husband. Somehow, he continued to surprise you with how much he loved and cared for you, and now the child in your belly, too. You knew no matter if it was a boy or a girl, Geta would be the perfect father, would love this child fiercely. He would not let harm come to either of you.

“He needs a strong name,” he thought to himself. “Lucius. Septimius. But perhaps we should meet him first? See what kind of personality he will have?”

“We do not yet know if it will be a he,” you teased him, your hand resting on your belly next to his. You felt a small kick beneath your hand and quickly grabbed Geta’s, moving it to that exact spot. After a moment of waiting, a grin spread across the Emperor’s face, pure jubilation evident in his eyes.

“Boy or girl, they’re nice and strong,” he said, a note of pride in his voice. “I love you, Carissima.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, my beloved.”

Geta rubbed your belly gently, soothing your nausea and pains as you relaxed into him in your large, plush bed. As you began to drift off to sleep in the arms of your Emperor, you heard his quiet voice one last time in your ear.

“Nunc scio quid sit amor. Now I know what love is.”

[shybluebirdninja]

Naughty Secrets

Summary: Logan's quiet crush on you turns into an unexpected obsession when he finds your used underwear in your room.

Pairing           : Logan Howlett x Fem!Human-reader

Note               : masturbation, erotic obsession

Logan leaned against the kitchen counter, casually sipping his beer, while you gathered your things to head out for the evening. The soft sound of your laughter echoed around the apartment, filling him with warmth. You turned to him, tossing your bag over your shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll be back late, so don’t wait up, okay?” you said, flashing a bright smile. Logan felt his heart race, a flicker of something deep within him igniting.

“Sure, no problem. Just don’t get into too much trouble,” he teased, trying to keep it light, even though his mind was swirling with thoughts he couldn’t quite voice. You rolled your eyes playfully, waving goodbye as you headed out the door.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, a heavy silence filled the apartment, and Logan felt the familiar pang of longing wash over him. With you gone, a potent mix of curiosity and desire consumed him. He hesitated for a moment, feeling the magnetic pull of your room. After a moment, he made his way to your door, heart racing as he pushed it open.

The room was like a shrine to you—the faint scent of your favorite perfume still lingered in the air, mingling with something more intoxicating. As Logan's eyes roamed your space, he stumbled upon a pair of your used panties tossed aside carelessly on the bed. They beckoned to him, their fabric wrinkled and stained, a testament to your absence and a thrill he couldn’t resist.

“God, what am I doing?” he muttered to himself, his breath hitching as he picked them up, the softness sending shivers down his spine. Bringing them closer, he inhaled deeply, the scent igniting a primal hunger within him. This is so wrong, but I can’t stop.

Thoughts of you flooded his mind—how carefree you were, how you laughed, the way your hair danced around your shoulders. But now, you were just a fantasy he couldn’t shake. “You don’t know how much I want you,” he whispered, gripping the fabric tighter as he sank onto the edge of your bed.

As he held the delicate material to his face, he savored the intoxicating aroma. His fingers brushed over the fabric, imagining your skin beneath it, picturing the way you moved, the way you looked at him when you thought he wasn’t watching.

He growled lowly, “What would you do if you knew? Would you laugh? Would you push me away?” But he was lost in the thrill, losing himself in the fantasies swirling in his mind. “Maybe you’d want this too. Maybe you’d beg for it.”

Logan couldn't hold back any longer. He slid a hand down his body, stroking himself slowly, feeling the heat build as he lost himself in the moment. “Just one taste,” he murmured, his lips brushing against the fabric. He licked the material, tasting remnants of you, groaning at the deliciously filthy act.

With every kiss, every lick, he imagined you right there with him. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed, his voice thick with desire. “I want to hear you moan my name, to feel you beneath me, begging for more.”

His breath quickened, and his grip tightened around himself, pleasure building as he continued to worship the very essence of you. “Just imagine the things I could do to you,” he fantasized, heart racing, pulse pounding. “I’d make you feel so good, you wouldn’t know what hit you.”

The thought of your body writhing under his touch, your soft moans filling the air, sent him spiraling deeper into lust. He envisioned pressing you against the wall, feeling your warmth against him as he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you. “I’d show you exactly what you do to me, how much I crave you.”

Logan surrendered to the dark cravings that had been brewing for far too long, lost in a haze of desire and desperation. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he whispered, gripping your panties tighter, breathing in your scent, feeling himself teeter on the edge of madness. “You’re my secret obsession, and I won’t let anyone take you away from me.”

The line between right and wrong blurred as he surrendered to the hunger inside him, knowing he’d do anything to have you, to make you his.

[mihii-i]

SIZE QUEEN READER WITH ROBIN AHSHDHHAJAHAHA

honey.

Pairing(s): robin x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, dom robin, sub afab reader, size queen reader (obv), pet names, strap on use, crying, overstimulation, belly bulge, tit fondling, drooling, sesbian lex bro idk, fluffy at the end :)

A/N: HELP IS THAT A FUCKING BEAR TRAP??? WHERE DID THAT EVEN COME FROM-? Also sorry if my writing isn’t that great I’m lowkey rusty…

Drool piled up around the corners of your mouth as you desperately clung to the satin bedsheets below you, which were tinted a slightly darker color from your cum stained onto them due to the past few orgasms Robin had practically ripped out of you. Your fingers tightened around the fabric when you felt her strap plunge back into you, your walls tightening around her silicone cock with a death grip.

“What’s wrong, my songbird? I thought you said you could take it.”

Robin leaned down to whisper in your ear in a quiet and gentle voice. Your halovian lover’s warm breath tickled the shell of your ear, eliciting a sharp gasp from your feverish lips. Your sound of surprise was immediately replaced with a loud moan when you felt her hips roll up against yours, her cock hitting that one gummy spot inside you.

Her slender fingers traced up your back, circling along the skin of your nape gently.

“Such a pretty girl..” Robin cooed, leaning down to press her lips against the side of your neck. Her hand snaked downward to circle around your waist while she continued to brush her lips along your throat. She moaned against the crook of your neck when she felt the vibrations of your own throaty noises against her lips.

You nearly screamed the moment you felt her hand dart down to circle your puffy swollen clit, her soft fingers working along your nub gently, mixed with the way her cock stretched you out made your eyes roll to the back of your head. Your grip around the sheets nearly tore up the satin sheets upon feeling the fake veins drag along your walls, with quick and shallow breaths spilling out of your lips.

Robin pushed herself forward once again, burying her strap inside your cunt as far as possible. A melodic whine left the singer’s throat as she ground her hips against yours, the skin to skin contact driving both of you insane. The tip of her cock brushed against your sweet spot, making you cry out.

“R-Robin please-!” You barely drawled out. You could barely form words from how good your girlfriend was fucking you into the mattress. Every little noise you let out cut off any potential words that you could even mutter, which was exactly what Robin wanted. She merely flashed you a lovesick smile when you turned around to look at her through glassy eyes, before thrusting herself into you once again.

Soft fingers suddenly gripped your wrist that was holding the mattress, pushing it down in place. Robin reached her free hand that wasn’t holding you down over to your chin. Her index finger slipped under your chin, and her thumb brushed along your bottom lip, gently tilting your head up to look at her. Her face inched closer to you, closing the distance between you two before she pressed her lips against yours.

“Sweetheart, can you lay on your back?” She whispered, her voice sweet like honey. You nodded, letting out a small whimper when she pulled out to give you room to adjust. You scrambled onto your knees, before rolling over with your back pressed against the mattress. Without hesitation, Robin practically shoved her monstrous strap into you, earning a high pitched yelp. She immediately shoved the whole thing back into you, stretching you out once again.

Filthy noises of her cock sliding in and out of your pussy echoed throughout the room, the wet squelching sounds of your essences practically bouncing off the walls of what’s basically your sanctuary in this moment. Robin only smiled at your tear stained eyes, leaning down to kiss your cheekbone as a rather odd way of wiping away your tears. Then again, both of her hands were occupied, with one hand on your tit, and the other holding your hand.

“(Name)? My songbird? Can you look down for a moment?” Robin breathed in a soft voice, her fingers lacing with yours. You only let out a whine in response, before your teary eyed gaze trailed down to your lower abdomen. Your vision was blurry, but you couldn’t mistake the prominent bulge in your lower abdomen which disappeared and reappeared with every thrust the halovian delivered to your abused cunt.

You let out a breathy cry and let go of her hand to grasp onto her back, fingers digging into your lover’s soft, pale skin. Robin let out a low moan, thrusting her cock deep into you once again. She proceeded to grind her hips against yours once she was skin to skin with you, as if she was desperate to earn more of your near pornographic moans. She continued to grind her hips against yours, the edge of the strap rubbing against her own clit rhythmically with yours.

Your mind went blank as she slammed inside you, walls clenching around her strap like a vice as you squirted all over her cock and moaned loudly. The sight of your cum made Robin’s breath catch in her throat. She ground her hips against yours to help you ride out your orgasm before she herself came as well, her juices trailing down her thighs like a fucking waterfall. She sighed as both of your chests heaved up and down upon recovering from your climax, before pulling the strap out completely.

Robin cuddled up to you after removing the strap and setting it down on the bedside table. Her arms circled around your waist before resting her chin against your shoulder and peppering soft kisses along your neck and shoulder, causing you to giggle. Both of you were drenched in sweat, making your bodies stick together. It was kind of sweet in a way.

“I’m spent..” you murmured, voice still hoarse from all the screaming you did earlier. Robin only nodded in response, eyes fluttering shut as she pulled you against her. She leaned up to kiss your cheek, before holding you in her arms once again.

“Get some rest, my songbird.”

A/N: I FORGOT TO PUT A TITLE SO I SEARCHED FOR A RANDOM ASS WORD IN THE FIC IT WASNT THOUGHT OUT HELP-

@skinblanket

[fictionalsweethearts]

CONVENIENTLY CLOSE | VI X READER | ARCANE

Synopsis: Seven years have not passed in vain, and the woman in front of you seems to be Vi's sign, but hardened by prison, stronger, taller, eager to live the lost years. And to see you again. Faced with old habits and the need for a place to lay low, Vi takes refuge in your apartment and stays conveniently close, maybe too close.

Contains: arcane!vi, feminine reader, lesbians, lots of arguments and dialogues, nsfw, explicit stuff, arcane universe, childhood friends, romance why not?, SESBIAN LEX

Word count: 6,780

Note: This fic was born from this bot which gave me juicy material to use here, part of the story arises from it, all credits to the creator!

Also, english is not my first language, so I apologize in advance for any mistake in my writing. Enjoy!

It happened in the blink of an eye, the fleeting eye contact, a chill running down your spine as you stopped to look again at who you thought was dead or gone. You paled like a ghost, barely taking a step before her arms were around you, and you let out a gasp.

You barely recognized the woman whose face buried in your neck; the toned arms, the network of tattoos on her arms, the gear on the side of her neck, the pronounced hairstyle and the piercings moved this Vi away from the one you once knew, seven years did not pass in vain and both had changed a lot, but the memories still endured. You wrapped her with doubtful arms, insecure but at the same time overwhelmed by the situation.

Your mind was flooded with memories the moment you dared to inhale the essence of her neck, that sweet aroma hidden behind the sweat and leather of her jacket, the same smell that crept into your nostrils on those afternoons on the couch, practicing boxing together, hiding in the alleys to avoid the poor victims of your pranks full of enthusiasm and malice. Of that last hug that morning, before the paths separated, life changed, Vander died and Zaun sank into chaos commanded by organized crime. Everything had changed but that hug brought you back to sweet adolescence for a few seconds, before you pulled away.

"For God's sake, you're... muscular." you murmured then, looking at the taller woman with attentive eyes.

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Vi's hands start to roam, finding their way over your shoulders. A smile appeared on her lips, the same thought kept repeating in her mind 'it's her, it's her'.

"It's an statement."

You could barely form a question in the face of such a situation, your childhood friend returning from a seven-year disappearance to stand before you in all her glory, alive, healthy, certainly different but still her nonetheless. At your sudden silence, Vi giggled, patting your shoulder gently. "Long story. don't wanna talk about it just yet."

You nodded, studying the Vi who was once four inches shorter and scar-free, realizing that wherever she was, circumstances had hardened her. “You were in prison,” you said then, not as a question.

“Surprise, surprise,” Vi muttered sarcastically. “I wasn’t dead. And i'll spare you the gritty details, cause I didn't exactly break out. I served my sentence, somehow."

She'd always had a habit of being vague, even during your childhood years. She never answered your questions directly, and she never explained herself when she got into trouble. It frustrated you back then, and it's no different now. "Enough about me. you're gonna have to fill me in. it's been like, what? Seven years?"

"Wait, I-" you had to shake your head and take a breath, cause suddenly having Vi before you wasn't among your plans. You were still at the alley. "Can we... go somewhere else? Grab a drink, talk this out?"

For a moment, she looks like she might refuse. For a moment, you wonder if she'll duck away, the way she always did. But then Vi sighs softly and nods.

"Lead the way, then." she takes a step back, folding her arms behind her neck. "I'm not payin', though.”

Gathering your thoughts and whispering a 'what a night' under your breath, you begin to lead Vi through the backstreets of a Zaun she no longer knows, but you do. Jericho served a wonderful octopus stew, and Vi was able to verify it once again after so many years. You sipped your cocktail, watching the hungry girl in front of you devour the plate, the Zaun market maintained its usual flow of customers and workers, a swarm of smells and sizzling of embers, murmurs, knives and pans to the fire filled the place.

"Now. You better start explaining how did you break out jail." you said.

The question doesn't come as a surprise - Vi had been expecting it. She sighs, and her eyes flutter up to yours, trying to find the words, trying to find the right way to say it. "I didn't break out. I served my sentence." she can see your skepticism, your disbelief, and she adds: "I got parole. Good behavior. That kinda bullshit."

"Good behavior. You?" you scoff.

"Yeah yeah, I was a saint, believe it or not. Guess I had a change of heart, people grow and all that."

"And now you're out and hungry." you comment, watching Vi finish the bowl and let out a hint of a burp.

"You gotta admit, the food behind bars is not so good." Vi grins at you again, her eyes flickering to your drink. "And the drinks either, care to share?"

Vi takes the glass, wrapping the fingers of her free hand around the base. She stares at the liquid for a moment, then her gaze drifts to meet yours, she's thinking, a lot. "Seven years... seven years is a lot of goddamn time. Almost don't recognize ya. What've you been doing all this time?"

"Let's see…" you say, your eyes scanning the market as you gather up seven years of your existence and rank them in order of importance. "I have a job, I'm… an interpreter."

"A what?" she asks, raising a brow.

"I translate, dumbass."

"Oh, right right." Vi giggled. "You work for the pilties, do you?"

"Actually, yes. I get many academic texts to translate."

"Ah, a sneaky rat. No wonder you'd take any job," she snickers. "I'd almost feel betrayed if you said you never went back to your old life of stealing and pickpocketing."

"I realized I couldn't lean on crime forever." you shrug. "Languages fits me better."

Catching up had never felt so necessary. Vi had undergone a true metamorphosis in prison, a wild flower torn from its roots and still able to cling to life with minimal water, in hostile, dry, cold soil. Now she was outside, eager to feel the putrid Zaun air against her skin, no matter how foul-smelling it was, to continue a life that hadn’t even begun yet. Yet it was the means that worried you.

"What's your plan?" you asked after a short moment of silence. "Now that you're out."

"Well, I gotta lay low for a while. They ain't gonna be lookin' for me out in the streets, but that don't mean I should be causin' trouble." her lips pull into a small smirk, as her eyes flicker to you. "Maybe I'll start robbin' the rich and givin' the profits to those in need. Or something like that."

"You'll get yourself in prison all over again." you said, rolling your eyes.

"What, you think I need you to lecture me, mother?" Vi's mocking tone couldn't help but annoy you. Again with that blind confidence and smug smile, hasn't changed one bit.

"Where are you staying?" you asked, sipping your drink which suddenly tasted bitter.

"Don't have a place. Can't exactly go back to my old apartment, for obvious reasons." her expression shifts into a smirk, a gleam of an idea passing her eyes. "Why? You offering a place to crash?"

"Huh, figured out so. You don't have a goddamn place to crash and still you intend to start robbing again?"

"It's not robbing, it's just taking something that some rich snob doesn't even need. Besides, I'll manage, alright?"

The conversation wasn’t going in the direction you expected, a sour feeling settling in your stomach as you recognized an old pattern that the years had accentuated in Vi; her stubbornness. It was one thing to be happy for an old friend who had gotten out of prison, but it was quite another to still believe that crime was a way of life and support that. And you were sick of that shit.

"I gotta go." you said, laying a bill on the table. "I have a paper to submit due tomorrow."

Vi's expression changed to as if she had been slapped. “Hey, I thought we were catching up. Where the hell are you going in such a hurry?”

"I'm happy for you, Vi, but I'm not who I used to be anymore. And neither should you be." you say, your tone so sober that Vi thought you were pulling her leg until she saw you get up from your seat and start walking away. Vi scowls and grabs the bill you left on the table, crumpling it up in her hand.

"Damnit."

Zaun had changed. It was no longer the fragile balance between misery and hope, but an overwhelming network of crime, wrapped in the growing business of Shimmer and prostitution and the certain tacit anarchy that ruled its existence. Vi needed a few days to get used to it, to recognize the city that saw her grow up and find a way to make her way through that melodious chaos. Crime had evolved, the presence of enforcers was increasingly scarce, which gave way to more aggressive, more experienced, more ingenious criminals when it came to benefiting from the few assets of the rest. In Zaun there were no rich people, only the owners of manufacturing factories, who pulled the strings and commanded drug trafficking, who could not be counted on more than one hand's fingers. However, Vi was not going to allow herself to feel strange in the city she called home, not before playing her cards and making her way into the market she knew best apart from crime: fights. With raw confidence and the certainty that seven years of training behind closed doors had given her the skills to hold her own in the ring, Vi went to the Pit and signed up for one of the night's matches. The result? A downcast and barely alive opponent, Vi claimed a spot she didn't intend to give up, and a bag full of coins. She felt right at home.

It took her three days to make a small fortune, yet her name was frequently whispered and attracted unwanted attention, putting her in a position where she had to remain low for a few days. She could keep that up long enough to make a living after seven years in confinement, but to do so she needed the hospitality and goodwill of someone in particular; you. You assumed Vi wouldn't incur in invading your precious privacy, but that wasn't the case. Not when, working on one of your latest translations, in the quiet of your apartment just a couple of blocks from the red-light district, you felt the fleeting passing of a shadow in front of the window and your alarms went off.

She had to admit, you'd picked yourself a nice little spot to settle down in. Vi could have sworn you would have moved to Piltover, after hearing about your choice of profession, but here you were, all cozy in a fancy apartment in Zaun. She couldn't be sure it was exactly safe, but you probably had ways to deal with that. A couple hours of lurking around in the shadows, and she found herself outside of your apartment window, looking in. Vi takes a moment to study the view through the window, observing your movements inside. She should probably announce her presence, but she can't help the little thrill that comes from the thought of spooking you. 

Believing herself undetected, Vi stepped into the house while investigating what she thought was your office. A room cradled with an aesthetic chaos of shelves, books and plants, a kitten sleeping by the window, very self-absorbed in his feline dreams to recognize a strange smell in his safe space. But you certainly had better instincts than Pepper.

"Stop there or I'll blow your fucking head." you stated, holding a gun against Vi's head, not even recognizing her in the darkness of the room.

Vi's eyes widen as you suddenly speak, the cold metal of the gun pressing against her skin. She raises both hands in a small surrendering gesture.

"Woah, woah! Easy, doll, it's just me."

You remove the gun from her temple, realizing that it was Vi and not another petty thief. "For god's sake." you grumbled, putting the pistol down and turning the lights on. You were in your pajamas, messy hair and still glasses on from working for hours. "What the hell are you doing by breaking into my place?"

She responds to your question with a dismissive shrug. "I need a place to crash, darling."

"Oh, fuck off." you spat, quickly walking towards the desk to put the gun into the drawer again. Pepper woke up with a hiss, just then realizing a intruder was inside. He bristled. "Why would I? You got yourself in trouble, don't you?"

"Technically not trouble. At least, not yet." she glances down at the hissing ball of fur on the floor, and scowls. "You got a damn cat. Of course you do."

She averts your gaze, shifting awkwardly. "I need a place to crash. at least for the night. My place from... before ain't exactly available to me right now."

You can't help but let out a sarcastic laugh, holding your hands akimbo. "I can't afford to have tenants, you know? Especially not the troublesome ones."

"I ain't a tenant, I'm just asking for a sofa to sleep on for one night. It's not a big deal." insists Vi, her tone softening, just like her eyes. Gosh, no, not that look.

When it comes to Vi, you resistance diminished. It was the years of friendship perhaps, or the fact that this ex-convict with deep eyes and attractive bearing softened something inside you, but to tell her 'no' has been always difficult. Even now.

"Just for tonight?" you asked, as Pepper descended from his pedestal to sniff the boots of this new guest. He didn't liked what he smelled.

"Yeah, just for tonight." she hesitates for a moment, before a small smirk spreads across her face. "Unless you have a queen-size bed that I could fit in instead."

"You'd wish." you grunted.

While you were looking for a blanket for this unplanned guest, Vi studied the room she was in. Apart from the academic chaos that surrounded the desk, the rest of the room was tidy and harmonious. In front of the plum-colored sofa, there was a coffee table, on it a couple of books and a candle, along with what Vi soon recognized as a stash. The candle catches her attention for a moment, and her gaze flicks to the small pipe sitting on the coffee table. Interesting. definitely not the doll I remember.

Behind her, a large shelf stood, next to a series of windows that allowed the moon to sneak in, in addition to Pepper's pedestal, fluffy and scratched. The room was composed of green, purple and orange tones, the string of lights hanging from the ceiling gave it a cozy and calm air.

"Here." you said, handing Vi the blanket.

"Thanks." she mumbles.

"Stay away from my stuff, you hear me? And the booze as well, you drunkie."

A small scoff escaped her lips once you closed the door, and she shifts under the blanket, getting comfortable. She takes a moment, before her gaze drifts over towards Pepper.

"Watcha glaring at, ya little shit." She mutters, the corner of her mouth curving up again.

Vi didn't want to abuse your trust, but she couldn't help but inspect the privacy of your office the next morning. Her desk was really a source of curiosity for her, with that amount of trinkets, sheets, books and notes. The carnivorous plant next to them seemed to be watching her, as if she wanted to bite her finger off if Vi dared to sniff through the drawers. But she was an ex-convict and that was a fucking plant.

Inside the drawers were spread documents and bills, you earned quite well for translation, and many orders came from the science district in Piltover, or failing that, from the shimmer factories in Zaun. You made no distinctions, you just worked. This could not help but annoy Vi a little, working for drug producers was certainly not ethical, but a woman like her had no right to talk about ethics either.

Pepper's hiss took her out of her thoughts, the gray cat looked at her with the disdain and suspicion of a human. As if he knew of her past mistakes, of the fact that she turned to crime from a young age, that she was unable to protect Powder when she needed it most, that as soon as she got out of prison her life seemed to point to repeating the same pattern of crime she had grown up with. But Vi had to be wiser this time, play her cards right, break a cycle she was too accustomed to. She let out a sigh, grabbing her jacket before she left the apartment through the window.

Vi was a silent visitor during the nights, she preferred not to bother you since she knew that her ability to stay on the couch depended on the owner's mood, but you also didn't admit that you were starting to get used to and even wish for the presence of the pink-haired woman at home. First there were brief conversations under the cover of night, then a shared cigarette and an improvised dinner, then it was talking about aspirations and fears. Suddenly Vi felt as close as when you were both fifteen. But mischief no longer appeared as the main act of your interactions, but something else that certainly felt different, an unknown spark that was missing before and that made Vi so pleasant to look at.

Days went by, she came brusied and exhausted from her fights to just crash on the sofa and sleep her pain away. It's been two months with such dynamic and you accepted it.

Vi shifted on the couch, an unusual weight on her stomach saying good morning to her and soon, with sunlight filtering through the curtains, Pepper let out a feline complaint. The cat rested on Vi, naturally comfortable after so many visits from her. Sitting up, Vi studied the room and was surprised to see a lump lying on the desk in front of the couch, you had been up late working again.

“She’s going to work herself to death at this point.” Vi muttered, carefully pushing Pepper off her lap and heading to the desk. Vi knew about the constant commissions that rained down in a never-ending stream of work, but she’d also seen you falling asleep during the day, forgetting to eat, and the dark furrow under your eyes worsening. The woman sighed, gently pushing you off the surface to lift you up with ease, carrying you to your room. You mumbled something along the way, ineligible but akin to a complaint that did nothing but amuse Vi.

As your back hit the soft surface of the bed, your hands sought out Vi’s, pulling her along with you. The woman was initially taken aback by this sudden display of affection, you weren’t one to hug or seek contact, but you looked sick and tired and she couldn’t say no to a person in that condition. She snuggled up to you, running a calloused but gentle hand up your arm, burying her fingers in the strands of your hair. "You really ain't taking care of yourself, cupcake." mumbles Vi, cupping your cheek as her thumb gently stroked your nose.

And at the sight of you, your haggard face against the mattress, the sun streaming through the window and outlining your huddled figure, Vi found a new purpose, someone to protect. And as soon as you fell asleep, she got up, put on her jacket and headed to the only place she knew for sure would allow her to make some quick money.

“Black?” you asked, only a month later, holding the small bottle of black dye as Vi wet her hair in the sink. If Vi understood anything about street fighting, it was that a character was the best way to get the public’s attention, the attention turning into bets and the bets into money. For several weeks now, Violet had been arriving at the apartment late at night, bruised, exhausted and with a small bag of coins in her pocket. “For you, doll” the woman would murmur, barely taking the time to kick off her boots before landing on the couch and falling asleep. At first you thought it was just another risky business Vi was getting into, but after a couple of weeks you realized that the name “Vi” was whispered among the alleys and the market, and that she carried the title of undefeated for more than five matches in a row. She was a champion, no doubt about it, and the beneifts from her profession meant more support for household expenses. Suddenly Vi had become your partner, and all she asked in return was a good talk and for you to heal her wounds. And certainly you would do so.

A smirk crept over her lips at the sight of the bottle resting in your hands. "Yeah, black. I'm sick of standin' out. The pink's too bright." her eyes flick to you again, a mischievous look in them. "You're gonna help me out, right? I don't wanna make a mess of myself while trying to do it alone."

You looked at the little bottle of dye and then at Vi, knowing that once she gets an idea inside her head, nothing can erase it unless she tries it. You sighed. "Sit down," you said at last, reaching for the plastic gloves and the cup in the cabinet.

It took you a good hour, but together, you both managed to dye her long pink hair a dark, natural black. Vi's face had hardened, her scars and freckles seeming to stand out against her dark hair. It was then that, in the face of a silence that spoke volumes, Vi was the one to dare to say the first word. "Gotta say, doll. You did a good job."

"You look like you fell into a pool of oil." you said, clearly disapproving of the new look. Even Pepper, who stepped into the bathroom, hissed at Vi.

"Ah, so even the goddamn cat's against me now, eh?" she asked, making you let out a chuckle. The dye wasn't the only thing that changed Vi's appearance, she left the striped pants and red jacket at home, getting herself tight jeans, ripped at the knees, leather boots, a jacket of the same material, provided with gold studs and the print of a two-headed wolf on the back and covering her bust, bandages wrapped tightly. She looked almost unrecognizable, intimidating. Watching her grab her bag and head for the door that night, you couldn't help but feel anxious and think of the worst case scenarios.

You let out a sharp sigh and spoke up. "Vi, wait. You don't have to keep doing this, y'know? Fighting. I'm sure we can find another way."

Vi frowns at your words, her grip on the doorknob tightening.

"Nah, don't start with that." Her eyes narrow slightly, a touch of defensiveness in her voice. "I've always fought, y'know? it's what I'm good at. I don't know anything else."

"I don't want you to get hurt." you insisted, stepping closer.

"I know how to take care of myself, dollface. I'm not some weak little kid anymore." her voice is a little gruff as she tries to deflect the concern.

"You've never been weak..." you mutter, your expression softening as Vi hovered closer. "But you're not invincible neither."

"Yeah, well, who is invincible?" she takes a step closer, closing the distance between you. her eyes dart across your face, searching for something. "You worry about me too much, cupcake."

"You'd like me to not give a shit about you?" you inquire, looking into Vi's eyes.

she scoffed. "Yeah, i'd like to see you try." her eyes flicker across your face again as her thumb briefly brushes over your chin. A moment of silence passes between you, the room feeling almost charged as the two of you stare at each other intently.

Her proximity was electrifying, the smell of hair dye and grease filling your nostrils, her firm yet gentle hand on your chin preventing you from looking away, your field of vision dominated by her, by her light blue eyes, her scar on her upper lip and eyebrow, her straight eyebrows, her messy makeup, her dark lips. "I couldn't stop worrying, Vi. Even if I tried to." you whisper at last.

"Yeah, probably." she mutters, her voice a hoarse whisper. You let out a gasp as Vi leaned in to kiss you, a simple, almost shy kiss, but capable of wreaking such havoc on your insides that your heart began to pound.

She captures your mouth in a gentle kiss, her lips moving against yours slowly, almost tentatively, as if she was testing the waters. When you gasp in response, she deepens the kiss, her hand on your face moving to cradle the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair. Her other hand moves to rest on your hip, pulling you a little closer as you feel your skin burning with an unexpected thrill. But you find yourself pulling back, a hand against Vi's chest.

"No." you whisper, exasparated, overwhelmed, as Vi's breath brushes your lips.

"No?" she repeats, her voice cracking slightly. Her hand remains tangled in your hair, the other still lingering on your hip, its grip having tightened. "You don't want me to keep going?"

"We shouldn't..." you weakly whisper. It wasn't just the kiss, it was about kissing a woman, and that woman being your lifelong friend. How much were you risking by crossing that line and delving into the taste of her lips and the firmness of her hands? God, you could barely explain it to yourself.

She pauses at your words, her grip on your hip loosening as she processes the conflicted look in your eyes. Her gaze drifts across your face, taking in every detail, as if trying to read your thoughts.

"Y'know..." a brief silence stretches between you, the only sound being the faint hum of the city outside the window. "We can stop... if you want."

Her hand slowly falls from your hip, and she takes a measured breath as she steps back, putting a short distance between the two of you.

You feel her slip away from you, backing away as a look of disappointment settles on her face and the glow of desire fades. You swallow. "I've never kissed a girl." you suddenly confess.

She runs a hand through her dark hair, visibly processing this new information. There's a moment of tense silence before she speaks again, letting out a huff. "I figured out so."

Your eyes widened, watching Vi taking a step back towards the door. "I should get going, there's a match I have to win." she says, leaving the apartment, leaving you confused, almost upset.

During Vi's absence, you couldn't find anything to distract you. As soon as you sat down for a moment to rest after feeding Pepper, tidying the living room, doing the laundry, heating up dinner or taking a shower, the touch of her lips flooded your senses and produced an almost unknown tingle in your belly. The smell of her skin, the gentleness with which her hand settled on your hip and pulled you against her. You couldn't stop replaying the scene, with some uncertainty if you were allowed to think that way about a childhood friend, or a woman. You only found some peace once you fell asleep that night, in the wee hours of the morning you felt an extra weight on the bed with you, an arm around your waist and an "I'm home, cupcake."

The next morning, you found the space next to you empty. You assumed Vi had fallen asleep on the couch, but her boots beside the bed and her jacket on your dresser said otherwise. You got up, hearing Pepper meowing in hunger from the kitchen. You barely noticed the overflowing bag of money on the coffee table or the sound of the shower running, only sleepwalking into the kitchen to feed the hungry cat. With the animal crouched before its bowl, you poured yourself a glass of water and only then turned back to the coffee table. “I told you I had a fight to win,” Vi said from behind you, watching you count the coins and bills in shock. The woman stood by the door, her hair still damp and a not-so-disguisable cut across the bridge of her nose, eyebrow, and cheek. “This is a bunch of money.” you muttered, studying the woman before you.

"Bets paid good last night." she nonchalantly replied, coming closer as she ignored the money. You were the center of her attention then, you and your robe. "I want you to take a break, alright? From your job."

"A break?" you asked, Vi's sincere smile speaking volumes.

"Yeah, for a while." she reached out to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, her touch surprisingly gentle. "You work too much."

Your expression softened, noticing the sweet gentleness which Vi treated you, how tender her eyes were at that moment. You couldn't help but lean against her touch. "About last night..."

Her hand cups your chin, her thumb gently grazing over your bottom lip. "You don't regret it, do you?" her voice is hoarse and low. Beneath her confident façade, there’s a hint of vulnerability in her eyes, a subtle fear that you’ll reject her.

"No." despite the inner turmoil, you couldn't regret it, not when you wanted more.

Relief flickers across her face, and that cocky smirk returns to her lips. "Good." her hand cups the side of your face, fingers lightly brushing across your skin, and she leans in to whisper against your lips. "Cause I’m gonna kiss you again."

This time it wasn't a fearful kiss, but deep and ambitious from the first moment, Vi pulling you against her and wrapping her lips around yours with a soft moan that only served to ignite a timid flame of desire that now sought to become a fire. You closed your eyes and dared to hold her cheek, testing a terrain unknown to you but dominated by her. She wanted to be gentle with you, to ease you into this new terrain, but her desire for you overpowered her self-restraint and the kiss quickly turned hungry and greedy.

"Please, just..." she whispered against your lips, a hand sneaking underneath your robe to grasp your waist. "Let's sit down."

Vi landed on the couch, pulling you closer until you were straddling her, taking possession of the back of your neck to pull you into another kiss. You moaned against her lips, savoring every sensation as if it were a dish you’d never tried before but surprisingly tasted delightful and addictive. Vi smelled like shampoo, her lips were soft and her hands were calloused but gentle. One of them ran down your spine over your robe, and you stepped back to quickly remove it.

She kissed your neck, running gentle palms up the expanse of your neck and chest, shyly cupping one of your breasts before you pulled away to look at her. She understood the approval in your eyes, bringing her hands behind your thighs to hoist your hips so your chest faced her. You let out a sigh at the wetness of her mouth enveloping your nipple, a gentle, tentative suck that made you clench in a new way. “Fuck…” you moaned, at the same time as their hands massaged your buttocks and dared to slap them.

"I was waiting for you to start swearing." she whispered against your tits, one of her hands running along your spine before you felt the urge for more.

Your ass landed again, this time Vi’s knee between your legs as she kissed you again. You wanted more, you wanted to know what else could be offered by a woman whose experiences had hardened her character but were unable to sour her kisses and moans. Vi still had so much love to offer, and you knew she loved you, every action, every look said it. The way she made you breakfast while you dealt with endless loads of work at your desk said it, her banal conversations that sought to lift your spirits said it, her hands holding you as if you were physically a necessity said it, the bags of money resting on the table said it, and her bruises from brutal fights where her main motivation was you, said it. Vi always loved you, but it was only a matter of time before you realized it was a romantic affection, not a friendly one.

You were exasperated, your hips rocking as Vi pressed her knee into your core, a delicious friction that produced a pleasant, addictive tingle, your wetness speaking for itself. Vi gripped your waist tightly, setting the pace, watching you with attentive eyes and parted lips. You found yourself moaning against her lips, kissing her in fits and starts before you had to pull back for more. "You're so pretty." she whispered.

You leaned in for another kiss, before your hands went down to pull Vi's top off. The contrast was clear, Vi standing out for her muscles and roughness, the network of tattoos on her arms and back capturing your attention for a moment before you ran a hand over her chest. Discreet glances spoke, and the moans that indicated something was going (very) right. Vi patted your thigh before you withdrew from her lap, sliding your panties down gently as she placed a trail of kisses from your hip to your knee.

You felt self-conscious, Vi’s gaze seemed to take in every last detail of your body, from the bones of your hips, to your navel, to the pubic hair that covered your crotch. But your insecurity had no place in the eyes of a woman who simply wanted you for being you. “Don’t give me that look, you’re gorgeous.” She smiled, her hand settling between your legs as she probed your wetness. “Shh… just checking.” She whispered, her thumb gently circling your clit. “Does that feel good?”

"Yes..." you moaned, the suggestive wet noises making you shiver. "Really good." you spread your legs wider, giving Vi the consent to continue further.

You lifted one knee onto the couch as a finger gently entered and curled towards the nearest wall of your insides, giving you a sweet tickle. Vi studied your expressions, the way your breathing quickened and your hands rested on her shoulders for support.

"You're so soft..." she murmured, her own breathing labored as she continued to watch your expressions closely, seeking any sign of discomfort. "Tell me if it hurts." her free hand lightly stroked your thigh, a gesture of reassurance while she checked on you constantly, realizing your reaction came from sole pleasure and not pain at all. Soon enough she eased a second finger and a sigh escaped her lips as she felt you clenching around her.

"That's it..." she muttered against your mouth as she leaned in to kiss you, her fingers slowly working in and out of you. Her touch was gentle but firm, as if she was being careful not to hurt you.

Your knees threatened to buckle, the constant motion inside you awakened nerve endings you thought were inert, Vi’s ears searching to pick up your every grunt and moan. Her breathing quickened, before she let out a hiss and pulled her fingers away. A quiet whine escaped your lips and she took a moment to catch her breath. "Sorry... just a sec..."

Vi stood up from the couch, cupping the back of your neck to give you another kiss before gently motioning for you to lie down. "Lay back for me, cupcake." she whispered, finding a way between your legs as she trailed a way of kisses from your chest to your groin. There was a certain urgency to Vi's movements, a desire that made her breathing quicken and her fingers squeeze the flesh of your thighs as she parted them, skipping the main course in favor of running her tongue along the inside of your thighs, placing brief kisses and bites that allowed the blood to flow to your core, awakening your muscles, making you desperate for relief.

"Please."

"Shh, I've got you." she whispered against your skin, her voice a low and sultry rumble, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your inner thighs. "Patience."

You leaned your head back, eyes closing at the wet feel of her tongue as it ran up and down your core. She kept one hand firmly on your hip, the other on your thigh as she kept it apart. You moaned, looking down into a pair of lustful, delighted eyes, her mouth covering your folds, sucking and alternating with the tip of her tongue. Watching you, studying your pleasure, relishing on your sweet whimpers. “Fuck.” You moaned, your hips bucking slightly in search of more contact.

Vi's tongue worked you slowly and deliberately, mapping every inch of your core with a mixture of delicacy and desire. She released your hip and brought her hand up to your chest, her fingers finding your nipple and giving it a firm pinch. "That's it, just feel it..."

Her hand kneaded your breast as her tongue circled your clit, unashamed to make wet, suggestive sounds, to moan against your folds and to stop and look at you from time to time. She smiled, you looked splendid, needy but at the same time pleased, your cheeks slightly rosy, your lips parted, letting out moans and light gasps.

"Breathe, cupcake. I wouldn't want you to hyperventilate," she said mischievously, sticking her tongue out to deliver a long lick along the length of your core.

"Easy for you to say..." you panted, trying to catch your breath. Your mind was spinning, your body aching and desperate. But Vi had something else in mind, a way to drive you to the edge.

“Take a breath.” she whispered, pulling her mouth from between your legs to settle on her knees. “Look at me.” Vi caressed your thighs and moistened her ring and middle fingers with her mouth as you forced yourself to inhale and not exhale gasps of anticipation. Suddenly you felt her hand cup your chin, pulling you in for a kiss. You rested on your forearms behind your back as she inserted both of your fingers, twisting them in a specific motion that managed to draw a muffled whimper from you. It was sparkling, sweet, precise, and in the perfect spot. "Goddamn..." you whined.

"I know." Vi chuckled, kissing you again as the throes of an orgasm built in your lower belly and made your legs tense. "I know, pretty."

You reached a point where your thoughts were cut off, each and every one of them about Vi, her lips against yours, her fingers inside, curling and keeping a steady rhythm that did nothing but lead you down the right path to orgasm. You moaned into her mouth, pulling away to breathe once an electric wave shook every fiber of your body and your legs locked in an involuntary spasm. Vi rested her forehead against your chest, placing soft kisses as your arms cradled her head, yearning to be close to the person who was able to make you come so hard. Vi smiled, studying the way the pleasure settled into your muscles and your arms slackened.

"Good, babe, good..." she whispered, taking a look of your teary eyes before you pulled her to kiss her deeply.

You stared at the ceiling, the sun streaming through the window as your hands ran through Vi’s thick hair. You missed the pink, the dull black hardened her face too much. The boxer sighed, also processing the fact that she had just had sex with you and it had been wonderful from start to finish. This peace was new, it wasn’t temporary or fragile, it was latent, substantial, tangible. It was as if Vi had spent twenty-three years of her life searching for the calm that only lying on your chest gave her, and she couldn’t help but feel genuinely happy and satisfied. This is what life is about, not just surviving, but breaking down defenses and forgetting for a moment about being the strong one. You kissed her crown, Pepper climbed on the sofa and curled up between your feet and Vi's, purring calmly, like a lullaby.

"Looks like Pepper has finally accepted you." you whispered, making Vi lift her face.

"It was damn time. Just like her mom, stubborn as hell." she agreed, looking at the cat briefly before she nuzzled against your chest again. "He better get used to it, cause I ain't leaving your side anytime soon."

[moonselune]

Inbox is open, you say? Here's an idea based on something that just happened during my current run: how would the companions react to a Tav who failed the save to reject the Astral-Touched Tadpole and is distraught at how her body's been changed against her will, and scared that she's going to lose her sense of self and become something monstrous? When this happened to me, most of the companions had little if anything to say about it, but Lae'zel and Halsin acted like I'd eaten it willingly and were really mean to me about it. :(

They are so mean ! And for what ! I'm tryna save your asses !

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Karlach’s heart broke the moment she saw you, trembling and wide-eyed, after the confrontation with the Astral-Touched Tadpole. The look in your eyes—a mix of shock, fear, and deep sorrow—was something that pierced her in a way that no blade or battle ever could.

You had tried everything to resist the tadpole’s corrupting influence, but it had finally sunk its claws into you, altering your body in ways you never asked for. You feared what came next: a loss of control, the destruction of your mind, and eventually becoming something unrecognizable, something monstrous.

Your body, once so familiar, now felt foreign. The changes weren't just visible; they pulled at your very essence, like you were slowly unraveling from the inside out. In that moment, it felt like everything was slipping away.

And Karlach… Karlach had been there through thick and thin, always smiling, always strong. But when she saw you like this, her heart ached in ways she hadn’t expected. This wasn’t a battle she could fight for you, and that helplessness gnawed at her. Still, she knew exactly what to do.

She crossed the camp swiftly, her warm, comforting presence surrounding you before she even spoke.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” she murmured, sitting beside you and wrapping her arms around your shaking form. Her voice, usually loud and boisterous, softened to a tone meant only for you. “You’re safe. You’re still here with me.”

You clung to her, burying your face in her chest. Her heartbeat was strong and steady, the one thing that felt real when everything else seemed to be slipping away. But despite her comfort, the fear in you hadn’t faded.

“I-I couldn’t stop it, Karlach,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you looked up at her. “I… I tried everything. It’s… it’s changing me. I can feel it. What if I lose myself? What if I—" Your voice cracked, and you looked down at your hands, which had started to take on a faint, otherworldly sheen. “What if I become a monster?”

Karlach’s breath hitched in her throat. She could feel your fear like a palpable thing, pressing in on both of you. But she wouldn’t let it take you. Not while she was still here. She cupped your face in her hands, bringing your gaze to meet hers, her eyes filled with fierce determination.

“You listen to me,” she said firmly, but with tenderness, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “You are not a monster. Not now, not ever. Do you hear me? No matter what this tadpole does, it doesn’t get to take away who you are.”

You blinked at her, overwhelmed by the conviction in her voice. The tears kept coming, but her words grounded you.

“But I feel… different,” you admitted quietly, almost ashamed. “What if I start thinking differently? What if I—” Your voice trailed off, too scared to finish the sentence.

Karlach shook her head, pulling you closer, her calloused hand rubbing gentle circles on your back. “Then I’ll be right there to remind you who you are. You think I’m going to let you go down without a fight? Hell no. I know you, better than anyone. You’re stubborn, and you’ve got a good heart—a heart I fell in love with. No tadpole can change that.”

She smiled softly at you, her touch radiating warmth as she brushed your hair back from your face. “And even if you start to feel lost, even if things get scary, you’re not doing this alone, alright? We’ll face it together. Whatever this tadpole does, it has to get through me first.”

The way she said it—so fiercely protective, so determined—made something inside you soften. You leaned into her, resting your head against her chest, letting her hold you as if nothing in the world could ever hurt you again.

“But what if I can’t… stop it?” you whispered after a moment. “What if I can’t fight it forever?”

Karlach’s arms tightened around you. “Then we’ll fight it together. You’ll have me by your side, every step of the way. And if things get hard, if you feel like you’re losing yourself, I’ll be there to pull you back. Every time.” She kissed the top of your head, her voice low and sincere. “You’re not losing yourself, love. Not while I’m here.”

You could hear the pain in her voice—the fear of losing you, of not being able to save you from this. But even more than that, you heard her resolve. She wasn’t going to let this thing win. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, you felt a small flicker of hope.

“I love you, you know that?” you murmured, your voice quiet but sincere. It was all you could say in that moment—your way of thanking her for holding you together when you felt like you were falling apart.

Karlach’s chest shook with a quiet laugh, though you could hear the emotion behind it.

“I love you too, more than you know,” she replied, kissing your forehead once more. “We’re going to get through this. I promise.”

You nodded against her, letting her warmth and her unwavering strength comfort you. You knew the fight wasn’t over—far from it. But with Karlach by your side, you felt like maybe, just maybe, you could keep hold of yourself. And as she held you in front of the fire, her presence chased away the darkness that threatened to engulf you.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

You had locked yourself in your tent for days now, hiding from the world, and hiding from yourself. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had taken root in your mind, warping your body in ways that terrified you. It wasn’t just the physical changes—the strange, shimmering glow to your skin, the unnatural sharpness to your senses—it was the fear of what was happening inside. You could feel it tugging at your mind, whispering, and each day you felt like you were slipping further and further away from who you once were.

Fear clung to you like a second skin, suffocating, and no amount of logic or reasoning could break through the walls you had built around yourself. You refused to leave your tent, convinced that if you did, you would be stepping out as something monstrous, something no one—not even her—could bear to look at.

But Minthara wasn’t the type to wait around. You had learned that early on. Patience wasn’t a virtue she often entertained, especially when it came to things she cared about.

The tent flap was yanked open with force, the dim light of the camp spilling inside and casting long shadows across the floor. Before you could protest, Minthara stepped inside, her presence filling the small space as she glared down at you with a fierce intensity.

“Enough of this,” she snapped, her voice low and commanding. “You will not hide away like some coward over something as insignificant as this.”

Your heart leaped into your throat at her words. “Insignificant?” you choked out, your voice raw from disuse. “Minthara, look at me!” You gestured to yourself, your hands trembling as you did. “It’s changing me. My body, my mind… I don’t even recognize myself anymore. I can feel it inside me, twisting everything. I’m scared I’m going to lose control—lose myself—and turn into something… something horrible.”

Tears welled up in your eyes despite your best efforts to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to cry in front of her—not Minthara, who was always so strong, so composed. But you couldn’t help it. The fear was too overwhelming.

For a moment, Minthara said nothing. She just stood there, looking down at you, her sharp eyes narrowing as she took in your disheveled form. Then, with a huff of impatience, she knelt in front of you, grabbing your chin with firm but not painful force and forcing you to look at her.

“Listen to me,” she said, her voice low but fierce. “You are not some fragile creature who will be undone by this. You are strong, stronger than most could ever hope to be. I have seen you in battle, seen you face down horrors that would make others cower. You think a tadpole—a mere parasite—is enough to destroy you?”

You opened your mouth to argue, to tell her that this was different, that this wasn’t something you could fight with sword or spell. But before you could speak, she continued, her voice taking on a softer, more dangerous edge.

“You are ethereal,” she said, her fingers brushing against your cheek in a surprisingly tender gesture. “Beautiful. Perfect. This tadpole may have changed you, but it has not taken away the essence of who you are. You are still mine.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and despite the fear still gnawing at your insides, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of warmth at her touch, at the possessiveness in her tone. Minthara was never one for sentiment, but when she spoke like this, you knew she meant every word.

“And if anything,” she added, a sly smile curling at the corners of her lips, “I should be the one sulking. I had hoped to claim the Astral-Touched Tadpole for myself. But now, you’ve gone and taken it from me.”

She said it so casually, so matter-of-factly, that for a moment, you were stunned into silence. Then, as the absurdity of her words hit you, a laugh—small and hesitant—bubbled up from your chest. Minthara raised an eyebrow at you, her smile growing wider.

“There,” she said, releasing your chin and standing up. “That’s better. I would hate to think my lover had lost her sense of humor along with her sense of self.”

You wiped at your eyes, still feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you, but it was lighter now, less suffocating.

“You’re… really not upset about this?” you asked, your voice quiet but hopeful. Minthara sighed dramatically, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Upset? No. Mildly irritated that I wasn’t the one to receive the tadpole’s gifts? Perhaps.” She glanced down at you, her expression softening ever so slightly. “But I am not upset with you. You are still the person I chose, the person I… care for. And that will not change, no matter what happens.”

Her words, though delivered with her usual edge, sent a wave of relief washing over you. You hadn’t even realized how much you had been fearing her rejection, her disgust, until this moment. But here she was, standing before you, fierce and unwavering as ever, ready to stand by your side.

“Now,” she said, reaching down and pulling you to your feet with surprising gentleness, “you will stop this nonsense and come out of this tent. There are battles to be fought, plans to be made, and you will not do either from in here.”

You hesitated for a moment, still feeling the lingering fear, but Minthara’s steady presence bolstered you. She wasn’t going to let you fall, not like this.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

The campfire crackled softly as the evening air settled around you, a chill that you barely noticed compared to the storm of emotions raging inside. You sat a little ways from the others, staring blankly at your hands—the faint glow of the Astral-Touched Tadpole marking your skin, a constant reminder of your failure. No matter how hard you had fought, how desperately you had tried to resist, it hadn’t been enough. The tadpole had taken root, and now your body had begun to change against your will.

Your fingers trembled as you traced the strange, glowing veins that marked your skin. It felt wrong. You felt wrong. There was something unnatural about it, something that made you fear that this was only the beginning. What if the changes continued? What if you lost yourself entirely, became some mindless thrall, or worse—a monster?

You tried to push the thoughts away, but they kept coming, each more terrifying than the last. The fear settled like a weight in your chest, heavy and suffocating. And then there was her—Lae'zel. The words she had yelled at you echoed in your mind, sharp and cutting.

"You failed! You should have been stronger!" she had spat earlier, frustration and anger evident in her eyes.

She hadn’t meant it, not really, but it had stung. You had wanted to be strong. You had tried. But it wasn’t enough. Now, with the glowing marks on your body, you wondered if she would even want to stay with you. Lae’zel was fierce, a warrior of unwavering conviction. How could she look at you the same, knowing you had succumbed to the very thing she feared?

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t hear her approach at first, the sound of her boots crunching on the dirt drowned out by your racing mind. It wasn’t until she stood right beside you that you glanced up, startled.

“Lae'zel…” you murmured, your voice raw with emotion.

Her expression was unreadable, her sharp gaze fixed on you. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you palpable. Then, to your surprise, Lae'zel crouched down beside you, her eyes scanning your face before they fell to the glowing marks on your skin.

“I…” Lae’zel hesitated, something unfamiliar in her tone—something softer than you were used to. “I was wrong.”

You blinked, the words not quite registering at first. Lae’zel, so strong, so sure of herself, admitting she was wrong? It was almost impossible to believe.

She continued, her voice low and almost hesitant. “I lashed out at you earlier. I should not have. It was not your failure alone. It was mine as well. I should have fought harder for you—for us. I should have been by your side.”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you quickly looked away, not wanting her to see. The raw vulnerability in her voice only made the emotions you were trying to suppress come rushing to the surface.

“I tried, Lae’zel,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I tried so hard… but it wasn’t enough. Now, I don’t know what’s happening to me. I’m scared.”

Lae’zel’s eyes softened as she reached out, her hand hovering above yours for a moment before she gently took it in her own. Her grip was firm but careful, like she was afraid you might break.

“I know,” she said softly, surprising you once more with the gentleness of her tone. “And I am sorry. I should not have shouted. I let my fear and my anger control me. I feared losing you, and I lashed out.”

Her thumb stroked over the back of your hand, her touch grounding you in the moment. You could feel the warmth of her hand, the strength behind it, and it was enough to calm some of the panic swirling in your chest.

“I do not care what changes have taken place,” Lae’zel continued, her voice steady now. “You are still you. You are still the warrior I fell in love with. That will not change.”

“But what if I change?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “What if I become something… something terrible? What if I lose myself?”

Lae’zel frowned, her brows furrowing as she considered your words. For a moment, you thought she might brush off your fears, tell you to be stronger, but instead, she surprised you yet again.

“If that happens,” she said slowly, “I will be here. I will stand by your side, no matter what. I will fight for you, just as I always have.”

You looked up at her, tears brimming in your eyes. “Even if I… even if I become something monstrous?”

Lae’zel’s grip on your hand tightened. “Even then,” she said firmly. “I will not abandon you. You are mine, and I do not abandon what is mine.”

Her words sent a wave of warmth through you, and for the first time since the changes had started, you felt a small flicker of hope. Lae’zel was many things—fierce, headstrong, relentless—but she was also loyal. And in that moment, you knew that no matter what happened, she would not let you face it alone. You let out a shaky breath, the weight in your chest lifting just a little.

“I’m sorry too,” you whispered. “I should have been stronger. I should have fought harder.”

Lae’zel shook her head. “There is no shame in what has happened,” she said firmly. “We cannot control everything. But we can fight. And we will fight this, together.”

For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, your hand still held tightly in hers. Then, Lae’zel gently pulled you closer, wrapping her arms around you in a rare display of tenderness. You buried your face in her shoulder, letting the tears you had been holding back finally fall.

“I will not let you go,” Lae’zel whispered, her voice fierce and full of conviction. “No matter what happens, I will not let you go.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared at your reflection in the small, cracked mirror. Your skin had begun to shimmer unnaturally, an eerie, faint glow—just the beginning of what the Astral-Touched Tadpole had done to you. The mental changes were subtle at first, an unsettling awareness in the back of your mind, and a creeping, hollow feeling that you weren’t entirely yourself anymore.

Your hands trembled as you touched your face, fingers ghosting over the surface of your skin, trying to find something familiar beneath the changes. But it was hard to recognize yourself. It was like looking at a stranger. You felt alien, disconnected, like something deep within was slipping away, and you were powerless to stop it. You had failed to stop the tadpole from sinking its claws into your mind, your body.

That’s when Shadowheart found you. She had been looking for you in the camp, worried after the most recent battle had left you drained and withdrawn. The flap of the tent opened quietly, and her soft footsteps made their way toward you, but you couldn’t look at her. You couldn’t bear to see the concern in her eyes, the worry that you might be slipping away from her.

Her voice was gentle, yet full of that quiet strength you’d always admired in her.

“Hey… there you are. I’ve been looking for you.” She paused, noticing the way you were hunched over, staring at the mirror like it held all the answers to what was happening to you. “What’s wrong?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold it together, but your body betrayed you, a shudder running through you as you finally whispered, “It’s changing me.”

Shadowheart’s brow furrowed, her eyes scanning your reflection before they softened with understanding. She stepped closer, kneeling beside you. Her hand, cool and soothing, gently rested on your arm. “What do you mean?”

You turned to her, your voice shaking as you spoke, “I couldn’t stop it, Shadowheart. The tadpole—it’s changing me, inside and out. I feel… different. I don’t know how to fight this. I’m scared that I’ll lose myself, that I’ll become something—something monstrous.”

Her eyes darkened with emotion as she listened, the concern you had feared now apparent in her gaze. But instead of recoiling or showing the panic you expected, Shadowheart’s expression softened. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she reached out, cradling your face in her hands, her thumb brushing against your cheek as if to ground you, to keep you tethered to her.

“You’re not going to become a monster,” she said softly, her voice steady and firm. “I won’t let that happen. You’re still you, no matter what that damn tadpole tries to do.”

Tears stung your eyes as you shook your head, unable to believe her. “But what if I’m not? What if it gets worse? What if I… lose control? What if I hurt you or the others?”

Shadowheart’s grip on your face tightened just slightly, her determination radiating through every word. “Then I’ll be there to stop it. But I don’t think it’ll come to that. You’ve always been stronger than you realize. I know you’re scared, and I know this is… horrifying. But you’re still in control. You still have a choice.”

Her words felt like a lifeline, something to hold on to as the panic and despair threatened to overwhelm you. You leaned into her touch, eyes searching hers for some glimmer of hope.

“How can you be so sure?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Shadowheart smiled softly, a hint of sadness in her eyes but also fierce conviction. “Because I know you. I’ve seen you fight—against impossible odds, against your own fears. And you’ve won every time. You’re not going to let this tadpole define you. You’re stronger than it.”

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak, but her words eased some of the tension in your chest. You wanted to believe her so badly, but the changes… the changes felt like they were happening faster than you could adapt to them. And you were terrified of waking up one day and not recognizing the person you’d become.

Seeing the turmoil still churning within you, Shadowheart leaned closer, pressing her forehead gently against yours, her breath warm against your skin. “I’m not going to let you go through this alone. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together. I’m not leaving you, no matter what this tadpole tries to do.”

The warmth of her touch, the steadiness in her voice—it was enough to pull you out of your spiral, if only for a moment. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath as the weight of her promise settled over you. She wouldn’t abandon you. She was here, beside you, even in the face of something so terrifying.

You opened your eyes, finding hers filled with a fierce love that took your breath away. “But… what if I’m not me anymore?”

Shadowheart smiled, a gentle, loving smile that melted the fear just a little more.

“You’ll always be you. No matter how much this tadpole tries to twist things, the person I love is still in there.” She brushed her fingers through your hair, tucking a strand behind your ear before whispering, “And I’m going to remind you of that every day if I have to.”

You felt a tear slip down your cheek, but it wasn’t entirely from fear anymore. There was comfort in her words, in her presence. You rested your head against her shoulder, your body finally relaxing, if only slightly, as you let yourself lean into her.

“I don’t want to lose you,” you admitted, your voice small and vulnerable.

Shadowheart’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as she whispered, “You won’t. I’m right here.”

And for the first time since you felt the tadpole’s dark influence clawing at your mind, you believed her. You weren’t alone in this. And with Shadowheart by your side, maybe—just maybe—you could hold on to who you were.

As she held you, her hands gently stroking your back, you closed your eyes and let the warmth of her love, her strength, soothe the fear that had been gripping you for so long. You didn’t know what the future held, but you knew that with her, you wouldn’t face it alone. And that was enough—for now, it was enough.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

You sat alone at the edge of the camp, knees drawn to your chest, staring at the darkening horizon with a hollow feeling in your chest. The weight of the changes coursing through your body was too much to bear. It wasn’t just the physical transformation—the shimmering glow on your skin, the subtle shift in your senses—but the constant nagging feeling that something else was shifting inside you, something more sinister. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had burrowed into you, and you had failed to stop it. You felt its presence like a growing shadow, threatening to consume everything you were.

Jaheira had been keeping an eye on you all evening. She was never one for dramatic displays of affection, but her eyes often lingered on you when she thought you didn’t notice. You loved her for her strength, her pragmatism, but right now, the fear gripping your chest made you feel like a fragile shell of yourself. You were scared that you’d lose the person you were, that the tadpole would twist your mind, your soul, into something monstrous.

You hadn’t said a word to anyone about it, not even her. But Jaheira knew.

She approached you quietly, her footsteps sure but gentle, the kind of presence that didn’t need to make itself known. She settled beside you, her back straight and her hands resting casually on her lap. For a while, she didn’t say anything, simply sitting in the silence of the camp, the crackling of the fire in the background. The quiet companionship was comforting, but it wasn’t enough to ease the storm raging inside you.

After a moment, you spoke, your voice thick with the weight of your fear. “It’s changing me, Jaheira.” You couldn’t meet her eyes, couldn’t bear to see her reaction. “I’m not who I was… I don’t know what I’m becoming.”

Jaheira remained quiet for a beat, her expression unreadable, but you could feel her gaze on you. Finally, she let out a long breath, a mixture of calm and exasperation.

“You are letting this defeat you,” she said plainly, her voice steady but not unkind. You blinked, surprised by the bluntness of her words.

“What?” You turned to face her, finding no trace of pity in her eyes, only the pragmatic strength you had always admired. She wasn’t coddling you.

“I’ve watched you handle impossible situations before this,” Jaheira continued, her tone even. “You’ve faced down terrors that would leave others quaking, and now you sit here, mired in self-pity over something you cannot change.” Her gaze softened just slightly. “Dry your tears.”

Her words cut through your haze of fear, sharp and direct. You looked down, wiping at your face, realizing that tears had indeed begun to fall, though you hadn’t noticed. But the tears weren’t just out of fear—they were out of frustration. Frustration with yourself, with the situation, with the loss of control.

“I don’t know what to do,” you admitted, your voice small, but it held the weight of the turmoil you were feeling.

Jaheira shifted, her hand finding its way to your shoulder, her grip firm and grounding.

“You do what you’ve always done,” she said firmly. “You fight.”

You glanced at her, seeing the steady resolve in her eyes, the kind of resolve that had kept her alive through countless battles and tragedies. Jaheira was someone who never let herself be weighed down by the things she couldn’t change. She had learned to adapt, to find strength in what remained.

“But what if I’m not strong enough this time?” you whispered, the vulnerability in your voice clear. Jaheira tilted her head, a small, wry smile pulling at the corner of her lips.

“You think strength is about not being afraid? That it’s about being invincible?” She shook her head, her hand squeezing your shoulder. “Strength is about pushing forward, even when you’re terrified. It’s about choosing who you are, no matter what the world or… some tadpole,” she said with a slight scoff, “tries to make of you.”

You let out a shaky breath, the weight of her words settling over you. She was right. It wasn’t about the changes or the fear. It was about who you chose to be, even when faced with something as horrific as the tadpole’s corruption. You had always fought for control over your fate, and this was no different. Jaheira leaned back slightly, watching you as you absorbed her words.

“You’re not going to lose yourself,” she said softly, her voice holding a rare tenderness that she reserved for moments like this. “Not while I’m here. Not while we are here.” Her hand moved to your chin, turning your face to meet her eyes. “But you need to stop wallowing in fear and start fighting back.”

Your chest tightened at the raw honesty in her gaze, the way she looked at you like you were still that same person she had fallen in love with, not some twisted creature on the verge of losing themselves. And in that moment, you realized that Jaheira wouldn’t let you fall. Not without a fight.

You managed a small smile, though it was shaky.

“I’m scared,” you admitted, the truth weighing heavy on your chest, but there was a shift in you now, a flicker of the determination that Jaheira had always seen in you.

“I know,” she said softly, her thumb brushing your cheek briefly before she pulled back, her eyes returning to their usual calm. “Fear is natural. But it doesn’t define you.”

You nodded, the knot of fear still there, but loosened by her words. The changes might be out of your control, but you still had a choice in how you faced them. And with Jaheira by your side, grounding you, reminding you of who you were, maybe—just maybe—you wouldn’t lose yourself after all.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. Jaheira gave you a small nod, her lips quirking into a slight smile.

“You don’t need to thank me,” she said, leaning in close enough that her forehead almost touched yours. “Just don’t make me repeat myself.”

Despite everything, you let out a quiet laugh, a tiny spark of hope returning to you. You weren’t alone in this. And with Jaheira’s unflinching pragmatism, her unwavering belief in you—you knew that somehow, you would find a way to face this challenge. Together.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Gale:

The campfire crackled gently, its warm glow a stark contrast to the cold dread sinking in your chest. You sat off to the side, hugging your knees to your chest, feeling the weight of the changes coursing through your body—the changes you hadn’t been able to stop. You ran a hand along your skin, now marked with the faint, shimmering lines of the Astral-Touched Tadpole’s influence.

You could hear the others moving about in the camp, their laughter and conversation, but it felt distant, disconnected from you. You were afraid—afraid that this was only the beginning, that soon you wouldn’t recognize yourself. What if you became something monstrous, a shell of who you once were? The thought twisted in your stomach, gnawing at you.

And then there was Gale.

He had been watching you for some time, his sharp mind always attuned to the subtle shifts in your mood. Gale could sense when you were withdrawn, and tonight, the heaviness in your heart was undeniable. He approached quietly, his steps soft but deliberate, and sat beside you without a word, his shoulder brushing against yours in a gesture of comfort.

You didn’t look at him. The tears that had been threatening to spill over finally did, a few silent drops trailing down your cheeks.

“I couldn’t stop it, Gale,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “It’s changing me. I can feel it. I… I’m scared I’m going to become something else, something awful.”

Gale’s expression softened instantly. Without hesitation, he reached out and gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing away a tear that clung to your cheek.

“You’re not becoming something monstrous,” he said softly, his voice filled with such tenderness it made your chest ache. “You are still you, the person I love, the person who has faced down far worse than this.”

You swallowed hard, trying to fight back the swell of emotion in your throat. “But what if I lose myself? What if I… what if I can’t control it? I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Gale’s brow furrowed slightly as he shook his head. He shifted closer to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest, holding you tightly.

“You could never hurt me,” he whispered, his lips brushing the top of your head. “Not you. Not the person I know. You’re stronger than this, and you’ll fight it. You always fight.”

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed. But the fear lingered, the doubt gnawing at your resolve.

“I don’t feel strong right now,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “I feel like I’m slipping away, bit by bit.”

Gale’s grip on you tightened, his arms encircling you completely as if he could shield you from your own thoughts. He leaned back slightly, gently guiding your face up so you could meet his gaze. His eyes were warm and filled with a kind of love that made your heart stutter.

“Then let me be strong for you,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “Let me remind you of who you are.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, then another to your temple, and one on each of your cheeks. Each kiss felt like a promise, a reminder that you weren’t alone in this battle. That he would be with you every step of the way.

“You are fierce, courageous, and filled with so much light,” Gale murmured, his lips ghosting over your skin. “You’ve saved me more times than I can count. You’ve faced down gods, monsters, and even your own fears. This… this tadpole, this thing inside you? It doesn’t stand a chance against your will.”

His words were like a balm to the turmoil inside you, but still, the fear lingered.

“But what if I can’t…?” you started, but Gale hushed you gently, his fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you closer.

“You can, and you will,” he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “And when you doubt yourself, know that I will be here, loving you through every moment of it. Every inch of you, no matter what happens.”

You let out a shaky breath, resting your forehead against his chest as he held you tightly.

“I don’t deserve you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Gale let out a soft, affectionate laugh, his hand tracing soothing patterns on your back. “Nonsense. It is I who doesn’t deserve you. But I am hopelessly in love with you, so I suppose we’ll have to settle for being perfectly undeserving of one another.”

Despite everything, a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Gale always had a way of making you feel like you were worth more than your fears, more than the darkness threatening to consume you.

He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes again, his own gaze brimming with affection.

“I love every part of you,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek again. “No matter what changes, no matter what happens, you will always be you. And I will always love you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Astarion:

The night sky hung heavy above the camp, stars flickering like distant dreams far beyond your grasp. You sat alone by the campfire, legs tucked close to your chest, staring into the flames as they danced, casting fleeting shadows on your face. The warmth from the fire did little to soothe the cold fear twisting inside you.

You could feel the changes. The shimmering lines that traced over your skin, the faint glow of something unnatural stirring beneath. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had done its work, sinking its claws into your body, warping it—warping you. You fought so hard to resist it, to stop it. But you had failed. And now, the fear gnawed at your heart, whispering that you were losing yourself. That soon, you wouldn’t be you anymore. What would you become?

A quiet sound drew your attention, a soft footstep in the grass. You didn’t need to look to know who it was—Astarion. He was always so careful with his movements, every step deliberate, even when he wasn’t trying to be quiet. He had noticed your absence from the group, and of course, he had come looking for you.

“Brooding by the fire, darling? You’re starting to sound like me,” Astarion teased, his voice warm with amusement. But there was an undercurrent of something else—concern, though he would never show it outright. He moved closer, his footsteps light as always, and crouched down beside you, his sharp eyes searching your face.

You turned your gaze away from him, staring down at your hands instead. The shimmering lines on your skin caught the firelight, making you feel like a stranger in your own body.

“I’m not in the mood for jokes right now, Astarion,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Astarion’s brow furrowed, and he shifted his weight, sitting down fully beside you. He tilted his head slightly, his expression softening as he took in the tension in your frame.

“What’s going on? You’ve been distant ever since…” He trailed off, his eyes flickering to the faint glow beneath your skin. “Since the tadpole’s changes started to show.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the rising lump in your throat. “I didn’t want this,” you said, voice trembling. “I tried so hard to stop it, but now… I don’t even recognize myself. It’s changing me, Astarion. I can feel it.” You finally turned to meet his gaze, tears threatening to spill over. “What if I lose myself? What if I become something… monstrous?”

The words hung heavy between you, and for a long moment, Astarion just stared at you, as though trying to comprehend the weight of your fears. You looked away again, unable to hold his gaze, your hands trembling in your lap.

“I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “If you can’t handle… whatever I’m becoming, I would understand.”

Astarion blinked, his eyes widening in disbelief. “Leave?” he repeated, the word sounding almost foreign on his lips. “Why in the Hells would I leave you?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the edge in his voice. Astarion’s expression shifted, something between confusion and hurt flashing in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, darling, but did I miss something? You think I would leave you because of this?” He gestured vaguely toward the shimmering lines on your skin. “This… tadpole nonsense?”

“I—” You faltered, the words catching in your throat.

Astarion scoffed lightly, but it wasn’t in his usual mocking tone. It was more… exasperated, as if the idea of leaving you was so absurd that he didn’t know how to process it.

“First of all, let me make one thing clear—I am not leaving you. Not now, not ever.” He leaned in closer, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart stutter. “Do you honestly think I would abandon you after everything we’ve been through?”

He cupped your face gently, his cool fingers brushing against your skin with surprising tenderness.

“You did this for me,” he said softly, his voice laced with emotion. “For all of us. You fought this fight because you didn’t want to lose any of us, because you wanted to protect us. And now, you think I’d just… walk away?” Astarion let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “You’ve clearly forgotten who you’re dealing with, love.”

You stared at him, your heart pounding in your chest. “But what if I become something else?” you asked, your voice shaking. “What if I can’t control it? What if I lose myself?”

Astarion’s expression softened, and he leaned in even closer, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you of who you are,” he whispered, his voice so tender it made your chest ache. “I won’t let you forget. You’re stronger than this. You always have been.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath. His words soothed the fear gnawing at your heart, but still, the uncertainty lingered.

“I’m scared,” you admitted quietly.

Astarion pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, his thumb brushing away a tear that had slipped down your cheek.

“I know,” he said softly. “But you don’t have to go through this alone. I’ll be with you every step of the way.”

A small, wry smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides,” he added, his tone shifting back to its usual playful lilt, “you’re still devastatingly attractive. Astral-tadpole glow and all. If anything, it adds a bit of mystery, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, the tension in your chest easing just a little.

“I don’t feel very attractive right now,” you muttered.

Astarion rolled his eyes dramatically. “Nonsense. You’re the most captivating creature I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve lived for over two centuries.” He leaned in to press a soft kiss to your temple, lingering there for a moment. “You’re still you, no matter what happens. And I love you. Tadpole and all.”

You smiled softly, the weight of your fears still there, but less suffocating with Astarion by your side. He always knew how to bring a bit of light into the darkest moments, and tonight was no exception.

As you leaned into his embrace, letting him hold you close, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you weren’t as lost as you feared. Not with Astarion beside you, reminding you of who you were, and loving you through it all.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll:

The camp was quiet, the crackling of the fire barely loud enough to drown out the swirl of emotions twisting in your chest. You sat by the fire, knees pulled close to your chest, staring blankly at your hands. The faint shimmer of the astral-touched lines that now marked your skin caught the firelight, making you feel like a stranger in your own body. The Astral-Touched Tadpole had done its work. You had tried so hard to fight it, to stop the transformation, but in the end, it had seeped into your very being.

You felt your heart clench at the thought. What were you becoming? Was this who you were now? Your skin glowed faintly, the unnatural light reminding you of your failure. A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, though it didn’t stop more from following. You tried to steady your breathing, but the fear was all-consuming—fear of losing yourself, of becoming something monstrous.

A familiar voice broke through the storm of your thoughts.

“Hey, there you are.” Wyll’s voice was soft, concerned, as he approached. His boots crunched lightly on the grass as he stopped just a few steps away. “I’ve been looking for you.”

You didn’t look up, still staring at your hands, at the changes you couldn’t undo.

“I don’t think you want to be here, Wyll,” you murmured, your voice low and trembling. Wyll knelt down beside you, his eyes full of concern.

“Why would you say that, love?” he asked, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against your arm.

You flinched slightly at the touch, though not from discomfort. You were scared—scared of what you were turning into.

“I failed,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I couldn’t stop it. The tadpole… it’s changing me. What if I become something terrible, something monstrous? What if I lose myself?”

Wyll’s expression softened, and he carefully reached for your hand, gently turning it over in his as he examined the glowing lines that marked your skin. He didn’t recoil, didn’t flinch or look at you with fear in his eyes. Instead, he gave you a small, understanding smile.

“You’re still you,” he said softly, his voice full of warmth. “These changes don’t define you.”

You shook your head, tears welling up again. “But what if they do? What if I lose control, Wyll? What if I forget who I am? I don’t… I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Wyll’s fingers tightened gently around yours, grounding you in the moment.

“You won’t lose yourself,” he said firmly. “You’re too strong for that. Too stubborn, too kind, too good to let that happen.”

You tried to pull your hand away, guilt and fear still clawing at you, but Wyll wouldn’t let you go. His grip was gentle but unyielding.

“Look at me,” he said softly.

Reluctantly, you met his gaze, your vision blurry with unshed tears.

“You are the bravest person I know,” Wyll continued, his voice unwavering. “You’ve faced impossible odds and never backed down. You’ve fought for the people you love, for strangers, for me. And nothing—nothing—can take that away from you. Not even this tadpole.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks, and Wyll wiped them away with his thumb, his touch tender and full of love.

“I’ve seen you at your strongest and your most vulnerable, and I love every part of you,” Wyll said, his voice soft but full of conviction. “This doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change you. You are still the person I fell in love with—the person I will always love.”

You shook your head, still feeling the weight of your fear pressing down on you. “But… what if I lose control? What if I forget who I am?”

Wyll stood, still holding your hand, and gently tugged you to your feet.

“Then I’ll be there to remind you,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “I’ll be there every step of the way. You won’t go through this alone.”

Before you could protest, Wyll pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as he held you against his chest.

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear.

You blinked, surprised by the request. “Wyll, I… I don’t think…”

He gently swayed, his hands guiding you into the rhythm. “Trust me,” he murmured. “Just let me hold you for a while.”

You hesitated for a moment, but the warmth of his embrace, the steady beat of his heart against yours, was too comforting to resist. Slowly, you let yourself relax into his arms, your head resting against his shoulder as he swayed you gently in time with the soft crackle of the campfire.

“There you go,” Wyll whispered, his voice soothing. “Just breathe. Just focus on me.”

He twirled you gently, his hand at the small of your back guiding you effortlessly. His warmth, his presence, was enough to momentarily quiet the storm raging inside you. It was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the worries and fears momentarily forgotten in the comfort of his arms.

“You’re not alone in this, love,” Wyll murmured against your hair. “I’m with you. Always.”

You let out a shaky breath, your tears drying as you leaned into him. “I’m scared, Wyll,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” he said softly, his hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. “But I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face this together.”

For a while, you just let him hold you, the gentle sway of his movements easing the tension in your body. The fear still lingered, but it wasn’t as overwhelming now, not with Wyll by your side. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be lost in the moment, in the warmth of his embrace and the quiet comfort of his words.

As the fire crackled softly in the background, Wyll pressed a gentle kiss to your temple.

“No matter what happens,” he whispered, “you will always be you to me. And I will always love you. Tadpole or not, you’re still my heart.”

You smiled faintly, your tears finally ceasing. For the first time since the changes began, you felt a flicker of hope, a glimmer of peace. And as you danced in the quiet of the night, held safe in Wyll’s arms, you knew that whatever came next, you wouldn’t face it alone.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Halsin:

The night was calm, but you couldn't find peace. You sat by the campfire, your knees drawn to your chest as you stared into the flickering flames, lost in the storm of your thoughts. The Astral-Touched Tadpole's presence in your body was a constant reminder of your failure—a failure to resist, to protect yourself from the changes it had begun to inflict on you. It had taken root, and no matter how hard you had fought, the battle had been lost.

Your fingers traced the faint, glowing lines that now ran along your arms, marking you as something… different. Something you didn’t recognize, and that thought terrified you. It wasn’t just the changes in your body that unnerved you, but the fear of losing who you were—your sense of self, your mind.

And then there was Halsin.

His reaction had stung more than anything else. When you had first told him what had happened, the horror in his eyes had been unmistakable. He had pulled away from you, his usual warmth replaced with cold, silent shock. His words were harsh and broke your heart. You had done it to save the group, to save him, and yet he had recoiled, reprimanded. That rejection made the weight in your chest all the heavier.

You hadn’t spoken to him since.

Now, as the fire crackled softly before you, you felt the loneliness settle in—a gnawing emptiness where Halsin’s presence should have been. You had always been able to count on him, his steady presence and his comforting words. But now, in the one moment you needed him most, he was absent.

A faint rustle of leaves caught your attention, and you glanced up to see Halsin approaching the campfire. His broad frame was silhouetted against the trees, his expression unreadable as he walked toward you. For a moment, your heart clenched, a mix of hope and fear swirling in your chest. Was he here to turn away from you again? To tell you that you had made a mistake too great to forgive?

He stopped a few steps away from you, his eyes locking with yours. There was a heaviness to his gaze, a sorrow that mirrored your own. For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the silence between you thick with unspoken tension. Then, Halsin knelt beside you, lowering himself to sit on the ground, close but not too close.

"Forgive me," he said quietly, his voice laced with regret. "I reacted poorly. I let my fear guide my actions, and in doing so, I hurt you."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling into your chest. You had expected anger or disappointment—anything but this quiet admission of guilt.

"I… I didn’t know what to do," you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. "I tried so hard to resist, but it was too much. And now…" Your gaze fell to your hands again, tracing the glowing veins that ran beneath your skin. "Now I don’t even know what I am anymore. I’m scared, Halsin."

He reached out then, his large hand covering yours gently. The warmth of his touch was a balm to the fear that had been clawing at your heart.

"I know," he said softly. "I can see the pain this has caused you, and I am sorry for adding to it. When I first saw what the tadpole had done, I… I was overwhelmed. It reminded me of the darkness I have seen, the corruption I have fought against for so long. But you are not corrupted. You are still you."

"How can you be sure?" you asked, your voice trembling. "What if I change? What if I become something… monstrous?"

Halsin’s grip on your hand tightened, firm but reassuring. "You are stronger than you realize," he said, his deep voice steady and filled with conviction. "This tadpole may have marked your body, but it does not define who you are. You are more than this—more than what has been done to you. And I will be with you, no matter what comes. I swear it."

His words brought a lump to your throat, and tears you had been holding back began to well up in your eyes.

"You… you pulled away," you whispered, the hurt still raw in your chest. "It felt like you didn’t want me anymore."

Halsin’s expression softened, a deep sadness crossing his face.

"I pulled away because I was afraid," he admitted. "Not of you, but of what I might lose if I couldn’t protect you. I have seen so much pain, so much loss, and I couldn’t bear the thought of watching the person I love slip away into something beyond my reach. But I see now that by pulling away, I was failing you in a different way."

You felt the tears spill over then, and you lowered your head, your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Halsin shifted closer, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you into his strong embrace. You buried your face in his chest, the scent of earth and wildflowers familiar and comforting.

"You haven’t lost me," you choked out through the tears. "I’m still here, Halsin… I’m still me. But I don’t know how long I can hold on to that."

Halsin held you tighter, his chin resting on the top of your head.

"Then I will help you hold on," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I will be here, every step of the way. You will not face this alone. I promise you, I will never abandon you."

His words wrapped around your heart like a lifeline, and for the first time since the tadpole had taken root, you felt a flicker of hope. Halsin wasn’t leaving. He wasn’t pulling away. He was staying, standing by your side just as he had promised from the beginning.

After a long moment, you pulled back slightly, wiping at your tear-streaked face. Halsin’s eyes were full of love and warmth as he cupped your cheek in his hand.

"You are not alone in this," he reminded you gently. "We are stronger together. Always."

You nodded, feeling the weight in your chest begin to lift, just a little.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but steadier than before. "For not giving up on me."

Halsin smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "I could never give up on you," he said. "You are my heart. We will face whatever comes, together."

As you leaned into his embrace once more, the warmth of the fire and the steadiness of Halsin’s presence soothed your fears.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ooof a little hurt/comfort for y'all, hope you guys enjoyed it ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[growthhyp]

The Transforming Cum II

Chris leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his now impossibly broad chest. His shirt was long gone, shredded during his transformation into a walking god of muscle. Across from him, Zayne stood similarly shirtless, his body still rippling with the aftershocks of what had just happened to him.

“Well,” Chris said, his voice dripping with that trademark cockiness they both seemed to share now. “Looks like we’re in this together.”

Zayne ran a hand down his abs, still marveling at the impossible hardness of them. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He had been the one in control, the one pulling the strings. And yet here he was, transformed. Just like Chris. He glanced up, catching Chris’s smirk.

“You think it’s funny?” Zayne asked, though there was no real malice in his tone. How could there be? He felt… amazing. Strong. Unstoppable.

“I think it’s fucking perfect,” Chris replied. “We’re not just stronger now. We’re better. Think about it, Zayne. We can do more than just transform ourselves. We can change others. Make them better too.”

Zayne’s brow furrowed. “What are you talking about?”

Chris stepped closer, his towering frame blocking out the light. “Our… essence.” He gestured vaguely downward. “It changes people. You saw what it did to you. What if we used that? Spread it. Imagine a world where every man is strong. Healthy. Confident. No more weakness. No more sickness.”

The idea hung between them for a moment, heavy with possibility. Zayne’s mind raced. He had always wanted to help people. That’s why he’d started experimenting with hypnosis in the first place. But this… this was something else entirely. Dangerous. Exhilarating.

“And how exactly would we do that?” Zayne asked, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear Chris say it.

Chris grinned, slow and wicked. “Same way I changed you.”

The silence stretched, thick with unspoken understanding. Finally, Zayne nodded. “Alright. Let’s test it.”

---

They found Jonathan at the park, sitting on a bench, his breathing labored as he tried to recover from the short walk from his car. At 33 years old, 6’1”, and pushing 300 pounds, he was the picture of poor health. His heart condition made even the simplest tasks daunting. He looked up as Chris and Zayne approached, their sheer presence demanding attention.

“Uh… can I help you?” Jonathan asked, his voice uncertain.

Chris smiled, all charm and confidence. “Actually, we’re here to help you.”

Jonathan blinked. “Me? What are you talking about?”

Zayne stepped forward, his voice smooth, hypnotic. “We can see you’re struggling, Jonathan. Your body… it’s holding you back. But it doesn’t have to be that way. We can help you become stronger. Healthier. The man you were always meant to be.”

Jonathan stared at them, confusion etched across his face. “How?”

Chris exchanged a glance with Zayne before nodding. “Trust us,” Chris said, his voice low and commanding. “All you have to do is relax.”

Jonathan hesitated, but there was something about the pair in front of him—something magnetic. Before he knew it, he was nodding slowly. “Okay…”

Zayne moved closer, kneeling in front of Jonathan so their eyes were level. His voice dropped to a whisper, each word laced with power. “Look into my eyes, Jonathan. Focus on my voice. Let everything else fade away.”

Jonathan’s gaze locked onto Zayne’s, his breathing evening out as he fell under the spell. Zayne continued, his words weaving through Jonathan’s mind like a serpent. “You want to feel strong. Healthy. Powerful. Imagine your body changing, the fat melting away, replaced by pure muscle. Feel the strength surging through you, the vitality, the confidence.”

As Zayne spoke, Chris watched intently, his own excitement growing. He could see it happening—the flicker of change in Jonathan’s expression, the subtle shift in his posture. It was working.

“Now,” Zayne said, his voice dropping even lower, almost sinful. “When Chris gives you his gift, you will accept it fully. Open yourself to the transformation. Let it consume you.”

Chris didn’t wait. He stepped forward, his movements deliberate as he unbuckled his pants. Jonathan’s eyes widened slightly, but he didn’t protest. Couldn’t protest. Zayne’s hold on him was absolute.

Chris gripped himself, already hard, and stepped closer. “Open wide,” he commanded, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Jonathan obeyed without hesitation, his mouth parting slightly. Chris smirked, stepping closer until he was right in front of Jonathan. With a low groan, he released, his seed spilling into Jonathan’s waiting mouth.

The effect was immediate. Jonathan’s body jerked, his muscles spasming as the transformation began. His skin tightened, his frame expanding as fat was replaced by pure muscle. His shirt strained against his chest, buttons popping off as his pecs swelled. His gut disappeared, replaced by a set of abs that looked like they’d been chiseled from stone.

Chris stepped back, admiring their work. “Look at him,” he said, his voice tinged with awe. “He’s perfect.”

Zayne nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “It worked. It really worked.”

Jonathan gasped, his hands flying to his chest as he felt the changes wrack his body. His breathing was steady now, his heart pounding not from strain, but from raw energy. He looked up at them, his eyes wide with shock and something else—gratitude.

“What… what happened to me?” he asked, his voice stronger now, richer.

Chris clapped a hand on Jonathan’s shoulder, the weight of it grounding. “We made you better, Jon bigger stronger healthier confident what next?

[mothhball]

SANGUINEOUS

JONATHAN CRANE X VAMPIRE!FEM!READER

summary Jon takes the time to feed his pet

warnings SMUT!! PET PLAY, sub!reader, p in v, unprotected, dom/sub themes, injury, blood drinking, pet names for reader (pet, good girl), death mention, reader kinda ate (literally)

notesI had Nolanverse in mind while writing, but there's not much description of him lmao. Also, this was supposed to be the pet play entry for kinktober but 😬 my bad, whoops

! MINORS DNI !

event masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.6k

The floor felt cold beneath you, sending a shiver down your spine as you watched him with bated breath, waiting for a command, a word of praise, anything.

There was a fire in your eyes, never waning, never dying. You’d outlast his life tenfold, and he knew it as well, but that wasn’t a conversation for nights like these. No, on nights like these, he’d make you crawl, gloved hands and stockinged knees. A predator, adorned with lace and silk and a collar around your neck.

Two truths made up the foundation of this peculiar relationship.

Firstly, both of you knew that you could easily destroy him. Tear him to pieces until he'd be little more than disassembled flesh and bone. Until the sweet essence of his body would cover you in brilliant, scarlet rivulets.

But secondly and more importantly, you both knew that he'd trained you well enough so you wouldn't.

As much as you held the power of life and death within your palm, Jonathan held the leash that kept you tethered to his side. A snarling, exotic pet that bent to his will.

And exactly this predicament was what got you addicted in the first place.

The sensation of kneeling; of obeying. The delicious humiliation of submitting to what was supposed to be prey. The lust in his eyes always mirrored your own, because as much as he liked to lead and own, you desired to follow and be possessed.

“Jonathan,” you rasped, fixing him with gleaming, insatiable eyes from where you knelt before him. The clicking of his tongue betrayed his disapproval, but there was no ire in his eyes. No, the icy blue of his irises was almost completely eclipsed by his blown-out pupils, darkened with a need that only you could satiate.

“Pets don’t speak, do they?”

Your jaw clenched at that, lips pulling down into a frustrated pout, which only caused him to chuckle lowly. His pointer finger flexed, silently commanding you to get closer to where he was seated on the edge of his workbench. Of course, you knew what he kept in those sickly green vials and syringes. You knew from the second he stumbled upon you that fateful night, mistaking you for a helpless little thing he could use to test his latest concoction.

It was only when you revealed your nature that the tables turned instantly. In hindsight, you were happy that you didn’t rip his throat open; that you took the time to see him for what he was. Now, you were monsters of two different kinds, toying with each other in ways that made your skin crawl delightfully.

You followed the gesture of his finger, breath hitching as he hooked it into the metal ring of your collar and yanked you even closer and up on your knees, cheek resting on his thigh.

“You’re famished, aren’t you, pet?” he said, regarding you with a haughty smile that caused your insides to shiver with need. You didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. Jonathan knew the telltale signs of your vampiric hunger; could tell by your posture, the lacking health of your hair, and dull skin.

He hummed, thumb caressing your jaw as he kept his eyes on your ruby ones. Then, he patted his lap with his free hand.

“Up.”

The bell on your collar jingled as you got settled in his lap, straddling his thighs and shifting to get comfortable. Jonathan allowed it, surprisingly patient for a man who adored the marks that a little rough treatment would leave on your body. But for now, he just watched as you got situated, his fingers idly tracing patterns over your hip, which caused goosebumps to spread beneath his touch. Once you were finally settled, he brushed the back of his hand over your cheek and then higher up to adjust the plush cat ears on the top of your head. Something you used to pretend to hate. Fortunately, Jonathan was stubborn enough to insist on them time and time again. Until you gave in and openly started to enjoy the little accessories and trinkets.

“Good girl,” he praised softly, grabbing the back of your neck.

Your eyes were fixed on his nimble hands as he undid his tie and the first two buttons of his shirt. Instantly, your attention was caught by the steady thrumming of his pulse beneath his skin. The mere thought of his velvety blood on your tongue already made you salivate. A willing morsel.

“No. Focus.”

His voice and the tightening grip on your nape released you from your momentary trance, and you swallowed thickly. “You know the drill.”

His cock was already hard by the time he freed himself from the confines of his slacks. Obediently as ever, you raised your hips and allowed him to pull your panties down and carelessly toss them aside.

With how quickly you were complying, one might’ve thought your years of immortality were about to catch up to you. But it was the hunger that drove the urgency of your movements. Hunger that felt like a black hole in the pit of your stomach. A hole that only the rich, sanguine lifeblood of your master could fill.

Jonathan’s free hand crept up the inside of your thigh at an agonizing snail’s pace, taking far too long for your liking until his fingertips dipped between the glistening folds of your pussy. Fleeting pleasure. Far too little to please, yet too much to stay still. Your needy whine earns yourself a tug on your hair.

“Behave,” he warned, rubbing slow circles around your clit. Jonathan let go of your hair again, unbuttoning his shirt more and more to properly expose his shoulder. You almost bit your own tongue at the sight. The faintest visible throb of his heartbeat, the healthy flush on his pale complexion; arousal, excitement.

And a hint of fear.

Terror beneath rose-tinted glasses.

It was an exercise of restraint as he made you sink down on his length, stretching you open around his cock. The appetizer to the impending main course.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, breath heavy and hands grasping onto the flesh of your hips as he looked up at you. Eyes full of need. Of reverence and trepidation.

And then, Jonathan dipped his head back to bare his throat to his most favorite pet.

“Feed.”

Your mouth was on his throat within seconds as you pounced like the predator you were. Tongue lapping at his skin, you felt the steady beat of his heart as you licked a stripe up the column of his neck. And then you sunk your teeth into his flesh. Deeply.

The man beneath you flinched, his grip tightening on you as a pained groan slipped past his rosy lips. The initial bite always hurt. But what followed was the sweetest pleasure. His eyelids fluttered shut as you began to swallow gulps of his blood, drinking him like the most exquisite wine.

Jonathan had to pull himself together, gritting his teeth to focus as he began to thrust up into you, fulfilling his own carnal desires. Quickly taking the hint, you followed along to his rhythm, meeting every roll of his hips with one of your own.

Moaning with a mouthful of blood, your hands found their way into his hair, desperately tugging and pulling as your mind started to blank. Debased, bouncing in the lap of your master, you were less than and more than human at the same time.

A creature tamed by pleasure.

As Jonathan slowly started to become light-headed, his fingers curled into the back of your collar to pull you off of him, and after one more flick of your tongue against the wound, you released his flesh from between your fangs.

Both of you were panting and whimpering, working up to a desperate climax that was rapidly approaching. Jonathan’s blood was smeared across your parted lips, rolling down your chin and throat in beautiful runlets, and disappearing in the valley between your breasts. If this were the last thing he’d ever see, Jonathan was sure he could die a happy death.

But not now.

Right now, he was alive, and his thrusts sped up as he neared the edge. Despite the loss of blood, his pulse sounded even louder in his ears, and you could hear it as well.

Gritting his teeth, he reached down your bodies to rub your clit with his thumb, determined to push you over the edge first. It’s what any good owner would do.

The filthy moan he got from you in response was reward enough for him, and even in this state, he still managed to grin up at you as your face twisted with pleasure. Grabbing onto his shoulders, your back arched as you came, whimpering and choking out noises with your face tilted towards the ceiling.

Jonathan’s pace only quickened, emboldened by the sight of your trembling form and the exquisite clenching of your slick folds around his cock. Even as you began to squirm, his thumb kept circling your clit.

“No. No, don’t pull away. Don’t be greedy, pet. Let me have this– “ His voice was strained, hissed out from between bared teeth as the bucking of his hips grew more erratic.

One more thrust. And then another. And he finally, finally succumbed to the bliss of his own climax. Jonathan cursed under his breath, pulling your body flush against his to get to your shoulder, where he sank his own teeth into your skin. Or, well, tried to. Aside from the dull pain, he didn’t do any damage.

His bite would leave a bruise; yours would leave a scar. One of many.

And neither of you would ever want it any other way.

@ellebellebarnes @harrystyelsgf @mcumorningstar @mandies24 @detroitbecomevenom

@pretty-bluebird @calicoartie @vampmary1411 @ashdrinksoatmilk @sillycillyforlife

@ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @biblicallyaccuratebee

@notveryoptimistic @smxkyqvxrtz @luvlloyd @blvdymary @paradiseprincesss

@vegasisthinking @ilovedottore @cillianslvt @ddawgg1 @tkappi

@humbuginmybones @jordyn-yeager @chaengist @ryecosse @strangeobsessed

[darlingdaisyfarm]

Please can you write something with Bill? 🥺 I would really like him in your writing style

✮⋆˙ twinkle twinkle little star (Bill Cipher x reader)

author note: hii, so this is my first time writing Bill Cipher (if we’re not counting smut LOL), so if he feels a little OOC, I’m so sorry in advance :((

“You’ve got no idea how small you are. A little ant, crawling on the rim of a soda can, thinking the universe stops where the metal curves. But you’re lucky, babe. You’ve got me to show you the truth.”

You never should’ve made that deal and you knew it.  

You should've known better than to trust him.

“Love” wasn’t the word for it.

At first, it felt. . .  flattering. Who wouldn’t be seduced by the idea of being special in the eyes of something so vast, so incomprehensible? But Bill wasn’t the type to love, not in the way you understood it. 

He didn’t love you, not the way humans did. Bill Cipher didn’t do love. You were his curiosity, obsession, a bright, burning light in his endless void. 

He called you his little star, but very soon it turned into his pretty, breakable toy. And you hated how the words made your skin prickle, how his attention felt like sunlight filtered through glass, so beautiful and searing, but dangerous if you stayed too long.

He never asked you to love him. That would imply some sort of equality, wouldn’t it? Something mutual, balanced, tender. No, Bill Cipher wasn’t a man or a demon. . . or a whatever he was, who traded in such mortal trivialities. Love? What even was that, anyway? A chemical spill in the brain? A pathetic excuse for self-destruction? Hilarious!

Instead of your love, Bill demanded your existence. Every breath, every thought, every fleeting moment of fear or fury or fascination, it all belonged to him, as surely as the stars belonged to the sky. And wasn’t that the whole point? To take something so ordinary, so inconsequential and remake it in his image?

Bill didn’t love you. He consumed you. 

He didn’t care about your happiness or well-being, but he cared about your essence and your potential. 

The stars were his obsession, and now you were too.

When he first spoke to you about the them, he said, “you humans love to romanticize the heavens, don’t you? Gazing up with your sad little eyes, dreaming of escape, like you’re anything more than dust stuck in a whirlpool. But you, sweetheart, you could be a star if you wanted.” 

And it sounded too tempting.

***

With fear and trepidation, you realised that you would like him to appear more often in your life. You felt lonely and empty without that singular eye which was so damn alive in ways human ones could never be. When Bill Cipher looked at you it felt as if the fabric of the universe peeled back, and for the first time, someone truly saw you.

“You’re different,” he whispered once and his voice sounded like molten gold. “They’re all rats in a maze, but you’ve got potential. You could shine, dear.”  and you believed him.

Maybe that’s why, when he first tore the sky apart and dragged you into a void of glittering stars, you didn’t scream.

Because Bill doesn’t show you space, he shoves you into it. 

It was fucked up, all of it. 

The way he could snap his fingers and peel the world apart like wallpaper, exposing the writhing void beneath it. Bill doesn’t do anything halfway. One moment you’re standing on Earth, listening to him wax poetic about infinity; the next, you’re drowning in the universe itself. 

“Look what I can do. Look what I’ve seen. And now, you get to see it too!” Bill said excitedly meanwhile all you could do was only stare, slack-jawed, as galaxies spun like pinwheels with their light painting you in hues of silver and violet.  

Bill’s laugh cuts through the silence like static on a dying radio. “Beautiful, isn’t it, dear? A front-row seat to the cosmic symphony! And guess what? You’re the lucky guest of honor!”

“Fuck,” you whispered in awe, not even daring to blink.

Bill laughed at you again. “Exactly, baby! Fuck! That’s the kind of reaction I’m talking about! Do you get it now? While all these other ants were busy bumping into walls, I saw this. This!”

His eye spun toward you, unblinking, watching you from head to toe. He watched you both worshipful and utterly unhinged because for him you were part of those infinite constellations he adored, he watched you like you were the only thing that mattered in a universe of infinite distractions.

“You could be one too. A star.” Cipher spoke.

You didn’t ask what he meant back then, only laughed. “Stars burn out, Bill.”  

“Yeah, but they make one hell of a show first.” 

But how sad that stars didn’t just shine, they exploded.

***

It wasn’t all chaos and destruction, not at first. There were soft and tender nights, when the storm of his mind calmed just enough to let the starlight through.

Bill Cipher didn’t have lips to kiss, but he had power and he wielded it for you when he felt like it.

One of the clearest proofs of his power was that night by the lake.

You remember it, the night the moons danced just for you. 

Bill hated water, loathed its constraints, its rules, but he was levitating beside you anyway, watching as you waded deeper. You floated on your back, staring up at the night sky, feeling the silence, enjoying it. His eye gleamed in the darkness, lighting you up, taking you in like a masterpiece he didn’t know how to ruin just yet, but there was unusual softness in his voice when he snapped his fingers. 

And the moons, now two of them, impossibly large, swelled and glowed with light. And then the lake shimmered, the ripples reflected the radiance until it looked as though you were swimming through liquid silver, no. . . melted pearls in their beauty.

And it took your breath away.

“You like it?” he asked in a casual tone. “I can make it brighter, if you want. Or darker. Or gone.” 

And as if reading your mind, Bill snapped his fingers once more and the two moons shone even brighter.

“Better now, right? It’s for you, sweetie,” he said, leaning on his cane. “The moon, the stars. . . hell, the universe.”

You hated how beautiful it was. How much it felt like it was for you. But back then, you felt loved. Or at least, something close enough to it.  

***

Bill was everywhere. In your mind, in your shadow, in the air you breathed.

But love with Bill was never meant to be gentle, it meant to be a trap. A game played in his favor, in which you were destined to lose. It started small, quiet, too quiet to notice and react, his words cutting deeper, his charm was imbued with a poison. He didn’t just want you near; he wanted to own you, to reshape you in his image, to pull you apart until there was nothing left but the star he claimed to see in you.

He didn’t just want your attention, he demanded it, craved it with a desperation that was feral. And when you tried to push back, tried to claim even the smallest piece of yourself, he didn’t take it well.

One night, after you’d dared to argue with him, to tell him no, he burned with a rage that lit up the sky. His form glowed red, large, his voice so loud and low that made the ground tremble beneath your feet.

“You think you can defy me? You think you can just walk away? Newsflash, sweetheart: you’re mine. You’ve always been mine. And you’re not going anywhere.”

He grew restless. Obsession turned to cruelty. When he spoke, it was no longer about the stars you could see, but the ones he wanted you to become. His anger was cosmic, vast and unrelenting, and it terrified you.

“You’re wasting yourself here,” he snarled one day, his triangular form flashing red again as he hovered above you. “These people, this place, they’re nothing. I could make you mor—”  

“W-what are you even talking about, Bill?” you spat, though your voice trembled. “I’m human, Bill. I can’t—”  

“Bullshit! You can. You just won’t. And that’s what makes you pathetic. You think you can leave me? Do you even know what I’ve done for you? What I’ve shown you?”

You stared at him, trembling, but still defiant. “You’ve shown me a prison with a prettier view.”

And Cipher only laughed. “Prison? Sweetheart, I’ve given you the fucking stars! You’d be nothing without me. Nothing.” if he had a mouth, it’d be that disgusting crazy wide grin.

You wanted to run. But how do you run from someone who can rewrite the very ground beneath your feet?

***

You remember the terror of Weirdmageddon because you were at the center of it all. Not by choice, never by choice, but because that’s what he wanted. And what Bill Cipher wanted, he took.

But when it was over, when the Pines family managed the impossible, when Bill was defeated, erased from Stanley’s mind, when they unraveled Bill’s madness, tore him apart, and your world snapped back into place, the silence felt. . . deafening. 

You didn’t see Bill fall, not directly, but you felt it, you knew it was over, the sudden, aching silence where his presence used to be.  

The world felt smaller without him, quieter, duller. And you hated yourself for noticing.

You should’ve been relieved.

But instead, you stood in the ashes of his world, staring up at a sky, at the empty space where his chaos had once burned so brightly.

You didn’t cry. You didn’t laugh. 

And you remembered the stars. But Bill taught you that stars were always meant to burn out.

You remembered the way his voice softened when he talked about them, how excited and happy he sounded, the way he’d show you galaxies as if they were flowers he’d plucked just for you. You remembered the way he watched you, like you were the only thing in all of creation that mattered.

Even now, after his fall, you hope he remembers the galaxies. . . or if he’s just another forgotten star, lost to the void.

And you wondered if, somewhere, in some forgotten corner of the universe, he remembered and saw stars too.

[daistea]

Hi Daistea! You are absolutly THE Mithrun writer! You catch his essence so well

I was wondering if you could write a prequel to "first burn"? I would love to hear more of his thoughts about cultivating his desire for intimacy and affection with reader

Thank you so much for doing such good for the fandom!

Thank you friend! Here you go, though I kinda just.. rambled with this one. I was just having fun, I hope you like it.

Mithrun x gn Reader

Post-Canon / spoilers maybe

word count: 2,200

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

It wasn’t as if there was a handbook on how to cultivate desires. It wasn’t as if ‘normal’ people understood and recognized the process of desire. It wasn’t as if Mithrun had any clue what he was doing. 

 That, in and of itself, felt like a swaying tightrope he was only barely balancing on. Atop that, discomfort was a new concept. The end result was only more stark, suffocating discomfort. Mithrun usually knew what to do; if he ever had to figure something out, the solution came quickly, effortlessly. He was beginning to think he’d been spoiled in that area. Having such unfettered focus lended itself to problem solving. 

 Mithrun watched you. Perhaps he could be the one to write the handbook on desire. And there’d be an entire chapter dedicated to you. Was it possible to have a desire for desire? He supposed as much. He was stuck on the outer rims of the feeling, staring through a dusty window at what could be if only he could be. He was a planet stuck in the farthest orbit from the sun, and it was cold, and nobody really saw him there in the sky because he was so damn far away. 

 You ran your fingers through your hair. His attention snapped back to you like a taut rubber band. There must be a footnote in the handbook on cultivating desires about your small habits. You fidgeted, you shifted, your smile twisted into different shapes depending on your mood and every one of these habits must be footnoted. 

 Mithrun couldn’t help but make a grimace. He rested his chin in his palm and tore his gaze away, instead following the lines of the wooden panels in the wall of the restaurant. The handbook was going to be long— Gods, he wasn’t going to write it, he didn’t care enough to put in the effort. Nevertheless, one of the jagged lines in the wood paneling unlocked something within his brain. The very fact that he relentlessly took note of your every minute detail said something. 

 What did it say? Mithrun moved onto the next line in the wood. It gave him nothing. What did it say, Mithrun? What was the implication? It isn’t a hard question, Mithrun. Just answer. Just say it. Just—

 He clenched his fist. He clenched so hard that his knuckles turned white. You were still chatting away with the restaurant owner and he had half a mind to grab you by the waist and teleport you elsewhere, a place where you’d only pay attention to him. Only him. Perhaps that would answer the devastatingly easy implications that confounded him. 

 A wandering part of his mind, a traveler— which was a new feature: wandering— brought forth a query. What would you say about his inner turmoil? Most likely something along the lines of ‘I’m proud of you for trying, don’t pressure yourself so much.’ And he would ignore your words entirely because Mithrun wanted to want. 

 He must do something. There was that objective knowledge of what the situation required, it wasn’t exactly desire, but it was motivating. You deserved more. You deserved to have your hand held. You deserved kisses on your neck. You deserved gasps and moans and weak knees. He imagined the scene; you, beneath him, or in his lap, perhaps. You, closing your eyes, brows furrowed, whimpering as you sunk down and…

 Nothing. Mithrun knew he was making some sort of face, because a half-foot scurried past his table with wide eyes. Whatever. 

 Enough, he decided. It had been forty years since he had experienced any form of physical intimacy. While some feelings were more difficult to connect with, frustration was one of the easiest to identify. He’d had enough.

 Without a word to you— he probably should’ve given you a word, but he was in a hurry— Mithrun called upon his mana, the lingering spirits, and clenched his fist. A fourth of a second passed, a blink of an eye. He didn’t mean to end up on the kitchen floor of his apartment, but fine. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but you.

 Mithrun sighed and laid back. The tile was cool on the exposed skin of his hands as he stretched out his limbs. There were cobwebs in the corners of the ceilings. He could already feel a dull headache coming on from the hardness of the floor. Okay. 

 Routine: eyes closed, deep breaths, sinking into the floor and smelling the air and hearing the sounds. His kitchen smelled like soap. The sounds were absent. Images of you flickered through his mind, a rope gently tied around his body, pulling him deeper into the warm flood-waters. He imagined your arms, your waist, your thighs, your lips, your eyes, your laugh, your gasps, your stare, your hair, your hands, your knees, your chest, your stomach. Then, running his hands up your waist. Holding you. How would you feel with your body against his? How would your hand fit with his? 

 For a moment, Mithrun felt his heart pull and twist. Objectively, that was the physical reaction to adrenaline hormones in one’s body; anxiety. Yet, he didn’t believe he was anxious. He took a moment to wrack his brain, and the process of doing so always reminded him of the file room in the old Canaries headquarters. Papers would flip across his thumb as he searched for the right information. All he needed was a glimpse of the right set of letters, the right combination of words, until he found what he needed. 

 For an elf, forty-ish years wasn’t too long. Mithrun had spent the majority of his life as an entirely different person— may he rest in agony. He sometimes looked back on memories in order to identify a feeling. Past Mithrun would feel that pull and twist when Lord Kerensil made those snide comments about Mithrun’s biological father. That twist and pull was always present when Obrin idly, innocently, mentioned an investment deal he’d been allowed to participate in, as the heir to the House of Kerensil. That twist and pull was present when he saw Sultha send Obrin those wry smiles, how her lips twisted in a way that made Mithrun sick to his stomach. 

 To even dare associate that feeling with you brought the same nausea. 

 Yet, perhaps it wasn’t about you. 

 Perhaps it was him. Perhaps it was the self-loathing. He’d always carried it like a disease, though the symptoms only appeared in certain moments. Lately, though, he’d been sick with it more often than not. The happiness of a new purpose was parallel to the newfound connection with his more negative emotions. Mithrun supposed that it was person-hood; anger, sadness, joy, attraction, deep and intense adoration that made him physically ill when he meditated for too long about how he couldn’t quite feel the allure of a kiss. 

 That was his person-hood. Mithrun’s life was a constant struggle, and the kitchen floor felt abnormally cold that evening. 

 Kabru suggested that Mithrun keep track of new developments. It would help him, Kabru said. Mithrun had no protests nor interest in the theory, but nothing better to do, so he had a journal. Thus far, only one page in the journal had been filled. It said: 

1. Cheese is alright, preferably on bread

 Very exciting, at least for some— you and Kabru, particularly. Mithrun had a preference! Despite your excitement, you still put up your hands and waved them as if to ward off the positivity, “You’ve always had preferences, you know. It was just easy to overlook them.”

 Mithrun supposed you were right. He had plenty to complain about. That was preference-based, in a way. Obsession over the demon was such a large issue, though, that it left no room for anything else. It was like a flood, seeping into every corner, taking every inch, leaving nothing untouched and dry. 

 The second item in the journal was:

2. Black coffee, two sugars

 That was how he used to drink it. Some things never changed. Even if the timing was different throughout the year, the sun would always rise and set.

3. Desiring some sort of physical contact involving hands (with [name] specifically)

 And when Mithrun desired something, he would have it. Inevitable. He knew from an objective standpoint that carrying on with that view would only lead to disappointment, but the desire to change did not arise.

 Mithrun began taking your hand whenever the opportunity presented itself. 

 The first time, you glanced at him. Your lips were parted and your eyes the slightest bit wider. You looked down at your intertwined fingers. Mithrun did not dare look away from your face as you studied how each finger fit together like pieces of a puzzle— designed specifically for each other. 

 When you turned your head back to the person you were originally speaking to and resumed your conversation, satisfaction like a warm blanket settled over Mithrun’s shoulders and chest. He may have looked a bit smug without realizing it, for your conversation partner sent him a look. 

Next:

4. The palm is more sensitive than I remember. I think it would be okay to use it. 

 Mithrun pressed the palm of his hand against the small of your back. You had no reaction. He wasn’t sure whether to be pleased that you accepted his touch so readily, or displeased that he saw no acknowledgement. He settled for some in-between feeling that even Past Mithrun could not identify. 

 Without putting it into certain words, Mithrun had an idea of why his skin felt so sensitive to your touch. For one, he’d gone so long without physical touch that his nerves were desert dwellers encountering an oasis for the first time. Secondly, it was the broadest part of the hand. The fingers were important, of course, they wrapped and they clutched and they stroked. Yet, the palm was deeper. It was taken for granted. Everybody in possession of fingers used them every day of their life. They were mundane, almost. The palm, though, was for cradling. The palm was for tracing. The palm was—

 Mithrun lifted your hand without a second thought. He’d nearly forgotten what shame felt like, it was another one of those objective feelings that he could identify in others but not quite connect with. Shame was not present at that moment, and he was pleased for that fact. If he had shame, then he would not experience the feeling of your palm against his lips. 

 He held your wrist with both hands. Your skin smelled like soap, and it was not exactly soft. There were lines and ridges on the palm, but he took a moment to memorize the shape of each one against his lips as he pressed a kiss to the spot between your thumb and index finger. 

 Your conversation partner looked away. You looked at Mithrun. He looked at you, his good eye fluttering open and taking in the sight of your expectancy and surprise and fondness and embarrassment. 

 Three seconds passed. Mithrun knew it was three seconds that passed because he counted. One, pause. Two, pause. Three, pause. 

 You swallowed and looked back at the person you’d been speaking to. Mithrun knew them, but didn’t care enough to allow his brain to make that connection between their face and his memories. His gaze was solely on you. Your profile was silhouetted against the orange sunset of Melini. 

 “Anyway, what were you saying?” You asked the person Mithrun didn’t care to identify— because you were the newest flood. You spread in a similar manner, filling up every inch and leaving nothing dry. Something in the back of his mind told him that that wasn’t healthy. Where there was a flood, there was mold and rot and destruction. 

 Whatever. 

 “The state of Melini,” your conversation partner said, “it’s really becoming a nation now.”

 You nodded, “It’ll take time, but we’ll get there.”

 That was such a generic statement, but you believed it. Perhaps the commonplace quality of the statement was what made it less feasible. Yet, when coming from your lips, Mithrun could almost imagine it. 

 Your lips. You said the most wonderful things, even when they were totally common and quotidian. You could tell Mithrun that the sun had exploded, and despite the clear existence of the sun in the sky at that very moment, he’d agree with you simply to see you satisfied.

 The desire to kiss you hit Mithrun like a slap to the face— no, actually, Past Mithrun had been slapped several times before, and he always knew it was coming. The desire to kiss you hit him like the taste of cheese on toasted bread, like the pleasure of a black coffee with two sugars, like the shiver down his spine when your palm pressed against his. 

 And finally, the handbook of desire was written. There were no words. It didn’t need words. 

 He desired you. 

 What even was attraction? What even was happiness and anger and desire? It was so subjective that the answer would never satisfy the inquirer. And Mithrun was tired of dissatisfaction.

 And it was time to act. 

 And it was time to open the gates. 

 And it was time to drown in desires he’d never let himself acknowledge. 

5. Start slowly. Whatever happens, happens. You can want now. 

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

[navybrat817]

The man spread. 🤤

(Also the face he's making....)

(Also, hi! ❤️)

Hi, lovely! You know I couldn't resist doing something for Titan and Starshine for you!

Photogenic

Pairing: College!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: You love one of the photos Roxy took of Bucky, but he isn't having it.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, insecurities, kissing, established relationship, college love, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?)

A/N: Another small ficlet for Titan and Starshine.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the lovely @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If there was one thing your roommate took seriously, it was her photography. It wasn’t just Roxy’s major, but her way of expressing herself. So when she asked for your opinion on the photos she took of Bucky and Steve, you answered as honestly and diplomatically as possible. You selected the ones you thought captured the project’s essence in the best possible way. You also reminded her that you weren’t a photographer, so your word shouldn’t hold a lot of weight.

She disagreed.

“I still don’t get why you asked for help. I don’t have a keen eye the way you do and I can barely take a photo on my phone,” you said, having to look away from one of the images of Bucky that seemed to stare right at you.

Though it was just a picture, it was like he knew you downplayed yourself and was trying to figure out why. He loved reminding you on your off days that you were one of the brightest students on campus. The compliments usually sent a wave of heat through your body, especially because he stated them unprompted and meant every word.

Roxy playfully rolled her eyes. “You know you don’t have to be a photographer to have a good eye. I not only value your opinion as my roommate, but also as Bucky’s girlfriend. You even managed to stay impartial, so give yourself a pat on the back.”

A laugh bubbled up as you nodded in agreement. While you did stare more at Bucky’s photos than Steve’s, your heart racing with each one that Roxy laid out, you choose an even amount between the two. It was only fair.

“Thank you for asking. I’m glad I could help,” you said. It meant a lot that she wanted your opinion on the finalized product,

“Me, too. And I can’t believe you didn’t tell me to throw Steve’s photos in the garbage,” she joked, carefully looking over one of the images of him hitting a punching bag. “I’m impressed.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you. Besides, Steve’s just as photogenic as Bucky,” you pointed out as her eyebrows shot up. “Okay, almost as photogenic.”

Steve was admittedly one of the most gorgeous men on campus. The blonde haired, blue eyed Adonis with the kind yet almost reserved smile turned many heads. So did Bucky. Two men who looked like a couple of heartbreakers from a glance, but were far from it.

“The camera really does love them,” Roxy stated, chewing her bottom lip as she scanned the images again with a careful eye. After a moment, she smiled from ear-to-ear. “I am so getting an A.”

“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. And the fact that she had such a tough time choosing which images to share when she normally had no problem doing so showed just how many good ones she had at her disposal.

There was one shot of Bucky, however, that she had no problem removing from the film hanger and handing to you to keep for yourself.

He had his powerful thighs spread and wasn’t quite biting his lip, but there was something irresistibly sexy about the pose.

What were you thinking about, Titan?

“Not that I don’t love me some manspreading, because I do, that wasn’t exactly the look that I was going for,” she joked, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you smile so wide your cheeks ached. “What exactly did you say to get him to pose like that?”

“Me? I didn’t say anything,” you smiled, ignoring Roxy’s knowing look as you glanced through the rest of the photos once more. At least, you didn’t think you said anything.

She didn’t believe that for a second. “You act so innocent, yet weren’t you warming his cock when he-”

“Hey, weren’t there supposed to be some photos of Bucky and I together?” You casually cut her off as you pressed your thighs together, wishing your boyfriend was there at that moment.

When Bucky pulled you into his lap during the shoot, you tried to keep your hands to yourself. It didn’t stop the two of you from kissing when Roxy instructed you to. Not that you needed any additional prompting. Bucky had the most kissable lips you ever had the pleasure of feeling against your own.

Your roommate smirked a little. “Oh, I have those tucked away so I can give them to you together,” she said, nudging you toward the door when your phone went off. She must’ve spotted that “Titan” popped up on the screen. “Go. Thanks again. Make good choices. Don’t let him impregnate you, but let him give you all the orgasms you deserve. We’ll allow those.”

“You’re ridiculous in the best way,” you giggled, making sure you had your keys and the photo. While neither you nor Bucky were ready for a family, it didn’t embarrass you in the least that Roxy encouraged the physical side of your relationship with him.

“Don’t forget to show him that photo!”

“I won’t forget!” you promised, smiling as you left and read Bucky’s message.

“Waiting downstairs, Starshine.”

“Be right there,” you messaged back, a skip in your step as you went to greet him outside of your building.

You found yourself staring into the depth of Bucky’s steel eyes as he stood a few feet in front of the door. Tall, athletic, and somehow yours, he managed to stand out in his jeans and t-shirt. Or maybe he stood out to you because he was your guy.

“There she is,” he warmly smiled as you walked toward him.

Suddenly, you felt self-conscious about your casual outfit before you remembered there was no need. Bucky had seen you in the mornings without makeup and still called you beautiful. “Here I am,” you smiled.

He nodded toward your right hand. “What’s that?”

“One of the photos Roxy took. She has others to share with us later,” you answered, holding it up to show him. His eyes narrowed as he stared at it, but gave nothing else away to show if he liked it or not. “But she said I can keep this.”

He pushed a hand back through his hair before he tried to take it from your hand. “Burn it,” he ordered.

That wasn’t the reaction you expected and it made you giggle. “Burn it? I will do no such thing,” you said, moving backward as he advanced on you. “Why should I get rid of this?”

“Because it’s a terrible picture of me,” he huffed.

He’s adorable.

“Not to stroke your ego since you’re acting a little vain, but you’re extremely photogenic. I don’t think you can take a bad photo,” you told him, taking another step back. “I’m keeping this forever because it’s very alluring.”

“There are plenty of other photos you can keep,” he argued as you held the picture out of reach again. His nostrils flared and it took everything in you not to giggle again before he frowned. “Did you say I look alluring?”

Wait, does he really think he looks bad? He’s James Buchanan Barnes. A god among men.

“Bucky Barnes, my Titan, yes. You’re sexy and enticing and I never thought I’d see you worked up over a picture that isn't bad to begin with,” you teased, almost jumping when your back hit the building door. It gave him the perfect opportunity to box you in with his hands, a rush of heat going through your body as he brought his face close to yours. “Do you honestly think you look bad? Because you don’t. Not to me.”

He brought his hand over to cradle your cheek and leaned in until his forehead touched yours. “I just wanna look good for you,” he admitted in a small voice.

It was almost embarrassing how wide your eyes got, so used to his confidence that you forgot that he sometimes had off days, too. Your heart ached to see his self-assurance shake for even a moment and you wondered if it was how he felt when you spoke negatively about yourself. It put things in perspective when you thought of it like that.

“You do. You always look good. I’m more attracted to you every day. To your looks, your brain, and your heart. You’re incredible,” you assured him, in no hurry to move away from the door. “And just like you remind me of how incredible you think I am, I’ll do the same for you.”

“You think my brain is attractive?” He asked, his usual smile back on his face as you nodded. You knew that was how happy you looked when he chased any of your insecurities away. “I sounded crazy, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn't," you said, putting a hand over his. "You sounded human."

“Thank you for making me feel better,” he whispered, brushing his lips against yours as your heart pounded. “But I still think you should burn it.”

“Not a chance,” you smiled before his mouth covered yours.

Swept up in Bucky’s kiss, you both missed the fact that your TA was mere feet away, watching and wishing that it was him that you were kissing instead.

And if he has his way, you will.

Hmm. I wonder who the TA is. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[katiemccabeswife]

Daddy Issues

Biv Meadema x Teen!Reader || The Christmas break was ruined by your Dad's anger issues but Beth and Viv are there to pick up the pieces of your broken heart.

4.9k words (proud ✊🏼)

You were more than happy to be back in dreary London after the Christmas break, which was abnormal because you loved your home country and having Christmas with your family.

This Christmas had been a good one, after a couple years of cold and rainy summers, Australia had finally had a cracker of a summer and for the first time in years, the lead-up to Christmas actually felt like Christmas again.

You always loved getting to be home with your family and being able to go to the beach every day and this year was no different. Christmas day was wonderful, it started with a swim at the beach and was followed by a beautiful lunch filled with laughter and joy from friends and family.

Your relationship had always been a bit rocky. Sometimes you got on like a house fire, poking fun at your sister together and doing work around the house but other times you got on like cats and dogs. Your mum had always said that you two were too alike and that’s why you fought as much as you did. But it was also known within the four walls of your house that your Dad could be bipolar at times and had an explosive temper and should definitely be in some sort of program for his anger issues that seemed to come out of nowhere.

It was a few days after Christmas and only a few days were left before left to go back to London. You and your Dad were joking like usual and everything seemed fine, until it wasn’t.

You had some family friends over and you guys had just started a game of poker when your Dad asked you to go clean up the kitchen.

“Dad, we literally just started. I’ll do it after, don’t worry,” You weren’t facing him so you couldn’t see his unamused face and took his silence as a silent agreement.

Not even five minutes later he asked you again, “Alright. Now go do the dishes, Y/N,” He said sternly. You had an ongoing joke between the two of you where he would pretend to be stern about something and you would jokingly say ‘No’ right before getting up to go and do whatever he had asked of you. As you were still facing away from him and knew he could see you were still engaged in the game of poker, you assumed he was only joking.

“No,” You giggled slightly and so did the others around the table, “I’m almost out anyways, I’m running out of candy canes,” You joke as candy canes had been the substitution for money.

He only became more consistent with his asking and it was starting to piss you off. You weren’t very good at gambling and were trying to focus and his nagging was throwing you off.

Once you finally got out, first by the way, you were getting up to go and clean the kitchen when your Dad once again asked you to go and do exactly that, “What does it look like I’m doing?” You were fed up with his nagging and your voice portrayed that and the others around the table picked up on it.

“Someone’s mad they lose,” Your sister called out to you.

“Don’t be mad just because you lost!” Your cousin teased.

“Off you go to clean the kitchen,” One of your Dad's mates called out.

“Don’t be mad that you lost!” Your Dad called out which was the final straw for you.

“I’m not mad about losing, I’m pissed off because you’re sitting right behind me asking to clean the kitchen every 5 seconds when you can clearly see that I was in the middle of a game!” You can understand why your Mum says you and your Dad were so alike, but to be fair, he was extremely annoying with his constant nagging behind you.

After making your way inside and to the kitchen you began cleaning but were soon interrupted by your father storming into the kitchen pervaded with anger, "How fucking dare you?" You turned around and saw him making his way over to you.

You thought he was joking in the way you two had been for the past week you spent together, "What?" Your tone held an essence of humour to cover the genuine confusion.

"Get the fuck out!" Your father screamed at you.

"What!" You screamed in confusion as your entire body filled with dread and fear.

"After everything we've done for you! Get the fuck out!" You were trembling with fear when he stepped closer to you, held your arm with one hand and raised his other. You coward away from the large man you recognised as your father.

You ducked under his arm, picked up your keys and ran out of the house and towards your car. You got in and sat in silence for a moment before a wave of sadness washed over your body like a cold shower and you began to sob. You held your hands over your face and cried, you cried like you did when you were 7 years old and didn't finish your dinner because you were sick and your Dad yelled at you just like he had just now, like you did when you were 14 and stood up for your sister who was too scared to and your Dad's face was just as angry as it was a few minutes ago, just like you did when you were 16 and talked back to your Dad, fed up with his borderline misogynistic comments and you were almost as scared of him as you were right now.

You cried because you were scared your father was going to hit you. Your Dad always had a temper and exploded from time to time but never had he ever grabbed you and never had you genuinely believed he was going to hit you. Your hands were shaking and your chest hurt as you couldn't take in a full breath of air and your head was beginning to hurt from crying so hard. You were 19 years old and still crying over your Dad.

After 15 minutes of crying your heart out you started your car and went on a drive. You drove to the beach and took out the towel that was still in your car from your trip earlier that day and you walked towards the water. The waves had calmed and were no longer crashing into the shore with great force but softly rolled through the water and flattened against the sand with grace. You set down your towel and stripped from your clothes, thanking yourself for staying in your bikini all day and walked into the water.

You dove under the water and relished in the calmness and quietness you felt swimming. Once you'd swam out until you couldn't touch you moved to float on your back, closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You floated there numbly for at least 20 minutes before you got out and wrapped yourself in your towel. You sat in the sad, silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you watched the sun dip below the horizon. Once the light had been stripped from the sky you walked back to your car before the light of an ice cream shop caught your eyes.

You treated yourself to a double-scooped waffle cone and sat down outside the shop, looking over the beach you could barely make out. You knew how your Father would act if you went back home, he would ignore you, pretend you didn't exist and not talk to you until he felt better and after that time was up you would have to pretend nothing happened. You always did so because he was your father, your best friend at times and how could you not forgive him for screaming in your face?

You were grown now though and you weren't going to pretend this never happened and you decided that you weren't going to talk to him until he apologised. You knew that wasn't going to happen anytime soon so, you got out your phone and booked a flight back to London.

Once you had finished your ice cream it was well into the night and you had a flight to catch in 6 hours so you went back to pack your things.

You thought that everyone would have left by now and your family would be asleep but by the number of familiar cars littered through the street and the lights still on in your house, you knew that was not the case. You took a deep breath before walking into the house, keeping your head held high but not making eye contact with anyone. You walked straight past the living room ignoring the calls of your name and headed straight to your childhood room.

You were putting the few things that were spread around back into your suitcase when your Mum walked in, "Y/N, what happened honey?"

You tried to contain your tears as you turned to look at your Mum but as soon as you started speaking, the floodgates opened and you sobbed again, "I thought he was going to hit me," You said through the tears and your mother took you into her arms, securing your head with one hand, the other rubbing up and down your back to comfort you.

"I'm sorry, y/n/n, I'm sorry, but you know that you shouldn't push your father like that," You ripped yourself out of her hold and stared at her in betrayal, "You two are too similar, it's only a matter of time before joking become reality and laughing becomes crying. You know he has a temper, you need to be careful. I also think you should be the bigger person and apologise." She said. Whilst you didn't blame your mother for your father's actions a part of you despised how she always sat and watched you and your sister cry while he yelled at you two minutes after laughing with you.

You turned around silently zipped up your suitcase and walked to leave, "Where are you going, baby?"

You faced her with fresh tears born from anger, " I am leaving, I'm going back to London because I shouldn't have to 'be careful' around my own Dad. You know how fucked that is!? I shouldn't have to be the bigger person! He's a grown man, he needs to learn to regulate his fucking feelings and act like it!" You had never shouted at your Mum and you barely ever swore around her but you were tired of her picking your Dad's side over yours.

She tried to reach out to you but you brushed past her slightly and walked out the door. You should have been the bigger person and left silently but you heard your Dad laugh in the living so you left your suitcase at the door and walked to where your Dad sat. You walked straight up to him with a straight face, flung your middle finger into his direction and said, "Fuck you, you fucking pussy." You walked straight out the door and didn't hear a word from anyone in the house.

You spent the entire 24-hour trip back to London reflecting on the past day and what it meant for the future of the relationship with your parents. You knew your Mum just wanted to be the mediator and that your Dad was too stubborn to apologise. You also knew that you were going to stick to your word and not speak to your parents until they apologised. You also grieved the relationship with your father as you knew that it would never be the same ever again. It was one thing that he grabbed you and then he had to restrain himself from actually hitting you.

You grieved for the little girl who just wanted to please her father, who wished she was a boy because your Dad often talked about how much he wanted one. He was the reason you started football. Girls didn't really play it, it was seen as something only boys should be doing, so you cut your hair and signed up for the local club. He came to every game and cheered you on and after a good game he'd say to you, "Who needs a son when I've got you," It seemed like a nice statement but looking back on it, it really messed with you.

It was only when you moved out and overseas to play for Arsenal at 17 that you realised that your Dad really wasn't the best guy and an even worse Father. Albeit that you never said or did anything about it because you thought of all those kids whose Dad hit them or left them when they were young and reminded yourself that you were lucky.

But now, after 2 years of living by yourself and a therapy session here and there you realised that just because other kids had it worse didn't mean that what you went through was ok or that you didn't deserve to be treated the way you were.

When you landed and got your luggage it was 8 in the morning and you felt your phone buzzing in your hand. Beth was calling you and you weren't sure if you should answer but you knew she would worry if you didn't so you headed to the nearest bathroom and answered her Facetime, "Hey, Beffy," Your voice was a little hoarse from crying and you hoped Beth wouldn't pick up on how red your eyes were.

Beth smiled at you, "Hey chicky," She must have noticed that you were hiding in a bathroom, "What you doing?" She questioned.

"Umm," You hesitated, "I'm in the bathroom... In the airport," You said sheepishly.

Beth's smile dropped and her face took up a concerned look, "Why are you at the airport? Which one?"

You picked at your nails, anxious to tell her where you were and scared she would ask why, "London," You almost whispered.

"Oh," She looked really concerned now, "Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You shook your head quickly not wanting to be a nuisance, "It's alright thank you, I've ordered an Uber," You smiled slightly at the thoughtfulness of your friend.

"Well, why don't you come over for breakfast. I want to hear all about your holiday and I can even get Vivi to make the special waffles you like?" She was so hopeful you couldn't deny her offer and you really wanted Viv's special waffles.

"Yeah ok, I'll be there around 9? Is that alright?" Anxiety pulled at your chest at the thought of telling her and Viv about what happened with your Dad.

"Perfect, I'll see you soon, chicky!" You smiled and hung up the phone. You walked out of the cubicle and splashed water on your face to try and even out your breathing.

"Fucking idiot."

Thanking the Uber you rushed up the stairs towards Viv and Beht's place eager to fill your hungry stomach although once you'd got to the door you hesitated to knock. You checked your eyes in your phone camera and concluded that you could blame the slight redness and puffiness from sleeping and hayfever (it seemed you had hayfever all the time and the girls always made fun of your sneezes and even kept count, each time urging you to beat your 'high score').

You took a deep breath to release the hold anxiety seemed to have on your heart before knocking on the door. You instantly heard Myle and Rona barking and the sound and smiled, now excited to play with the puppies.

"Y/N/N! Oh, my little chicky," You were immediately wrapped in a hug from the girl and whilst reciprocating it you felt the urge to cry taking over you once again but you had cried enough for a long time and told yourself to suck it up.

"Hi, Beffy," Your voice was muffled from you pressing it into the crook of Beth's neck.

Beth waited for you to release the hug (she seemed to have a sense of when people needed a hug) and when you did she took your face between her hands, "How have you been, y/n/n?" She asked worriedly.

You smiled sadly at her, "I'm alright, thanks, how are you?"

Beth didn't seem convinced but knew you were aware you could talk to her at any time and if you weren't ready, she would wait, "I am even better now that you are here!" She exclaimed before taking your suitcase in one hand and your hand in her other and dragged you into the house, "Oh, Vivi! I've just gotten a very special delivery!" She turned back and winked at you but continued to lead you to the kitchen.

"Y/N/N!" Viv said with mock enthusiasm, trying to match Beth's with great difficulty with it being early in the morning.

You met her in the middle and gave her a hug, knowing she was joking and that she wasn't a morning person, "Hi, Vivi," You greeted.

Once you broke out of the hug you sheepishly looked to the waffle machine and back to Viv who caught on to your looks, "They'll be 'bout 2 minutes. I know two fluffy little girls who would love to see you," She egged on and you quickly went to find the puppies.

Once you spotted them you dropped to your knees and soon you had two dogs jumping on you and licking your face, "Hello Miss Rona and hello Miss Myle! How are we today my girls!" You spoke in a baby voice and continued to talk to the dogs as if they were such, oblivious to the conversation happening in the kitchen.

"Is she alright? She looks like she's been crying. And wasn't she supposed to come back in another 4 days?" Viv questioned.

Beth sighed and wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, "I don't know what's up but she definitely has been crying and I bet that would explain why she's back so early. When I called she looked like she'd only just stopped crying, I don't know what happened," She looked desperately at Viv. Beth and Viv were unofficially your step-in parents whilst you were in London or wherever you travelled with Arsenal. Beth was a second Mum to you and she took her role very seriously, always checking if you'd had a good sleep and what you had for dinner and if neither of you had plans she would always invite you over for dinner and a movie.

Viv was your unofficial 'Dad' as you'd claimed and would come over to your apartment to fix anything that needed to be done and give you piggyback rides when you were 'too tired' to walk, "Do you want to ask after breakfast? I don't want her to feel overwhelmed, maybe I'll take Myle and Rona for a walk and you could talk to her then?"

Beth nodded, "Yeah alright, I'll do that," She agreed with a sad face.

Viv noticed the look and hugged her again, "She'll be alright, she's with us now, yeah?"

"I just worry about her when she goes home. I miss her as well," She took a deep breath and put on a brave face when you walked in with Rona and Myle on her heels.

"Umm, I think the waffles are done?" You pointed to the waffle iron that was lightly smoking.

Viv rushed over and took out the waffles that were only slightly burned around the edges, "Crispy edges give them more flavour," she told you when she put them in front of you.

You looked up at her in amusement, "Of course, Vivi," You joked while adding your choice of toppings.

You, Beth and Viv conversed lightly over breakfast about your trip home and what you got up to whilst in Australia. You told them what you did with a smile on your face but they both noticed how it didn't stretch as far as usual and how you talked as if your parents hadn't been there at all albeit you staying in their house.

"Right, y/n/n you can go get yourself sorted in the spare room. You are staying tonight," Beth ordered jokingly to which you smiled and nodded in agreement, not really wanting to be alone for another night, "Vivi's gonna walk the puppies and I'll clean up." She clapped her hands and everyone spread off to their 'assignments'.

As Viv was a very clean cook Beth's cleaning was more or less tidying and she quickly joined you in the spare bedroom, "Hey chicken," She spoke softly when she walked in and noticed you staring at the wall looking crestfallen.

You smiled as brightly as you could, "Hi Beffy, sorry I got distracted. I'm a little bit jet-lagged," You waved off, "Do you need help cleaning the kitchen?"

Beth joined you on the bed, "It's all sorted don't worry sweetheart. How you feeling?" She questioned looking you deep in the eyes.

Her stare was so loving and concerned that it made that stupid feeling of crying come back, "I'm fine? You?" Your voice was slightly off as you had a lump in your throat but tried to play it off.

Beth sighed as she didn't want to press you but had to know what was going on with you, "Chick..." She spoke softly and you had to turn your head so she wouldn't see your eyes filling with tears.

She placed a hand on your shoulder and rubbed it gently and you couldn't hold it anymore, your hands came to cover your face and you brought your knees up to your chest and sobbed loudly.

"Oh, honey, no," Beth hated seeing anyone cry but you had a special place in her heart which hurt her even more. She moved your head to be on her shoulder and your legs to lay across her own. She rocked slightly and continued to rub your back. You were hysterical at this point, the comfort Beth was bringing you reminded you of your mother which reminded you of her taking your father's side which brought on another loud sob from deep in your chest.

Beth had to lift your head from her neck to make sure you could get enough oxygen and wouldn't pass out, "Honey, I know it's hard but I need you to take a deep breath for me please," She grabbed your water bottle from the nightstand and gave it to you and you clung to it like a lifeline.

You truly were trying to calm yourself but you couldn't stop crying and you couldn't get enough air to your lungs which was starting to hurt and you began to cough and gag. "Lovely, what's going on?" Beth was extremely concerned you were going to pass out.

After another minute of coughing and gagging you managed to get enough air into your lungs and nestled your head back into Beth's neck and she took your body back into her arms, "I thought he was going to hit me," You cried out as if the words caused you physical pain.

Beth was shell-shocked from the words that came out of your mouth but quickly recovered to comfort you. "Your dad?" She questioned as you had confided in her before about his temper.

You nodded and whimpered slightly as you had calmed down and were no longer audibly sobbing, "And mum," The thought of your mother made you sob again and it took you another minute to rein it back in all whilst Beth sat there patiently waiting for you to talk.

You managed a deep breath and Beth wiped your face free of tears although they were quickly replaced with new ones, "My dad got really angry and then he grabbed my arm and he had his fist up," You cried, "I thought he was going to hit me!" You sobbed.

Beth shook her head and cooed, "Did he?"

You shook your head and Beth relaxed slightly, "And then mum said- she said that I should know better than to push his buttons and that I needed to be careful and that I should apologise!" You weren't the only one who was angry now but Beth had to contain hers to continue to comfort you.

Beth shook her head, "That's not ok, y/n/n, it's not and I am so sorry you had to go through that and I'm glad that you told me, thank you for trusting me,"

You nodded sadly, "I love you Beffy," And you collapsed into her hold and cried silently as she rocked you.

"I love you too, chick, did you leave straight after that?" She questioned wanting to get a better idea of how quickly you left.

She felt you shake your head 'no', "I drove off to the beach and then got myself an ice cream and booked the flight. And once I got home, that's when mum said all that stuff but I'd already packed my bag so I went to leave but my dad was in the living room and he was laughing. I don't know what he was laughing at but it made me so angry so I went and called him a 'fucking pussy'," You both giggled slightly at it, you weren't known to swear and it always sounded weird coming from your mouth.

"I'm proud of you, sweets," Beth kissed the top of your head.

You nodded into her chest, "Thank you, for being here for me" You spoke quietly. Beth continued to rock you and had to look to the ceiling to stop herself from crying. She looked down when she heard quiet snoring coming from you and laid you down against the pillow and laughed quietly at you hugging your water bottle.

She had walked into the kitchen before she started crying. She didn't know how long she'd been standing there crying until two sets of paws jumped at her thighs and when she looked up she saw Viv's concerned face.

Viv dropped the leads on the kitchen counter and gently took hold of Beth's arms, "What's happened? Where's y/n?" She questioned quickly.

Beth sobbed quietly, "She- and her dad- oh and then her mum-," She couldn't get a full sentence out so after holding her in her arms to calm her down, Viv gave her a glass of water.

They had moved to the couch which was where Beth explained the whole story to Viv who was extremely concerned, "And she was crying so hard she was coughing and gagging. Vivi, I was so scared she'd pass out and oh her little face! I don't know how I kept it together!" She outraged quietly, acknowledging the fact that you were asleep down the hall.

Viv once again held Beth, just like she had you, "I can't believe it. I've met him and he seemed lovely. I mean I know they didn't always get along but I never thought it was that bad," She spoke in disbelief.

Beth nodded and was significantly more calm than she had been previously, "She's sleeping now. God, she must be exhausted. I feel so bad for her, my poor little chicken," Beth pouted at the thought of your sad face.

"I know, love, but she's here now, right? She is safe and she's sleeping, it'll be ok," Viv consoled.

"Yeah," Beth nodded dejectedly.

Once you woke up you checked your phone and realised you'd slept for 5 hours but it felt like you could sleep for an eternity. You didn't feel up to talking to the girls yet so you opened your phone and scrolled through Instagram for a while. Most of the Arsenal girls had posted photo dumps of the year and you smiled every time you saw yourself in one and when you saw the girl's comments. Beth and Viv's photo dumps warmed your heart. You appeared in almost all of the photos and laughed when you saw Katie's comment.

katie_mccabe11 might aswell adopt y/n/n now, hey?

You felt so loved and warmed that you decided to post your own.

yourusername

liked by stephcatley, lliawaelti and others

yourusername eternally grateful for my girls, i love you all ❤️ happy new year!

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kyracooneyx awe stop it you sap 🤭

alannakennedy love ya darls 🩷

leahwilliamsonn my favourite chick 🐥

bethmead_ love you chicken ❤️

Once you had plucked up the energy to head outside you were met with Viv and Beth tucked under a blanket with Netflix loaded on the screen in front of them and a variety of your favourite snacks on the table.

"Hey, y/n/n," Viv noticed you first and Beth quirked up at the sound of your name.

You were standing sheepishly in the hall with one of your pant legs pushed up to your knee, your hair a mess and your water bottle between your arms. Beth cooed at the sight of you, "Come over here chick," She moved over so you would sit between her and Viv.

"Any movie suggestions?" Viv asked teasingly, knowing which movie you would want to watch.

You smiled at her and leaned against Beth, "Grown Ups?" You offered and Viv snickered at the choice, it being your go-to movie.

"Of course," She put it on and whilst you could recite the entire movie off by heart you were still upset that you missed most of it but blamed Beth running her hands through your hair and Viv rubbing your lower legs for putting you to sleep, somewhere where you felt safe, warm and loved.