#now its just like......... aaaah

[lovelash]

😶🤭

[dailycladem]

026

[t-essell-remade]

i jusg realized that my phone anxiety has gotten bad again probably because i had a bad phone interview. its funny bcs before it i was like Yeah its not big deal and i wasnt rly nervous. and then i realized i didnt prepare enough and really fumbled. even directly after i was like Eh whatever. but then i was like Aw man. phone bad phone bad phone bad

[missadangel]

⊱AMOR MEUS AETERNUS⊰ I Masterlist

(Marcus Acacius x Ofc)

little preview is under the information!!

Summary:  You are an assistant to a costume designer on a busy movie set, where the pressure is high and the work is exhausting. One difficult evening during a lunar eclipse, you suddenly spot a man in a Roman military outfit materializing out of nowhere. At first, you think he’s just a drunk or a bit off his rocker. Unbeknownst to you, he is General Marcus Justus Acacius, who has time-traveled from 205 AD to 2025. authors note: It's a bit of a romantic-comedy-drama stuff because Marcus doesn't know that he traveled to 2025, LMAO poor baby (and you know I'm a hopeless romantic). I'll explain in more detail in chapters why he ended up here and what led him to meet the reader, but I'm avoiding spoilers. And the reader will help him get back to his time but accidentally travel to ancient Rome because of something; i can't talk more, lol. Wait for the episodes, please thank youuuu. if you wanna be tagged lemme know! every chapter will be its own warning and music theme Pairing: Marcus Acacius x Ofc!Reader (Her name is Rose and her hair is dyed) Rating: Explicit, 18+ MDNI, Smut Warnings: Harsh, cold, grumpy Marcus, and the reader is NOT innocent a little bitchy, Lucilla is mean, Lucius is a jerk(but falls in love with reader), its Septimius Severus' era but Geta and Caracalla are the prince of Rome, time travel, modern-ancient era travels, falling in love, slow burn, rough sex, smut, sex, oral sex (both f&m receiving), all sex, dirty talk, gladiators, battle, war, violence, blood, ancient time language, fluffy, injury, forced marriage, arranged marriage, sexism, haters to lovers, first love, angst, vestal virgins, vestal priestesses, age gap; reader is 25 Marcus is 45, reincarnation my masterlist

Little preview from chapter 1....

-------This wasn’t the first time you’d encountered someone like him. He had to be one of those extras, probably underpaid and known for causing trouble on set. He likely hadn’t bothered to change out of his costume and was relishing his small role in this odd setting.

“Look, man, I don’t want any trouble, but I really need you to take off that costume. I’m responsible for the outfits, and if anything happens to it, it’ll come out of my pay, okay? Didn’t anyone give you a heads-up about this?” You stepped closer, but he just froze like a statue, clearly sizing you up. 

Taking another look, you noticed the armor under his robe was totally different from anything you’d ever seen. Were they filming something new without you? That couldn’t be right—or worse, what if he’d swiped it? Great. You reached out for a closer look, but before you knew it, he grabbed your wrist, spun you around, and shoved you away like it was nothing.

“Aaaah!” You winced, clutching your sore wrist, glaring at him in frustration. “Are you out of your mind? Get those clothes off right now! Can’t you hear me? Are you deaf or what?” 

The guy sighed as he wiped his sword with the hem of his robe and sheathed it as if he were doing it every day. He did it with such flair that even a top-notch actor would be impressed.  

“I see you’ve been really getting into character. Nice job!” you quipped with a hint of sarcasm. “But like I said, I need to grab the costume. So, come on, take it off.”  

"What kind of shameless woman are you to demand that I undress?"

What the hell was that? The accent, thick and unfamiliar, rolled off his tongue in a way you had never encountered before. It felt like a whisper from another age, as if echoes of ancient times were woven into each word he spoke.--------

ao3 link

I. Sol Invictus

II. Tensio

III. Amor Primus

IV. Matrimonium

V. Confessio

VI. coming soon

[interruptedtrance]

Beach sex (franco x reader x oscar)

Smut; 18+

word count: 1.1k

Contains: franco and reader being in an established relationship, nicknames (amor), bj (oscar receiving), female anatomy, dom oscar, dom franco, mostly free use, swallowing

masterlist

“I wanna learn spanish just to understand your interviews cause apparently you’re really funny” oscars stated making franco awkwardly laugh and blush a bit.

after the interview franco made sure to catch oscar while he is alone, “you know, you could join my partner and i later on the beach, just so you can see how fun i can be”, making the australians eyes widen in return.

“sure” he tried playing it off nonchalantly even though on the inside his nerves were killing him.

“i’ll see you later oscar” franco spoke while slowly turning away and making his way back to the alpine garage where his partner is waiting for him.

oscars thoughts running wild, what if he makes a fool of himself, what if he says something wrong and makes franco hate him, he takes a deep breath, and mumbles to himself “i’ve said i’ll be there, so i have to show up”. feeling a bit calmer he continues to his next duties.

“hey amor” franco quickly strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, making you automatically wrap around his neck.

“what, why are you grinning like that?” you smile back at him.

he leans in closer to you, your foreheads meeting, “oscar will join us late” he admits. making your smile widen, moving your head away from him, “i swear, i’ve asked him and he said he will be there”

kissing his lips, you mumble a thanks to him, “i didn’t expect him to agree, like ever”

“i used some of my argentinian charm”

“franco colapinto, you are a flirt”

“Aaaah, i’m not”

time skip

“do you think he will show up?” you question franco after glancing at your phone seeing he is running late.

“it’s not like him to no-show” franco comforts you, by running his hand across your arm.

“i mean, we can start without him, and he can join in when he comes” franco softly whispers, gently nipping your earlobe, making you shudder in return.

turning your head to him, you tenderly connect your lips, franco now grabbing your hips and lifting you on to his lap like you weigh nothing. you hear someone clearing your throat behind you, already thinking you were caught, you sheepishly turn around to face the person.

meeting oscars gaze, “i see you have already started without me”, he laughs.

a whimper making its way past your lips, “you made me think we got caught” franco squeezed your ass, making your attention return to him, “what?”

“come oscar sit down with us” franco invites, you make your way off his lap to sit in the middle. without any hesitation oscar sits down next to you, you delicately trace your hand up to his tight. carefully making your way on your hands and knees so you are eye level with the australian.

softly you move your hand further up his thigh, now your palm is resting over his clothed cock, where with each second you feel him getting harder and harder. “can i?” you hint, making oscar nod in return, lightly you shift your weight back to both of your arms and lower yourself from your palms to your elbows so you can, delicately unzip his pants, and take his cock out.

oscars eyes watching what your hands are doing, like he is in a trance. softly you bring your lips to his tip, and give it a quick peck pulling away all at once, you whine to franco, “can you please join?” you say pouting a bit.

making franco move from his spot, where he had front row tickets to his amor sucking off another man. “oscar you can be a bit rougher with me, here hold my hair” you said, bringing his hand to your hair so he can hold it in a makeshift ponytail. gently you move your lips back to his cock, once you feel franco behind you.

while you are trying to be good for oscar, and keep your rhythm, francos teasing it getting to you. carefully you pull your lips off, making oscar groan in the process, and you moan from the pleasure franco is giving you by teasing your clit through the fabric of your shorts.

“franco please” you whimper, reaching your limit, without hesitation he pulls down your clothing, and teasingly runs his cock through your wet folds.

you feel oscars grip tighten on your hair, pulling your head back to his cock, “did i tell you to stop?”, without answering you wrap your lips back around his member, taking his full length into your mouth. with a swift pace you bob your head up and down his shaft, making sure you pay close attention to the slit at the back of his head, gently caressing it with your tongue.

while you are focused on pleasuring oscar you almost completely forgot about franco behind you, who was prepping you to take all of him. suddenly you feel your boyfriend bottoming out in you, making you moan around the australian, your eyes watering a bit.

the pleasure hitting you all at once, oscar pulling your hair, making your head bob up and down, franco thrusting at an ungodly pace and circling your clit. with both of the men using you however they like, you reach your high quickly, you squeeze oscars thighs letting him know you are close.

“awww, are you close, i don’t know if you can cum, why don’t we ask franco”

“you can cum, when we finish” francos words making you whine around oscars member, “you should be happy i’m close amor”

“fuck-, so am i” oscar groans out, now laying down, he is holding your head in place and thrusting up in your mouth. oscar groans, before releasing his cum in your mouth. you open it to show him that you have swallowed all of his cum.

“cum with me amor” with those words you feel franco release in you, making your release wash over you, the waves of pleasure running through your body making you moan out. carefully, once your orgasm has washed over you, franco pulls out, swiftly, pulling your shorts back over you.

you lay your head in oscars lap for a moment while you catch your breath, franco now softly running his hand across your thighs, the two guys talking amongst each other.

“oscar you did pick a beautiful spot on one of the australian beaches, but my amor is way prettier"

“shut up franco” you whine in protest.

“what it's true” he argues back.

“you know, i have to agree with franco” oscars statement makes your cheeks heat up.

you speak while standing up, and looking between the two men “can we please go back to the hotel so i can rinse off the sand that has gotten everywhere? i mean both of you are invited to join me”

[lovelysmutswriter]

Special Gym Exercise Pt. 1

This isn’t your average fitness center—it’s a private, ultra-exclusive gym reserved for the wealthy elite. Lavish interiors, state-of-the-art equipment, and a serene atmosphere define this hidden haven. But hey, life isn’t so bad when a generous rich friend slips you a guest pass to this luxury workout paradise. Most of the time, this exclusive gym feels like your own private gym, silent, spotless, and completely empty. But one day, you walked in and someone had already beaten you to it. Just one person: a girl in a white gym top and black leggings with a nice ass, quietly focused in the corner. You both mind your own workouts inside, at least for some time. You have done Barbell Squats, Kettlebell Swing, Romanian Deadlifts and Curtsy Lunge. Now it's a turn for some Hip Thrusts. While doing Hip Thrusts, you saw how amazed she was. She went for some Back Squat workout. But... While doing Back Squat her ass faces in your direction where you can clearly see the form. Big and juicy, must be tasty. Doing Back Squat with almost no weight, yet she is making lewd sound. "AAAAH, OOOOH, YES AAAH" - almost like she was seducing you. She got your attention, and you lost focus by looking at her ass. She knew she got your attention and looked at you with a lewd face and continued with the lewd screams. Now moving towards you. "Hey you like what you see?" with a teasing voice

"Uhm yeah its beautiful, but I'm so sorry if this made your uncomfortable" You stuttered "I'm just joking, you can keep looking." - She winked and continued and then asked "Whats your name?"

You introduced yourself and she introduced herself. "I'm Imane Anys, you come here often?" "Only lately, how about you?" - You two asked questions back and forth. "I workout here from time to time, so what do you do? Here is quite an exclusive gym, usually only rich people can access it, I'm a streamer myself alias Pokimane but you can call me Poki if you like." "Oh, I'm just a student at the moment, I got this card from my rich friend" "Well anyways, you look strong, maybe you can help out with my workout?" - Poki indicates something you couldn't imagine. "Yeah yeah sure sure, how can I help?" She leads you to a workout bench, where you sit down and her kneeling down. Baffled and confused as you are, but follows her lead. She pulls off your pants "Wow you're big and this is not even hard yet" - Amazed Poki as she has a little sniff of a strong mans cock. She continued saying you better show how strong you are. Indeed you have to show her what you are capable of, you grabbed her white top and ripped it off, this should show enough how strong you are. "Oh fuck yes you are strong, now I will explain my rules of workout, ok?" You nodding as she explains more detail. "We are gonna do different workout positions and usually it in sets and reps, so this position will have 5 sets with 10 reps" "GURP ONE...GURP TOWWOOWOO...GURP THWEEE....GAWK GAWK FFFFOORR...G....GAWK FIIII....." - Poki deepthroated the whole cock while you were grabbing both her tits and played with them until the sets was done. The first workout positions done, she was panting heavily "Wow this was amazing...and now into another position" - She stood up with excitement and wiggled her ass in front of you. "You know what to do" - Wiggle wiggle wiggle You ripped off into some holes of her tight black leggings, enough for her asshole and pussy to be used for the next workout position. You are still sitting down as she takes your cock and leads into her pussy. Down up down up down up. This workout position has 10 sets 10 reps. Down up down up down up. Luckily there is still no one in the gym, her moans and screams are so loud from the pleasure. Last two sets you showed her what real workouts are for, you were thrusting upwards while she was moving down. "FUCK YES AAAAH YOU ARE USING MY HOLE CORRECTLY YESS FUCK" - Screaming from pleasure while her pussy juices are dripping. Workout position 3 - She stands up and leans on the workout bench, a standing doggy position. 10 sets and 10 reps per set. You grabbed her thick hips and pounded at a fast pace, firm and rough. You realize because it's 10 per set, you last so much longer. For hours you two workout in many different fun positions. But you two understand this has to an end soon, now last workout position, Pokimane's favorite and this doesn't have any set or reps, just pure workout. She leads you to a yoga mat on the floor, and in front a mirror. Her face is down and her juice ass is up, her hands pointing to her asshole and saying. - "Rough, fast, no mercy, no pauses, and cum inside" You inserted into her tight asshole and as she wished. Her moans and her face showed in the mirror reflection, eye rolled up and lip biting, she is totally lost in euphoria state. After non stop of pounding her asshole you are finally going to burst "NNNNGGGGH TAKE IT!!!" . You are such a good sport listen to what she says. ROUGH, FAST, NO MERCY, NO PAUSES and CUM INSIDE, indeed. Both of you are exhausted from the workouts, sweaty but happy. "Hey, lets "workout" together every friday here from now on" - Poki said with a lewd seducing way. Well you can't say no to free pussy and ass.

[xillpregnant]

Deliverance Park

World count: 1K

Synopsis: Emma and Sarah have been inseparable since childhood, sharing joys, heartbreaks, and now the most life-changing moment of all: the birth of Emma’s twins. But when labor begins, Emma refuses to stay confined indoors. Driven by instinct, she decides to give birth outside, beneath the night sky in a nearby park.

This is a work of fiction and does not aim to be entirely realistic. Anyways I hope you enjoy it!

-------------------------------------------------

Emma and Sarah had been inseparable since childhood. They had shared laughter, sleepless nights, and heartbreaks, and now they shared the small apartment where they lived together. Sarah had been the first to know about Emma’s pregnancy and, ever since, had been by her side for every ultrasound, every late-night craving, and every fear. Emma couldn’t imagine anyone else with her for this moment—the birth of her children.

When contractions started around 11 p.m., Emma was already used to the discomfort of the past few weeks, but this felt different. A deep pull in her lower belly made her stop in her tracks in the middle of the living room. A second later, a shiver ran down her spine as she felt an internal snap, followed by a warm gush of liquid trickling down her thighs.

"Sarah… " she gasped, eyes wide.

Sarah looked up from her book, immediately alert as she saw the growing puddle beneath her friend.

"Emma, your water… I’ll get everything ready for the birth, just like we planned. " Sarah stood up right away, moving toward her.

Emma shook her head urgently, breathing heavily. "No, I don’t want to be trapped between four walls. It suffocates me. I need to move, I need fresh air. Let’s go to the park."

Sarah hesitated for a moment, but she knew Emma well enough to understand she wouldn’t change her mind. Without wasting any more time, she grabbed blankets, towels, and everything they would need, then helped Emma out of the apartment.

However, halfway there, Emma had to stop, doubling over with a strangled moan.

"Ahh… OH GOD! " She clung to Sarah’s arm as her belly tightened like a rock.

"Breathe, Emma. You’re doing great. "Sarah held her firmly " I’ve got you."

Every few steps, Emma had to stop again, bending forward as the pain took over. Her body trembled with each wave of pressure. Sarah worried about how far along she was. She wasn’t a doctor, but she had done her research. During one of the pauses, she helped Emma lean against a streetlight and, without hesitation, lifted the hem of her dress, pulled aside the damp fabric of her underwear, and carefully slipped her fingers in to check. The moment she felt something firm and round pushing downward, her eyes widened.

"Emma… " Sarah swallowed hard "You’re almost fully dilated… I can feel the head. "

Emma gasped, her legs shaking.

"Sarah, I can’t… I need to push!"

"Not here. We’re almost there, just hold on a little longer."

With great effort, Emma managed the last few steps to the park. Sarah found a secluded spot under a large tree with an old swing and spread the blankets on the ground. But Emma didn’t lie down. Her body demanded movement. She clung to the tree trunk, her nails digging into the rough bark as a brutal contraction tore through her.

"AAAAH! "she roared, feeling an intense, burning stretch. The contractions slammed into her with overwhelming force. Emma could feel her skin stretching to its limit as the baby’s head began to crown. With each push, the burning sensation intensified, the pressure unrelenting.

"You’re doing amazing. I can see the head! "Sarah’s voice was full of awe and excitement as she positioned her hands, ready to catch the baby.

Emma sobbed, her body opening even more.

"It burns! Oh God, I can’t!"

"Just a little more. One more push."

With a final, desperate effort, Emma screamed, feeling the wet snap as the baby slipped free. Sarah caught the newborn with steady hands, quickly wrapping him in a blanket.

"It’s a beautiful baby boy!"

Emma, trembling and breathless, collapsed to her knees. Tears of relief streamed down her face as she reached for her son. But then—her relief vanished. Her belly was still tight. The pressure hadn’t faded.

"Sarah! " Her voice trembled, eyes wide with panic "The another one!"

Sarah’s face turned alarmed as she looked at her still-rounded stomach. Emma was utterly exhausted, but the second baby still needed to be born. Yet the contractions had weakened. Emma, desperate, started pushing without waiting for another wave of pressure, but all she did was tire herself further.

"Come on, come out! " she cried, tears streaming down her face.

"Emma, not like this. Pushing without contractions won’t help. " Sarah tried to calm her, but Emma was frantic.

Then Sarah remembered what she had read about stimulation. Without hesitation, she first helped Emma change position, having her sit on the swing that hung from the tree. She unbuttoned the top of Emma’s dress and began massaging her nipples, rolling and pinching them gently. At the same time, she pressed key points between Emma’s legs, applying firm pressure. Emma gasped, clutching the swing’s chains, her body slowly responding.

Suddenly, another internal snap made her jolt. A second gush of warm liquid soaked her thighs and the blanket beneath her.

"Ahhh! It’s coming! " Emma screamed. Her body tensed again as the second baby’s head started to emerge, this time with greater difficulty.

"Come on, Emma. Just a little more… " Sarah encouraged her, hands ready.

"It’s tearing me apart! " Emma roared, gripping the swing’s chains tightly. She felt like she was splitting in two.

Sarah watched as Emma’s skin stretched to the max, carefully supporting the baby’s head as it slowly crowned.

"Take it slow. Push when you feel ready. " Sarah whispered, guiding her.

Emma took a deep breath, and with the next push, the head was fully out. Sarah held the baby carefully, waiting for the next surge. The shoulders were the hardest part, but with one final, agonizing cry, the baby slipped free into Sarah’s hands.

The newborn took a deep breath, then let out a loud cry. Sarah laughed through her tears, placing the baby against Emma’s chest.

"You did it… " she whispered, pressing a proud kiss to her forehead.

Emma, exhausted but overwhelmed with joy, held both of her babies close, her chest rising and falling with ragged breaths. It had been the most intense moment of her life—but also the most beautiful. She looked at Sarah, her eyes shining with tears, and smiled weakly.

"Thank you… for being here with me."

Sarah hugged her gently, whispering into her ear:

"I’ll always be here. You’re my best friend."

The End.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

Hi, my mind can't stop with the idea of mommy Wanda trying to get reader of the bed to start doing their daily tasks. Its a torturing cold morning, reader pretends they are still sleeping, Wanda in a rush to get things done, she tries like three times saying to Reader get up but she loses her patience with this silly brat attitude. She sits in the bed trying to pull blanket off R but ofc the freezing air hits R's skin. Reader make a brat noise and throw a pillow but not thinking Wanda was too close it hits her face. No escape from now, she just says "you are being very agressive with me, sweetheart." R know it didn't hurt her but it is the end of this playing.

At the end, reader won't leave the warm bed after all, but not because they wanted, but bc Wanda would make sure to ruin reader until not being able to do that.

🫠🫠🫠 please can you use your writing super power skills to write it better? 😭😭 plsss pretty plsss I need more of this thoughts 🙏

(Gif that is not mine but I can't stop thinking😭😭)

omg mean Mommy Wanda overstimulating you because you wanted to act all tough with her... she absolutely would do this!!!

"Sweetheart, its time to get up," Wanda says, her low voice washing over you.

You can hear her moving around the room, and bury your head further under the thick comforter you'd wrapped around yourself. The tip of your nose is cold, the chilly air moving against the exposed skin of your cheeks. The bed was so... fucking... warm...

"I know you heard me, I want you out of this bed by the time I'm done with my makeup."

"Mmmphhh," you manage, feeling drowsiness take over your mind. A tendril of excitement appeared, and you bit your lip to hide a small smile as a plan started to form.

It was perfect. Wanda had been edging you for a few days now, and you were sure that she'd lose her patience to edge you if you were a brat. If you played your cards right, you were sure that you could get her to make you orgasm by the end of the day, and put a stop to the endless torture that was edging.

"What did I say," Wanda mumbles, having emerged from the bathroom. You barely hear her, your heart thumping in excitement. Then, it starts beating entirely too fast as Wanda rips the blanket away from you, exposing your heated skin to the frigid air of the room.

"No, aaaah fucking- goddamn it," you say, a few more curse words emerging as you fling your pillow in the direction of Wanda. It hits her square in the head, and you feel your eyes widen when she pins you with a look.

"You are being very aggressive with me, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry I-"

"No," Wanda says, her tone hard. "You wanted to stay in bed? Fine, but you're not leaving until I think you've learned your lesson. Understand?"

You don't understand, but nod anyways. It can't be that bad, right?

---

Wanda smirks down at you, your eyes glazed and unfocused. You can hear her start the shower, a mix of lube and cum dripping down your inner thighs. Her scarlet dildo and favorite vibrator are placed next to you on the bed, smelling like you as you tremble from the aftershocks of your multiple orgasms.

You can't even remember how many it was, your brain fuzzy and limbs limp as Wanda begins murmuring into your ear while she helps you towards the shower.

"Is that what you wanted? You wanted Mommy to fuck you until you're all braindead for me? I hope you enjoyed the orgasms, sweetheart, because you won't be cumming for a long time. I hope it was worth it."

[taintandviolent]

Like Right Now? ; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Part 2 of this fic! Peter waited as long as he could - which wasn't very long. He wants round 2 and you do too. Like.... right now.

word count: 3.3K words!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, couch sex, sex while parent is in the same vicinity dry humping, kissing, neck kissing.

a/n: not beta-read. by popular request... aaaah I'm still as nervous as I was posting the first part of this! anyway, I hope it's good and satisfies the peter craving! as always, sorry for any clunky weirdo writing!!!

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

With a contented sigh, you opened the door to the house you shared with your mother. Even though you were technically an adult now, you had decided to stay with her, helping her around the house. A child of divorce, you’d always been a little overprotective of her, and couldn’t imagine her alone. 

“Did you have a good skate, honey?” Your mother asked, watching from the living room as you hung your skates on the hook by the door. With your thumb, you furiously rubbed off a scuff mark off the shiny surface and nodded. Boy, did you. Best skate you’d ever had. Using your heels to slip your sneakers off, and kicking them towards the rest of the shoes, you laughed. “Yeah, I went real fast tonight and–” 

The phone interrupted your next words, ringing shrilly. You practically stumbled towards it, reaching out for it like a parched man reaches for water. Your insides wound themselves in knots, just knowing that it was Peter on the other end. 

“H-hello?” 

“Hey cutie.” He’d waited. As long as he could without losin’ his ever loving mind. Which, he wondered if he already had, considering how bad he was aching to hear your voice again. Maybe he’d already lost it. 

“Hi,” you hummed, turning away from your mother. You brought your tone lower, hushed. 

“Did you just get home?” 

“Yeah, Peter, I did.” 

“Dang, slow poke. I’ve been home for a while.” 

“Okay, well,” you laughed. “That’s not fair.”

“When do we get to uh… hang out again? Huh? I’m already jonesin’ to see you again. With or without skates.” Peter adjusted the phone against his ear, waiting. 

You peeked around the corner. Your mother was busy with her program, no longer paying attention to your conversation, likely assuming that it was just one of your girlfriends. How wrong she was… 

“Hang out? Is that what we did?” 

“Yea’, er… somethin’ like that.” 

“Whenever you want.” 

“Aw, man, don’t say that…” 

“Why not?” You ducked around the corner and plopped down on the third step of the staircase, winding the cord around your fingers. You knew why. You heard the way that Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, even through the phone. 

“Like… now?” 

“...Right now?” You asked back, almost in a teasing tone. “Like right now?”

“Yeah!” His tone was bright and excited, and it sounded like he was already out of breath.

“My house?” The suggestion was brave, but you knew your mom would be going to sleep within the half-hour. If you stayed quiet, she wouldn’t hear you over her bedroom TV. 

“Yeah! I mean…” He cleared his throat, trying to act casual. Way more casualness was needed - he was acting super lame and way too into you. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t risk it. “Sure. If you want.” 

You began whispering your address, your eyes flitting to the living room. Your mother rose from the chair and went to the kitchen, none the wiser. You continued, knowing Peter had already committed it to memory. Your mother leaned down to cup your face as she went up the stairs and mouthed goodnight, and you covered the receiver with your hand.

“Night, mom. Love you.” 

“Be there in a flash.” You heard him say. 

You wanted to tell him to wait, but the line was already dead. As you moved, your hands shook and fumbled the receiver, dropping it once before getting it back on its cradle. Your mother had hardly gotten up the steps, and he’d be there any second, if he wasn’t already. You heard the door click shut and heaved a sigh of relief. 

“Mom?” You said, testingly. She didn’t respond, so you launched your body up the carpeted stairs, running up them like a four-legged animal. Her door was shut, nothing but the dull glow of her bedside table seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. You raced back down the stairs, your socks padding quietly down them, despite the speed.

Your bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen. You’d never been gladder to be on the bottom floor. You crept into your room, edging the door shut until the latch clicked into place and as it did, paused to laugh at yourself; you were doing everything so sneakily, as though you were a child acting out. You were a grown woman, albeit still in your mom’s house, but the point remained. Pushing aside the curtains, you carefully maneuvered the window up. It was a warm summer evening, there was no reason why you wouldn't open your window - perfectly normal, if your mother heard it. You stuck your head out. No Peter. Surely, he’d have been here by now. You breathed, looking at the base of the tree outside your window. A squirrel skittered up into the branches. Just as you were about to pull your head back inside, Peter’s head comically poked out from the corner of the house. He had clearly been standing by the front door, which horrified you.

“Took so long, I was about to knock – .”

You shushed him, and whispered harshly for him to get inside. He stuck one leg in, climbing in carefully �� the last thing he needed was to be a total klutz and eat it on your bedroom floor.

“You’re crazy, you know that? The front door!?” 

“Cool your jets, babe. You didn’t tell me which window was yours. Where’s your mom?” 

“Upstairs, hopefully sleeping.” 

“Good,” he murmured into your lips, suddenly in front of you. He’d caught you off guard with his speed, but like everything he’d done from the moment he’d complimented your skates, he was so frustratingly cute. The kiss was warm and soft, you were in no position to resist it. He kissed you back towards the bed, his hands cupping your breasts, thumb tweaking your nipples over your shirt. Which reminded you… you were still in your skating clothes. There was far too much fabric in between his thumb and your nipple. 

“Lemme’,” you murmured sloppily into his lips, before finally pulling back. “Lemme’ change first, okay? It’ll look less suspicious. Who needs to cool their jets, huh?” 

“Sorry, sorry.” Hands up, Peter took a step back, watching you as you sauntered off towards your small closet. Your hips swayed back and forth to a song that wasn’t playing. Probably something you’d heard at the skating rink. You could admit it, you were putting on a bit of a show in hopes of arousing him. 

Still though, you hurried, sliding the doors open and pulling your shirt over your head. You reached around and undid your bra, glancing back at him cheekily. Woah, jackpot… he thought, hoping, that at that point, he wasn’t drooling like a cartoon dog. He was watching you intently, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Neck turned, you held his gaze, daring him to look as you slid your shorts and panties down over the curve of your ass. He looked, but it was so fast of a peek that it was impossible for you to notice. Now finished with your impromptu strip tease, you pulled a sleeping shirt from the shelf and threw it on, spinning on your heels to face him. 

Clad in nothing but the oversized t-shirt, you marched back to Peter, who had taken a seat on the edge of your bed. You climbed behind him, sliding your hands up the round muscle of his shoulders. On your knees, you were just taller than him and decided to take advantage of that by kissing his neck, slowly. You nipped here and there, suckling in other places while your hands explored the front of his shirt, ghosting over the faded print. 

Peter started sweating, and the stiffness between his legs got worse. Much worse. There was no hiding it, or ignoring it and he could’ve sworn that he heard you giggle behind him. His expression was a melange of pain and pleasure, and as your hands neared his crotch, he couldn’t really tolerate much more of your tender kissing… 

“Babe,” In a blur of motion, your back was pressed against your mattress, and he was back to tweaking your nipples again, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The action made you squirm. “Your foreplay is bitchin’, but you’re driving me crazy. Loco. I feel like I’m gonna’ bust.”

“Okay, so now what?” 

“Now what?” He repeated, almost mockingly. “It’s my turn.”  

His hand trailed down from your breasts over the curve of your stomach to the soft mound between your legs. You felt a buzzing directly on the sensitive bundle of nerves and looked down, equal parts confused and aroused. It was his hand, and not a vibrator, but instead of seeing his fingers move back and forth, you saw a flesh-coloured blur. Everything you’d learned about fingering… in the span of a few hours, he’d completely shattered. So, he could finger-fuck you at super-speed, and he could literally vibrate your clit. Of course he could. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned, an intoxicating lilt to your words. Peter groaned, and ground his hips against the side of your thigh. His finger dipped down, collecting some of your warm, slithery wetness and pulling it back up, smearing it around your folds.

You clapped your hand over your mouth, legs quivering. The pad of his middle finger continued tapping your clit and you felt the very rapid climb of your orgasm. Without warning from him, Peter’s hand drifted away from your pussy, his slick fingers gripping your thigh. “Babe, I’m thirsty.” 

“Wh-what?” Breathless and sweaty, you quirked a brow at him.

“You got a soda or something?” 

“Uh, yeah, in the kitchen. Y-you’re really thirsty right now?” 

Before you could protest, you stood in the kitchen. He had opened the fridge, popped the tab on a can of Coke, guzzled it, and tossed it into the bin. You blinked. “What… Peter…!” You sniggered, covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your own voice. Your mother’s bedroom was right above the living room, and the last thing you wanted was her to wake. 

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t wait any longer. He’d gotten you downstairs, and now it was time to up the ante. Wrapping his arms around you, Peter zipped to the couch, and could’ve fucked your wet little cunt right there on the sofa. In the span of a few seconds, Peter could’ve drilled his aching cock inside of you, just long enough for you to feel it, just long enough for him to bust inside you and just long enough to make you quiver. Instead, he hovered over you, looking deep into your eyes, chest heaving. 

“What’re you so nervous for, babe? You know that the second I hear footsteps, we’d be back in your room.” 

“Peter, we can’t… my mom is right above us, dude!” 

“You’re no fun, c’mon.” He craned his neck down, pressing a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone. “C’mon, babe.”

You whimpered, rolling your lips inward and your eyes upward. For being such a top tier goof ball, he was unnervingly good at making you feel like your entire body was on fire. That electric current that you felt at the roller rink was back, buzzing through you at a high voltage.

“Peter…” you begged, hoping he’d change his mind because the reality was that he’d get his way if he didn’t. You were too turned on and too into him to say no. 

“C’moooon.” Another kiss. Internally, he was ripping stuffing. His confidence was outrageous, where did he get the balls? He wished you were holdin’ his – no. Stop right there. You ran your tongue along your teeth, and Peter watched the wet muscle as it swept across the enamel, glistening. 

“You promise?”  you asked. 

He nodded, too eagerly, his silver hair flopping with the motion. “Scout’s honour, or whatever. She won’t know a thing.” 

With a little huff, you spread your legs, allowing him in. Peter wasted no time in letting that wet, aching monster free, immediately pulling his gray boxers down over his balls. You pressed your hips into the couch cushions, backing away from the heat that met your groin and Peter followed them, pressing his hips right back into you. He groaned breathily, rutting his hips. You were soft and warm underneath him, and felt so soo good. The shaft of his cock met your wet folds, and he immediately found a rhythm, humping you in long, steady thrusts that had you curling your toes. Every time the velvet plush head of his cock bumped into your swollen clit, you whimpered. Ecstasy deluded your senses, eyes rolling back in your head.  

“Peter, oh my god…!” His hand clamped over your mouth, his dark eyes widening in a warning. 

“Shhhhhhh –” 

You nodded underneath his grip, remembering the threat of the situation. Peter kept his hand on your mouth, pressing tightly against your soft lips. He reached down, taking hold of his cock and pumped it in and out of his own fist a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“Ready?” 

With lusty, half-lidded eyes, you nodded. 

Peter pushed his leaking tip inside of you, then with a shaky breath, sunk the rest of the way in. The sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock was indescribable; hot, tight pleasure coursed through your body in waves as Peter found his rhythm. Fast. Fast rhythm. He fucked like a teenage boy, and you liked that – his bunny humps were deep and intentional, like the crimson head was trying to find the deepest point inside of you. Peter pressed his lightning-bolt patterned socks against the armrest of the couch, using it as leverage to push himself inside of you.

His cock made slick by your arousal, his hips moved against yours rapidly, hammering your cunt in a way that you physically thought impossible. In the darkness, you saw Peter smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual below him. Your tits bouncing underneath the shirt with each thrust, your eyes wide and lust-blown. His gaze dropped to them, watching, entranced. With your free hand, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up to your collarbone and letting your breasts fall free. 

“Oh fuck,” he whispered. 

Skates fast. Fucks fast. Cums fast. You thought, watching as his face contorted, his eyebrows knitting together, jaw dropping. His breaths came out in hurried little huffs as he pumped inside of you, filling your cunt with sticky, white heat. 

“Honey?” 

He froze. You froze. Stiffly, you turned your head towards the staircase, looking up into the darkness, petrified. 

“YEAH! YEah, mom, just… getting a drink!” You tried to keep your voice level, but there was something so inherently naughty about having a guy on top of you, his dick inside of you while you spoke to your mother. Your stomach was tight, muscles burning with the contraction. 

“Oh, okay! I thought I heard - I don’t know. I love you!”

“I love you too! Goodnight!”

Once the door clicked shut, and your head snapped back in Peter’s direction, who was still panting on top of you. Slapping his pectoral muscle hard, you mouthed go go go go! Naturally, before you’d finished the last ‘go’, Peter had pulled out and you were back in the safety of your bedroom before a drop of cum had time to leak from your swollen cunt. Back on your bed, your hair splayed out on the satin pillowcases. Peter was at your side, drawing circles on the exposed flesh of your stomach. 

“Did you uh -”

“No… I didn’t have a chance.” 

“Oh, uh… sorry about that. That happens a lot, y’know? Part of the whole speedster thing, I can’t always –” 

“Peter… shhh… it’s cute. It means you like me.” 

He pointed a finger at you, pushing his bottom lip into his top. “That… that is true. Hey. I have an idea.”

In the darkness, only illuminated by the moonlight that filtered in through the window, you saw Peter sink down to his stomach, resting between your legs. He moved both legs atop his shoulders, pulling you forward.

You felt a hot breath against your thighs, and whimpered. When a warm tongue licked between your wet folds, you moaned out, grinding your head back into the pillow. Peter slipped a single digit into your cunt gently, twirling his tongue around your clit as he did. He pumped it in and out a few times, feeling the way your cunt squeezed around him. Your wetness coated his finger, dripping down the length into his palm. 

You felt your cunt clenching, uncontrollably. Peter did too and withdrew his finger. His tongue flicked at your clit rapidly, the wet, slick sounds filling the quietness of the bedroom. His dark eyes flitted up to yours, watching every minute expression that flashed across your face. 

“S-slow down…” you whispered, not loud enough for him to hear. It was more of a desperate breath in the shape of the words. He didn’t hear you, and even if he had, he was far too busy burying his nose in your cunt, tasting your sweet fluids. His tongue lapped at your entrance and curled back towards his throat, swallowing. He groaned into her, the sound resonating through your core. 

“Peter… Peter!” You whispered harshly, gripping his head on either side. He didn’t budge, and his eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. Moving up to take a fistful of silver hair, you yanked him off your cunt, his reddened lips glistening and open, confused. His inky orbs looked up at you, dazed and desperate. 

“Whaaat?” he asked, a hint of annoyance tainting his usually upbeat voice. 

“Slow… down….” 

“Sorry but that’s not really… my…” He paused, looking at your weeping cunt again. “...thing. She doesn’t really look like she wants me to, either.” He reached forward, sweeping a single digit along the length of your pussy. You jerked, sensitive.   

“I can’t stand it, I’m gonna’ cum too quickly.” 

“Quick is in the name, babe.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if telling you that you were shit out of luck.

He dove back in, and picked up licking her again, from bottom to top. He was slightly slower than before – maybe he’d decided to have mercy on you. Or maybe he was just savouring the feeling of your cunt as it practically fluttered on his tongue, your clit throbbing with the sensitivity. You rocked your hips against his mouth, humping his pretty face with reckless abandon. It was the only control you had, because as soon as you started that, his tongue had returned to the speedy flipping of your clit.

You were going to cum – so fast that you hardly had time to process it. 

“Ffffuck… oh god,” you whimpered. Your cunt pulsed over and over again, and Peter was right there to feel it. He speared two fingers into her. Curled them upwards, feeling the clench of your orgasm as it came. He fucked you with his fingers until the throbbing stopped, and the first hint of overstimulation came – you whined, too loudly. 

Peter grinned, his slick fingers slipping from your pussy. With a mischievous little glimmer in his eyes, he observed them, watching as the thick, clear strands strung apart between his digits. 

You wanted to ask him on a date. He wanted to ask you on one. But neither of you said a thing. Neither of you said a thing, and just watched each other breathing, chests heaving, heavy with lust. Lookin’ cuter than she ever has… Peter thought, watching you in your post-coital state; sweaty and blushing. 

You knew you were going to be obsessed with him – were already obsessed with him. The high that you chased with skating was nothing compared to what you felt being around this silver dork, and all his little quirks.  

“So uh… same bat-time, same bat channel?” 

You chuckled. “Yeah, Peter. Yeah.” 

[fableforger]

Oh my goodness I love this IF so much already, I’ve only just found it and I am so invested and excited to watch its growth.

I was wondering if I could I ask for the classic: ROs’ reaction to the mc saying “I can hold my entire world in my hands, wanna see?” and then gently cradling the RO’s face?

Aaaah what a lovely ask - thank you so much for the kind words! 💛 I'm so happy you're enjoying the story already - that means the world.

And oof. That line? That line?? Let’s just say… we’re already deep in the romance here. MC and RO are together, fully in love - feelings have been felt, walls have come down (well, some of them).

Here's how each RO might:

Beware: Since this is a RO-related ask, there may be minor spoilers ahead. Please keep scrolling if you’d prefer to stay unspoiled.

..............................................................................................................................

Dorian/Dione Instant deflection, then slow, stunned silence. This hit something soft. “Ugh, I should’ve known you were the romantic type.” Says it with a crooked grin - but they lean into your hands like they’re trying not to fall apart.

---

Theron/Thera They'd go still - overwhelmed, but peaceful. “You always say things like that… and I never quite know what to do with them.” They close their eyes and lean forward, like your hands are their home.

---

Zephiron/Zephyra A brief flash of panic in their eyes - then quiet surrender. They didn’t expect to feel this much, but by now they do. “I was never supposed to become someone’s world. But Gods… I like how it feels.” Says it low and breathless - and doesn’t move away.

---

Alexos/Alexa: Something in their chest cracks open. They’re trying very hard not to show it. “…You shouldn’t say things like that. You already made me fall for you.” Their hands come up to cover yours - like holding onto the moment might save them.

---

Rhaelos/Rhaela Doesn’t move for a full heartbeat. Then breathes in - deep and steady. “If that’s true, you carry something heavy.” They look you deep in the eyes. “But we’ll carry it together.” They say it like a vow. And for once, their voice is warm.

---

Drakon: He feels the kitsch alarm. But it still lands. It really lands. “That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” Says it with a smirk - and kisses your palm before you can pull away.

---

???: Smile impossibly wide. But also sincere, not over the top. “That is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.” Then she puts her forehead against yours and closes her eyes. Just to breathe. Just to feel.

[the-heliophile]

GOOD LUCK BABE! - MEL MEDARDA

FROM FOURMI 🐜 💌 I got a couple of comments on my previous works and it made me so happy, also I have so many songs I want to write to but I feel like I'm not good enough yet AAAAH

song. good luck babe!, chappel roan

pairing. mel medarda x zaunite!reader

content. angst, situationship, toxicity on both ends.

summary. you're a zaunite and Mel keeps you hidden like a dirty secret but that's not what you want anymore. (2.6k words)

“it's fine, it's cool

you can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth”

It had been going on for two years now, two years of you being treated like a dirty secret to be kept hidden forever. And yet you had never found the strength to give up on what you and Mel had, hopelessly clinging to the idea that one day you and her would become official, that you would be enough for her to show you off in public. You were tired, tired of leaving her bed right when you were done because she couldn't risk getting caught with you, always the same excuse, so you would always go back to Zaun feeling stupid and used yet knowing that you'll get back in her bed the minute she would want you to. You were nothing more than a lovesick fool, an idiot letting Mel play with your heartstrings, deep down you knew you'd never be good enough for her to be seen with you but you couldn't help but hope that maybe one day she'd reciprocate your feelings enough to officiate things. “It would be casual, just fun between friends” is what she had offered and you had agreed without hesitation, despite knowing what you were getting into you couldn't help but want more, more of her attention, more of her time, you wanted to be the only recipient of her love. “Do you..do that with anyone else ?” You asked, a hint of hesitation in your voice, you could feel your heartbeat speeding at the mere thought of her seeing others but you wanted, no you had to know. Were you the only one for her or were you just one of many faces ?

“and guess I'm the fool,

with her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof”

Mel sighed in response, “Sweetheart, please don't make us seem more than we are, you know it won't lead to anything good..” You knew, from the way her eyes darted around the room and the corners of her lips turned downward, you knew you weren't the only one and that she didn't want to tell you that. You felt as if your heart stopped for a second, your breath stuck in your lungs. All of a sudden it felt like her hand was around your heart, squeezing all the blood out of it and leaving it an empty mess. You didn't reply, merely nodding before getting up, it was time for you to leave anyway. You got dressed with a bit of struggle, your mind too focused on her words to actually pay attention to what you were doing, your hands hastily fumbling with the buttons of your shirt. The knot in the pit of your stomach seemed impossible to undo, but it was fine, you could take it, you could wait for her, until she was ready to love you back. Mel looked at you with a heavy gaze, she muttered the same thing she always did, “Please, you know it's just casual between us, it's what's best for you, for us.” and you forced an answer out, “I know, I promise..” you said although the shakiness in your voice was too strong to hide.

“I don't wanna call it off,

but you don't wanna call it love,

you only wanna be the one that I call ‘baby’”

Despite you guys being nothing, Mel was somewhat possessive, perhaps a result of the way she lost everything when she got banished to Piltover so she holds onto anything that is hers, because even if you are nothing you are still hers. Her possessiveness shows whenever you bring up a previous lover or mention that you went on a date. Mel can't help it, that ugly feeling showing its head whenever she thinks about you slipping through her fingers, she doesn't love you, she knows that much, you're just convenient and you're too in love with her to break things off but you still belong to her and she's not exactly one for sharing. The others come and go, most of them end up wanting more than she wants to give them and they get tossed aside like a toy she grew bored of. But she doesn't know how often you've been considering breaking it off with her, she doesn't know how hesitant your steps are now whenever you walk towards her house. It's been plaguing your mind, the fact that there are others, the idea that for every night you're not in her bed somebody else is warming it, the feeling of not being good enough because why else would she need others ? Is it because you're a Zaunite ? Are you not educated enough ? Not pretty enough ? But then why is she so possessive of you ? Growing cold and nonchalant anytime you mention an ex or someone who is interested in you, she wants to be the only one for you while expecting you to be fine with being one of many and you don't know how much more of it you can take.

“I'm cliché, who cares ?

it's a sexually explicit kind of love affair”

Your mind keeps drifting to all the times you thought were romantic between you and Mel and you're progressively realizing that it was all in your head, your feelings for her seem to have thoroughly messed with your judgement. You used to think that bringing her flowers every time you came to her house would flatter her, but looking back on it you cannot remember seeing any of those bouquets in her room, ever. In your mind Mel and you had nice chats after sex, you remember vividly how beautiful she was whenever the afterglow would hit but you weren't chatting, you were asking her questions and she was giving you short answers, but still it had been enough for you, you were getting to know her, even if just a little. You had even tried inviting her to dinner though she declined because “The Undercity is too dangerous” which you couldn't blame her for. Matter of fact is that the romance only came from your side and you are only realizing it now. It feels suffocating, all of a sudden it's like you can't breathe anymore, the realization of how much you had idealized your nonexistent relationship with Mel makes you feel so, so stupid. It was just sex, just that, not even aftercare, you fucked and you left, no idle chats, no dates and no exclusivity.

“and I cry, it's not fair

I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air”

Your eyes sting, your vision is getting progressively blurry as all the tears start to form and you let them fall freely, using the safety of your apartment to let the torrent of emotions overtaking flow out. You want to scream, to break things, anything to ease the ache in your heart, anything to stop the memories of her from flashing in your mind. You let yourself fall onto your bed, curling up into a ball and closing your eyes. You love her and all you had wanted was for her to love you back, you gave her your everything and more in hopes she would reciprocate your feelings but you were wrong, she doesn't love you and she never has. That night you decide to go out, it's not like Mel needs you anyway. You're all dolled up as you enter the Last Drop, ready to spend the night in a blur of dancing and alcohol to take your mind off of things. And that's exactly what you do, the next morning you wake up in a stranger's bed and force of habit, you leave in the morning unnoticed. But you don't feel better, if anything you just think about Mel even more now. Would she be jealous if she knew what you had done last night ? Would her heart clench at the thought of losing you ? Or would she simply move on to the next person with ease, as if you and her had never shared anything in the first place ?

“think I'm gonna call it off, even if you call it love

I just wanna love someone who calls me "baby’”

You're dragging your feet, standing on Mel's doorstep at 3AM wasn't in your plans but you could use a little distraction from your thoughts and it's a good opportunity for you to have an actual conversation with her, to settle this once and for all. She opens the door for you and you remove your shoes before hastily following her to her bedroom. Once you're both done and catching your breaths you turn to her, clenching your fists to steel your nerves before uttering “We need to talk.” Mel raises her eyebrows, looking at you almost expectantly, “Well, what is it ?”. You take a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling and force the words out, “I don't think this arrangement is working, I think we should stop.” Mel looks taken aback, clearly not expecting you to be the one to end it between you two. “Why ?”. She questions with furrowed brows. And you mumble, feeling a lot smaller now when you're facing her like this “I don't think we're compatible, I am not enough for you and in a way, you're not enough for me either.” She looks at you, her gaze hardening at your words, “Why do you say that ?” Her voice is colder now, you can hear her irritation clearly and it makes you want to disappear so bad. “We had different expectations when it came to our arrangement and clearly we don't harbor the same feelings towards each other, I don't want to keep doing this with you when it's really just hurting me.” Mel takes a few moments to answer, gathering her thoughts, she doesn't want to give a rash answer “That’s alright, I understand.” You feel disappointed at that, a part of you was hoping she would try and convince otherwise, maybe even confess, but instead she seems to have immediately accepted your decision, as if what you had truly didn't matter to her. You decide not to elaborate any further, you put your clothes back on and take your leave, giving a last glance towards her house, trying to commit it to memory. 

“when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night with your head in your hands, 

you're nothing more than his wife”

It all happened over three months ago and you're still not over her, she left such a big imprint on your heart that you feel like you'll never love someone as strongly as you loved her. Today you're working in Benzo’s old shop, you took over it after his death years ago though Ekko still drops by to help you. While you're cleaning the counter and the register you hear the little bell chime and look up, your heart drops and your throat suddenly closes at the sight. Mel and her boytoy, the man of progress, councilor Talis. You could just tell, from the way they behaved with each other that something was going on between the two and it made your blood boil. As you helped Jayce with whatever tools he needed you kept casting glances at Mel but she was looking around, not once catching your gaze. Eventually Jayce left with Mel on his trail, you can't help but call out to her “The Undercity is too dangerous to come see me but it's fine with your new toy ?” The words tasted bitter, the painful feeling of not being enough for her making your eyes sting with tears threatening to fall any moment. She doesn't even look at you as she answers, “We have enforcers with us. Why, do you have a problem with me coming here ?”. You look down at the counter, “You moved already haven't you ? It's only been three months..” Mel raises an eyebrow, giving you a skeptical look “Move on from what ? Our casual hook ups ?”. Your head shoots up to look at her back “We had more than that! You can tell yourself that there were no feelings but you had to have felt something! I loved you!”. Mel sighs, her head turning just enough to eye you “There was nothing, Jayce and I are together now, you should really move on, for your own good.” You're seething but you try your best not to show it, “He can't give you what I gave you, you know that as well as I do. I gave you my everything and I would've given you anything you wanted, even if you never reciprocated. I won't move on, and deep down I bet you'll still think of me in years.” The words feel like lies on your tongue but you don't want to back down, though the argument is quickly settled when Mel leaves, not bothering to spare you a glance or give you a proper answer, she wishes you good luck in life and leaves. You wipe away the tears on your face and try to relax your breathing, not wanting anyone coming in to see you like this.

“and when you think about me, all of those years ago

you're standing face to face with "I told you so”’

It's been 6 months now and you're over it, at least that's what it feels like most of the time. You still think of Mel here and there but you've made peace with the idea that it was impossible between you, instead you focus on the shop and your hobbies. You've come to realize that you have no reason to waste your time and love on someone who feels the need to hide you because of where you come from, on someone to whom appearances are too important not to keep in the shadows. You don't blame her, not anymore, she's in a respected position and worked so hard to get there that she doesn't want to risk it all going down the drain for some passing fancy. Surprisingly enough you can't say the same about her moving on, you've seen her in the shop several times since she came in with Jayce, though she's always alone now. She has tried making small talk, you gave in the first times but eventually as you started to move on your replies turned shorter and shorter until your conversations were the same as with any customer. You don't know what's going on in her life, if she's unhappy with her lover or if she misses you, the convenience of having you at her beck and call but you don't care anymore. It's her problem now, she'll just have to sort her feelings and move on like you did. You can't help the slight satisfaction blooming in your heart anytime you see her, she never even buys anything, she looks around, attempts a conversation and leaves and you rejoice in her dejected face when you don't chat with her. A small part of you is happy to know that she might be getting a taste of how you felt throughout your whole “relationship”. You're back to enjoying your life as it is, it's not all pink but it's a nice routine with a job that gives you enough money to live and that's all you need. You can live without her, even if it didn't feel like it months ago. 

"Well good luck babe!

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling."

[wraith-apologist]

Medical Considerations - Stargate SG-1/Atlantis The Official Magazine #11, August 2006

I'm not sure how good the image quality is going to be after upload so the story is under the cut as well for easier reading

Also it says "goes back to season 4" but to me this definitely reads as early season 1? Anyways, enjoy

Like so many jobs, being a doctor has its ups and downs. Moments you treasure... and moments you wish you could forget. This moment? Aaaah... this moment was one for the record books. Our redoubtable Colonel O'Neill was lying prone on an infirmary bed. With some difficulty I'd persuaded him to remove his ruined combat trousers. And his boots. And his socks. The only thing missing was the bear skin rug. I'd've grabbed a camera - if only I weren't sure he'd tie my arms in a pretzel for trying... 

Oh well. A girl can dream. 

Face buried in his folded arms, the colonel said, muffled: "I can't believe it, Carter. You shot me in the ass." 

On the other side of the curtained cubicle, Sam cleared her throat. "I'm so sorry, Colonel. Really." 

"In the ass, Carter," he repeated. "I had no idea it was that big a target." 

"If it helps, sir, I wasn't aiming at you. I was aiming at Daniel." 

"Oh, thank you very much," said an aggrieved Daniel Jackson, also on the other side of the curtain. "I-" 

"No, Captain, it doesn't help," said the colonel, ruthlessly interrupting. He does that when he's peeved. "Daniel's ass is twice the size of mine. You know, this exercise was meant for his benefit, but if you've been glued to a microscope so long you can't-" 

"Telescope, sir," said Sam, interrupting right back as Daniel protested incoherently. "I'm an astrophysicist, not a biologist. But I kept up my weapons' ratings. 97 per cent accuracy last practice session." 

Interesting. Jack O'Neill has one of the most dominant personalities I've ever met. To survive everything he's survived, I guess it's a prerequisite. But Captain Samantha Carter was still a mystery to me. Even on a good day it's tough for women in the military; for her to survive not only the hazards of stargate travel but the overwhelming force of nature named Colonel Jack O'Neill, she'd have to be more than terrifyingly intelligent. A lot more. 

I confess, I'd been a bit worried about Sam Carter. But hearing her stand up to the colonel I stopped worrying and started smiling. 

Making sure he couldn't see me, of course. 

The colonel snorted. "97 per cent, captain? Mine was 99.5, and thereby lands a paintball in the ass!" 

"Actually, Jack, you're being unfair," said Daniel, coherent again. "I was facing Captain Carter when you were shot, and you crossed her line of fire. Not on purpose, obviously, but you were so keen to shoot me and I'm trying very hard not to take that personally, by the way I don't think you realized your position." 

Well, well. So here was someone else not in awe of our intimidating colonel. Interesting. Especially since O'Neill wasn't biting Daniel's head off for daring to question his expertise in public and in front of a subordinate. 

"Daniel Jackson is correct, O'Neill," said SG-1's fourth and most unusual member. "You did indeed present your ass as a target. Perhaps retirement has affected you more than you realise." 

The colonel tensed at that, but said nothing. I was amazed all over again. Not only that Teal'c would say it, but that O'Neill would accept it. It meant he was rattled; something you didn't see every day. 

Time to put him out of his various miseries. "Actually, if we're going to be accurate, it was the colonel's hip that was hit, not his ass," I said briskly. "Now since you three are unhurt I suggest you forget the Greek Chorus routine and let me do my job." And even though I was being perfectly pleasant, I made sure there was just enough doctor in my voice they couldn't mistake an order for a suggestion. 

"Okay," said Sam. "Sir, we'll see you later. And again, I really am sorry." 

"Forget it, Carter," said the colonel. "Vamoose, and get that paint washed off. Baby puke yellow isn't your color." 

The rest of SG-1 obediently vamoosed, and I got down to business. The paintball round had hit O'Neill directly on a knot of ugly scar tissue. As I probed the surrounding blotched bruise he sucked air in hard between his teeth. 

"Sorry," I murmured. "I guess sleeping dogs don't like being woken." 

"Not so much," he admitted. "Perhaps it wasn't such a good idea to juice up the paintball charges after all, hmm?" 

It was the hip he'd damaged falling out of the sky over Iraq. Just one of many insults his body has endured over the years, that very few people know anything about. On the base, only General Hammond and I are privy to that information. It's a dubious honor. Reading Jack O'Neill's medical file almost turned my hair white. 

"There's no damage, as such," 

I assured him. "The paintball's impact excited the nerves, that's all. I'll give you a shot of meperidine, apply some heat, and you'll be fine." 

"Whatever. Just get me out of here." 

"Teal'c is right, you know," I said, taking a risk. "You've been off active duty for over a year. You might want to ease back into this. Tread lightly. Not just for your sake, but for Dr Jackson's, too." 

"Joining SG1 was Daniel's idea. I warned him it'd be sink or swim. If you think I'm going to cut him any slack just because he's a civilian playing catch-up you didn't read my file closely enough." 

I worry about Daniel. Quietly distraught, grieving for his lost Sha're, he spends every waking moment trying to prove he's good enough for SG1. Trying to measure up to Jack O'Neill. "Trust me, Colonel," I snapped. 

"I read every last syllable. All I'm saying is -"

"Irrelevant." The colonel shifted his head, revealing one unenthusiastic eye. "Besides, He won't thank me for treading lightly. He wants his wife back." 

I sighed. "I know." 

"Then act like it. Doctor." 

Which neatly put paid to that conversation. 

I turned my attention to his physical well-being. Painkillers, heat packs and rest did the trick. I didn't see SG1 again till two days later, when they turned up in the infirmary for a standard pre-mission physical. 

"You're going to P7X-882?" I said, inspecting Daniel's tonsils. "Why? I thought SG4 already declared the planet abandoned and unprofitable?" 

"They did," said Sam, as she pressed cotton wool against the needle hole in her arm. "That's why it's perfect." 

"For?" 

"A little serious combat training," said Colonel O'Neill. 

As Daniel pulled a face at the taste of the tongue-depressor I'd just dropped into the bin I said, "Not a bad idea. But why take it off-world?" 

"That was my suggestion," Teal'c answered. "The terrain surrounding Cheyenne Mountain is well known to SGC personnel. For a true testing we should conduct exercises on unfamiliar territory." 

It made sense. It also made me antsy. "Just you four? Or will this be a multi-team extravaganza?" 

"Only us this time," said the colonel. "If it turns out to be a good training ground Hammond's keen to establish larger scale skirmishes." 

"If I recall, P7X-882 is a pretty harsh place."

"Which would be why I picked it," said the colonel, teeth bared in a smile. "Now can we go?" 

He was walking just fine again, Daniel's tonsils were pink and healthy. Sam's blood pressure was a textbook 120/80 and Teal'c was ... Teal'c. "Yes. Go. Have fun. And come back in one piece," I added as they reached the infirmary door. "Don't go falling over any cliffs." 

God. Me and my big mouth. 

The next morning I was catching up on paperwork when my phone rang. 

"We have a situation, Doctor Frasier," said General Hammond. "Report to the embarkation room." 

I dropped my pen, kicked over the chair and ran. 

"It's Daniel," said Sam via the MALP's remote feed. She looked filthy and exhausted and worried to death. "He fell through a crevasse into a cave and he's pinned under a rock. Teal'c tried to free him but we need portable lifting equipment to get him out." 

"What's his condition?" I asked. 

"No internal injuries or broken bones but he's pretty banged up and I'm sure he's concussed. I've done what I can but he needs a doctor before he's moved." 

I exchanged a look with the general, who leaned into the camera. "Captain, I'm sending you SG-5 and Doctor Frasier. Is the rest of SG1 all right?" 

"We're fine, sir. Just hurry, please. It'll be dark in a few hours." She cut the connection. "I'd like to take a med team, too, General," I said. "Just in case." 

"Take whoever you need," said Hammond. "Off-world protocols, Doctor. You've got half an hour." 

Thirty minutes isn't long enough to prep two teams for 'gate travel, but I didn't argue. SG5 and my team stepped out of the wormhole onto P7X-882 42 minutes later. Sam was waiting for us, almost dancing on the spot with impatience. There was dried blood on her hands, her face, her fatigues. 

"I'm fine,” she said as she hurried us towards a distant stunted treeline. The surrounding terrain was brown, barren, rocky. The air was thin and dry, the single sun low and burning. "Most of it's Daniel's.”

That conjured unpleasant images. "How is he?" 

"Hanging in there.” She toggled her vest radio. "Colonel, it's Carter. We're on our way." 

Crackly, distorted, the colonel replied. "Make it snappy. Teal'c's hurt now." 

Sam said something very unladylike under her breath. "Copy that, sir. See you soon." 

"How far, Captain?" said Major Barlow, SG-5's team leader. 

"A little under three miles," Sam replied, and glanced at the equipment-laden members of his team. "Sorry." 

Barlow just grunted, and picked up the pace. 

We heard Daniel before we saw him. Some trick of the cave he was trapped in amplified his voice, which escaped from the crevasse he'd fallen through. 

"What? That translates as 'The parrot of my great-aunt is limping'! You've read it wrong, Jack! Try again!" 

Teal'c sat on a boulder nearby. The left side of his face was smeared with blood from a vicious scalp wound high above his eye. When he saw us he stood and shouted down to the cave below. "They are here, O'Neill!" 

"Good!" the colonel shouted back. "Send them down quick, before I kill Daniel!" 

I tried to look at Teal'c's wound, but he blocked the effort. "My symbiote heals me. You must attend to Daniel Jackson." 

"I will," I said. "If you'll show me how to reach him." 

The rocky plateau we stood on was humped and riven with crevasses, scattered with boulders large and small. "He is down there," said Teal'c, pointing. One side of the crevasse he indicated was newly scarred, its old lip had broken away, revealing fresh pink stone veined with a purple mineral I didn't recognize. "I will lower you to him by rope. But you must be extremely careful. The cave is unstable." 

Great. As SG5 unpacked the equipment they'd humped from the 'gate I told my med team to stand by, tied the climbing rope round me in an abseiler's cradle, took an extra-tight hold of my medkit and let Teal'c lower me through the crevasse to my patient. 

The cave's interior was dimly lit with field lamps, enough so I could see Daniel pinned ankle to mid-chest beneath a single slab of fallen rock, and Colonel O'Neill crouched beside him. Cleaned of blood, Daniel's drawn face was cut and bruised and his eyes were unfocused. 

"You don't need me, do you?" said the colonel, straightening as I touched the rubble- strewn cave floor. 

Like Sam, he looked exhausted. Bloody. Caked with dirt. I didn't bother trying to check him over. "No," I said, and handed him the rope. Moments later he was being hauled out of the cave and it was just me and Daniel. 

"Hey there, Dr Jackson," I said, kneeling beside him. "How are you doing?" 

"I've been better," he whispered. "Is Jack gone?" 

I locked up, to see the colonel's boots disappearing through the crevasse. "Yes." 

"Good," he said, and started shaking. "Sorry, sorry," he stuttered, teeth chattering. "God, how embarrassing..." 

"It's okay, you're in shock," I soothed him as I checked his pulse, his color, his capillary refill. "Does it hurt when you breathe? Or when I do this? This? This?" 

It didn't. There were no broken bones or squished internal organs. Bruises aplenty, and some nasty scrapes and cuts, definitely a concussion, but otherwise he was intact. Thank God. The large rock holding him fast to the cave floor hadn't crushed him, just sat balanced on smaller rocks and pinned him down like a cat's paw, too heavy to be lifted even by someone as strong as Teal'c. 

Mindful of his rattled brain, I gave him a light painkiller to take the edge off things. Punching the needle through his skin I said, "What were you translating?" 

Daniel turned his head a little, lifted his free arm and pointed. "It's cuneiform. Related to the Hittite language, I think. Here, of all places. Miraculous." 

The ancient writing had been carved into the cave wall. Lots and lots of mysterious symbols that made as much sense to me as crow-tracks in snow. To Daniel, it was like reading the morning newspaper. Incredible. 

"How did you find -" 

"We were playing military Hide and Seek," Daniel said, his teeth still chattering. "I was running over the plateau and I tripped. Came down beside the crevasse. When I realized there was a cave underneath I couldn't not investigate. Used one of my flares. Don't tell Jack. I saw the inscriptions - tried to get a better look - and the edge of the crevasse gave way." 

"You could've been killed," I scolded. He managed a smile. "But I wasn't. And I found this." His blurry eyes again tried to focus on his discovery. 

"Fool's luck," I said. "With emphasis on the 'fool'." Despite the circumstances, I laughed. "And only you would be worried about accurate translations at a time like this." 

He flinched, and suddenly there were tears in his eyes. "I was distracting myself." 

His distress was more than plain shock, or the mild pain of his injuries. I leaned closer, resting my hand against his cheek. "Daniel, what's wrong? You can tell me, it's doctor-patient privilege. Is there something you haven't -" 

"My parents," he whispered. His undamaged fingers groped for mine. "They died like this. Crushed. When I was little. I was there..." 

Oh, dear God. "Daniel, I'm so sorry. But you're safe now, and we're getting you out of here." 

He nodded. "I know. I know. It's just..." 

I held his hand and crooned nonsense as he battled his demon memory. Overhead, the others' voices rose and fell in spirited debate, working out how best to rescue him. 

"Don't tell Jack," he said at last. "He doesn't need more grief." The ghost of a smile touched his lips. Affectionate. Regretful. "He'll tear me a new one for this but he really blames himself. He always does, when someone gets hurt." 

I suspected as much, given his personal history, but it was interesting to have Daniel confirm my hunch. As hard as he argued with the colonel - and they really did go at it sometimes - I'd sensed beneath the passionate opposition an unexpected vein of protectiveness. Observed a kind of watchful concern that couldn't be explained by current events. 

Daniel knew something about Jack O'Neill that I, with all my impressive security clearances and access, didn't. Something I was certain involved the first mission to Abydos. Boy, did I want to know what it was. 

"If he starts yelling at me," said Daniel, "let him. Okay? It'll make him feel better." 

Before I could answer, the colonel dropped smoothly back into the cave. "We're ready. Is he stable enough to be moved, doc?"

"Yes. Provided you take it easy."

"Then stand back. This'll be tricky." I squashed myself into the farthest corner of the cave, up against Daniel's precious cuneiform, and watched as a cramped and crowded O'Neill, Teal'c and half of SG5 performed the sweaty, delicate extraction, assisted by Sam and the rest of SG5 up on the plateau. A couple of times my heart stopped, but thanks to Teal'c disaster was averted. 

Those inscriptions weren't the only miracle in that cave, let me tell you. 

At last Daniel was freed. After another swift medical assessment - our resident archeologist's bruises would've taken first prize in a modern art exhibition - I saw him secured in a harness and lifted to safety. Then I grabbed hold of the rope and followed him up. 

The last light was fading fast; we'd need torches to get back to the 'gate. Efficient as ever, my med team already had Daniel strapped to the evac stretcher. He wasn't happy about it. "I'm fine, I can walk, you don't have to carry-" 

"Daniel!" barked Colonel O'Neill. "The only thing stopping me from knocking you on your ass and shooting you green and orange with my paintball gun is you staying horizontal on that damned stretcher!" 

Daniel tried to sit up. "Look, Jack-"

"Daniel!" 

Daniel subsided, grumbling. All right, all right. There's no need to yell." In the fading light I caught his swift, secret glance in my direction. The faintest of shadows still haunted his eyes, but his lips quirked. "I'm not deaf." 

"You're damned lucky you're not dead, moron," was the colonel's sympathetic reply. "Now let's get the hell out of here. I'm missing The Simpsons, thanks to you." 

Sam insisted on taking one end of the stretcher. Teal'c took the other. I nodded at the med team and they fell in behind. SG5 took point, torches blazing the path back to the stargate. As the expedition moved out Colonel O'Neill touched my elbow. 

"You're sure he's okay?" 

In combat boots I'm knee-high to a grasshopper. Staring up at him, perilously close to cricking my neck, I said calmly, "Of course. D'you think I'd let you yell at him if he wasn't?" 

The colonel looked worn down. On edge. There were shadows in his eyes, too. Unpleasant memories. But even so, his expression was rueful. Resigned. Beneath the surface tension, aggravated affection. “He'll want to come back here, you know. He'll nag nonstop until I get Hammond to greenlight a mission exploring every last damned cave looking for chicken scratchings on the walls. Cuneiform!" He made a sound of disgust. "What is that? It's not even a proper word!" 

I grinned. "You're very fond of Daniel, aren't you, Colonel?" 

"Fond?" Another derisive snort. "He drives me nuts." 

"Even so. You'll get Hammond to agree. Won't you." 

The colonel grunted. "Maybe. It depends."

"On?" 

"On whether I get home in time for The Simpsons. Let's move out, doctor." 

True to my word, I didn't tell the colonel, or anyone, what Daniel confided to me in that cave. In my job we call it The Seal of The Bedpan. I understand his reluctance to share; he's the only civilian on a team of seasoned, formidable warriors. He's afraid if he shows any kind of weakness it might count against him. Diminish him in their eyes. Especially the colonel's. He's wrong about that, but it's something he needs to discover for himself.. 

I still don't know what happened between him and O'Neill on that first insane mission to Abydos. But give me time. I'll find out. And when I do, I'll be one step closer to understanding what makes those mismatched friends tick. 

I can't wait.

[admiral-mason]

Ultra-Impact Part 4

Idea based on @valeriele3's Live Stream post

0-3 0-4 << YOU ARE HERE 0-5

PRELUDE /// FOURTH CLAIR DE ÉTOILES

TWO SUPREME MACHINES INFORM YOU OF THE CURRENT SITUATION.

You turned your body to face the red V-model machine, looking as if they had never fought V1 in the first place. Holding out its Knuckleblaster, V2 gestured to you for a handshake and you accepted it, feeling its three slightly sharp fingers in the process.

"You're here too?" You asked the robot as you finished up your handshake. "Indeed so. And it appears that I have the glory of the first of being able to talk with the godfather of this world."

V2's voice possessed a deep tone stronger than Capitano's voice you heard in the 5.1 Update's cutscenes on YouTube. They- or rather he- sounded cold and calculating, almost akin to a mafia boss or skilled hitman.

(A/N: V2's voice, in this case, sounds like the security units from The Callisto Protocol; the voice in question is Type 1 in the video.)

V1 then walked over to you two and the blue war robot pointed a middle finger at the red peacekeeping robot with its right arm while having its left arm on its hips.

"Hey, it's not my problem that the terminal procured my voice box faster than yours." V2 then looked towards the terminal before walking up to it. You followed closely out of curiosity. "Speaking of that, are you done procuring V1's voice box?"

The terminal's screen displayed a singular word: "YES." Meanwhile, you could see your Twitch chat fill up with messages on V2.

quantoom: Bro V1 and now V2??

johnifer donated $20.00 "OH MY GOD IT'S V2 AWOOGAH ARF ARFARFARF BARKBARKBARKBARKRBARKABRKABRAKR"

Mike: wtf

feetusdeletussthenyeetus donated $33.00 "Calm down bitch."

johnifer donated $69.00 "nuh uh"

feetusdeletussthenyeetus donated $69.00 "yuh huh"

NaviaLover291: Holy shot!

benjaminfan: do we just let them fight or

3929: Just lettem fight lmfao

As the two donators kept fighting with their wallets, V2's right arm suddenly had an object materialize in his left hand as his arm moved back into its original position. The object in question had a box-like shape with a speaker and some widgets and tidbits on its sides- it's likely V1's voice box, considering the "01" on the top of it.

You were kinda spooked out by this but didn't bother questioning it.

(A/N: this refers to how when you buy a weapon in Ultrakill, it kinda just materializes in your hand with no explanation; obviously this is simply for gameplay but my story does utilize some gameplay tidbits lmfao)

V2 then walked over to V1, whose animated movements made it feel giddy. The red machine then proceeded to place (it looked like a slap though with how the way the V-models place items) the voice box on V1's torso. The box disappeared with no trace of it but as usual, you didn't question it.

"Ah. Aaaah."

Now this had you raising an eyebrow because V1 picked a female's voice instead of the Microsoft SAM voice you've heard in all the videos.

(A/N: I imagine V1's voice sounds like this.)

(A/N: Do not question why the fuck I chose that in particular or I will eat all of your cookies)

"Oh, uh, hello, godfather! I can verbally communicate with you now!" V1 said, striding it- herself over to you. "And before you ask 'I thought your voice would be Microsoft SAM,' I'm a robot with no voice by default and as such there is nothing wrong with me being a girly girl~!"

You just stared at her with a blank expression. "O...kaaay, V1. It's just different, that's all."

"Any problems with that?"

"Nope."

"Alright cool!"

V2 then looked at the both of you. "Alright. Since our dear godfather just recently arrived, let me catch you up." He then looked at the terminal and pointed to it. "See that terminal over there? It tried warning you on that neck section of that 1000-THR Earthmover in Hell's Violence layer. To not touch the lands ruled by the seven gods... or what you know as Teyvat."

V2 then looked down. "As much as I would blame your curiosity, you would only have delayed the inevitable. I won't sugarcoat it: Hell is controlling Teyvat and its people in an attempt to kill you."

Your expression grew mortified, bewildered, and lost simultaneously. "Whoa whoa wait what?? Hell itself took over fucking Genshin??"

He looked back up at you, radiating serious yet somber energy despite his camera head only granting so much expression. "Unfortunately so. When you made your way to Teyvat, you inadvertently opened a backdoor for Hell to enter. It took over under the guise of those 'SAGAU Impostor AUs' on that Tumblr section or something."

"...Is that why all those Knights of Favonius have red eyes?" V2 nodded. "They're being utilized as puppets; just like the Mannequins. With little to no control, they're forced to simply attack anything they see."

Hearing all this left you with a question: "But why me? I mean, not to be self-degrading, but I'm just a dumbass who plays games on a camera for a buncha people!"

The machine's next words somehow ended up just as, if not more mortifying than his last ones. "True. But that's not Hell's plan. See, once you die, you'll be dead in the real world. And the organism of suffering will utilize your computer to attempt to manifest itself into the real world."

"But that's not gonna happen!" V1 interjected, her voice still chippy as her previous sentence. "You got not one, but two supreme machines perfectly capable of taking on the entirety of Hell here to help you out of this shitfest. I still have my arsenal, and I helped V2 gain equivalent weapons thanks to that terminal that tried to warn you. And that brings us to your arsenal!"

She then dragged you to the terminal before selecting a gun icon in the top left corner, which pulled up a tab titled "WEAPONS." It was like Ultrakill's weapon screen, currently only with the revolvers. Except, you noticed that the revolvers were different from the base game.

Your default revolver- or better said revolvers- were the Dual Wield revolvers. Their icon was two blue revolvers, one placed upon the other. They costed zero points to buy, so you decided to click on them.

(A/N: Look here and set the video to 0:43 seconds and then peek at the bottom left corner)

Suddenly, your arms briefly clipped downwards before two revolvers appeared in your hands and you cautiously looked at them. They both resembled the Piercer Revolver, but this time, they had what looked to be a "12" in the display section where the battery should be.

A tutorial box then popped up in your vision.

DUAL REVOLVERS: CHOOSE TO ATTACK A SINGULAR TARGET OR TWO TARGETS SIMULTANEOUSLY. LIMITED AMMO; SHOOT WISELY.

This meant that the display was likely for ammo.

"Ooh! You got double the firepower!" V1 excitedly said, already peeking at your revolvers. "Now can I have my Sharpshooter revolver back now?" You remembered that you still had it in your pocket and you nodded. V1 took her revolver from your pocket before saying a quick "thank you~!"

V2 looked at your new weapons and nodded. "You do indeed, godfather. Perhaps we should teach you some-" Suddenly, the sky flashed a bloody red and he stopped speaking.

"Shit... it seems that Hell finally caught up to us." He then walked up to the terminal and pushed a hidden button on its left side; this output a device akin to a phone and shut the terminal down. V2 grabbed it and hastily put it in your pocket.

"I'll explain later, godfather! Follow us!" You followed the two machines out of the forest, but once you did so...

...the three of you were met with a large force of fleshy figures in the distance. "It's sending husks after us..." V1 remarked. "Well, godfather, I hope you're ready for a true trial by fire, because I SURE AM CRAVING SOME BLOOD RIGHT NOW!"

You simply stared at the army of sinners as you held up your revolvers, still a little panicked. However, upon seeing V1 and V2 prepare for combat, you decided that at that moment, if Hell wanted to kill you, it would not do so without a fight.

Taglist: @valeriele3, @bunniotomia, @feetusdeletussthenyeetus, @quantoom

[pushingboi]

I take a deep breath as a contraction rolls through my body. Creeping upwards from my dilating cervix to the top of my belly is a pain that feels like it radiates through my whole body. I focus everything on breathing through it as you gently massage my sides, slowly rubbing your hands over my side, my belly and my back. You can feel the pressure hardening my overfull womb, every muscle contracting over my distended belly. I sway my hips, feeling the worst parts of the pressure alleviate as I move. "Fuck," I mouth.

You trace your hands over the front of my belly, so big you can hardly wrap your arms around the widest part. The fine, dark hair trailing a path from my pubes to my chest is stretched thin over the bump.

Inside, the baby fidgets, cramped, impatient and overdue. It kicks, not a gentle fluttering, but a frustrated squirming, beating the top of my uterus with its heels. "I know, baby. I know." I sigh, meeting the kicks with firm pressure from my fingers, hoping it can feel me. "It's squeezing me too."

I lean into your warmth, smiling, and inspect my beautiful voluptuous belly with pride, feeling as one with the flourishing life growing inside my womb. Despite the ache I'm filled with so much bliss and love and life, embracing the feeling of fullness for the last time as our baby is about to be born.

-

I breathe through contraction after contraction, persevering through the labour. Slowly the intensity increases, the pain increases, and I become more and more frantic and feral as instinct consumes sense.

The pain is constant now. There's no rest or relief from the end of a contraction, just a cycle of agony. Hot, productive agony, or slow, exhaustive agony. I kneel on the ground, rocking back and forth.

"It hurts.. it hurts.. it's tearing me open.." i sob. I reach between my legs and slip my fingers inside, hoping to feel a head there, but it feels so far up still as I feel through the folds of my pussy.

I try to re-center and breathe, breathe through the contraction, but the focus fades and is replaced with desperation. "I want to push.. I have.. I have to puushh!"

I lean into the pressure as I make my maiden effort. I groan through it. I push again, and push, every effort offering the tiniest morsel of relief.

I catch my breath, and push again. I gasp, and push. and push..

I feel progress - I feel the head descend with every push, and with every inch closer to my pelvis I feel it intensify. The pain radiates from my back through my hips, wreathing my pelvis in an aching pressure almost like a growing orgasm.

"Aaaaaaaaarghhhh!" I roar in frustration as I push. "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh! AAAAH!"

The head fills the bowl of my pelvis, crushing my birth canal as it stretches around the width. Suddenly, the waters gush free from my womb, and I'm overwhelmed by animal instinct.

There is no reaching me now, all I can do is scream as I fall back, gripping my taut belly and bearing down. Fluid and viscera drip down through the lips. "My pussy!" I cry. "It's.. It's in my pussy!" My labia begin to part in a teardrop around the head. As I stop and catch my breath it retreats again. Only time to catch my breath before I arch my back and heave, sprawling my legs open and screaming through the struggle.

For such a potent display of effort I make remarkably slow progress, but progress still. It begins to appear again, my woolly pussy bulging around the mass.

I toil and push, legs spread and pussy bared to the sky, as if pushing into the widest, most open space I can would somehow be easier to push out into.

The excruciating contraction rips through and crushes my belly like hands trying to pop a balloon by squeezing it. I thrash against the pain, bucking my hips rhythmically with each push as bit by bit the bulge splits open around the slick dark hairy mass. "FUUUUUCK!" My only hope at breathing is to scream. "AIIIIIIIYYYAAAAAAAAAAAUUGH!"

Sweat rolls down my skin, stinging my eyes and wetting down my hairy skin to a greasy sheen.

My face flushed red and belly gnarled and rolling, the scathing pressure continues to propel the baby downwards through my hips, the head slowly stretching me open, from a broad almond-shaped slit, ploddingly opening into a wide, round split.

The baby buffets my inside with amazing strength to its kicks, a strangely comforting motion of solidarity. The urge to push ceases momentarily as one contraction ends, and I lay sprawled, panting heavily.

I feel with my fingers over the unfolding arrival between my legs, and ever so briefly, smile and choke out a laugh between loud breaths. "There's our big baby.. being born..!"

Freed momentarily from the imprisoning intensity, I revel in the feeling of the baby filling my birth canal, my pelvis skewered around my child, grinding every pressure point within me. The slow grisly stretch of my pussy fills me with another kind of intensity, a kind of genuine, irreplaceable sensual ecstasy tingling through my abdomen.

The moment doesn't last long as I feel the next contraction, trying to steel myself but it hits as a tidal wave bludgeoning my senses.

"Aaaaurggh! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I moan. It doesn't get better, only stronger and stronger. My body tenses and trembles, my face scrunching as my body pushes. Whether I want to or not, I'm pushing. The head gradually quakes outward through my aching cunt.

I open wider and wider around the head with every push, bucking my hips and baying like a hound. I make short reckless pushes, no room left in my delirium for careful technique. All I have is the overwhelming urgency to do whatever it takes to birth this baby. As the head ploughs further through my strained opening it becomes abundantly obvious that this baby is absolutely huge.

Every time it seems the head is crowning it opens me even more miraculously, until the unfurling lips of my vagina are deformed over capacity, almost pressing against the inside of my outstretched thighs. I'm left screaming in violent rapture.

Finally the head begins to crown in earnest. "The baby! Is coo-minggg- ouuuuuuut!"

I throw my head back, glassy-eyed, and heave through the contraction. The wide head eases out, face upwards combing my engorged and tortured clitoris. I buck my hips once and the head is born with a gush of fluid, a head so wide and oblong its fat bruisy cheeks appear almost wider than the span between my legs.

The contraction ends just then and feel a brief respite again, and try to regain my strength. As my breath heaves the baby squirms within, fortunately helping turn itself to wards my left thigh in the process.

There's a short peaceful moment of near-stillness, pierced only by the beating of my heart ringing through my head, the rise and fall of my chest.

The urge returns slowly at first, and I brace and push. My pussy bulges out again, the head hanging free, but returns to position as the push ends. I push again, persevering. It's agonizingly slow, and I fear the shoulder may be stuck, but I have no choice but to keep pushing until it comes out. For several excruciating minutes and two contractions i push frantically through the seething hot pain. My strength fades but my determination and adrenaline carries me through.

I steel myself for a final effort to birth the baby. I take a deep breath, hands on my still-pregnant belly, and curl inwards as I begin to push once more.

I bellow out long and loud, an ear-splitting expression of every ounce of pressure through my body. My mind, my body, my world, everything to me becomes that one push. push. Push. Push. Push. PUSH. PUSH. PUSH. PUSH! PUSH!!

It works; bit by bit the pressure works downwards, my whole groin bulging out with the pressure and suddenly the wide top shoulder shears forth beneath my clit, followed by the other shoulder, unfurling with it an awkwardly- folded arm which reaches out from my opening reflexively.

"AAAAAAGH- COME OUT!"

I give birth to the baby at last as it erupts free past the hips. I grip at my belly, feeling the contents of my womb spilling out onto the floor with an immensely pressurized gush of fluid.

I moan with the rush of relief and fall back, recuperating momentarily after the ordeal. From between my legs I hear a quiet gurgling and a gasp, and dart upwards to check on the baby.

At first I just stare - there's a baby. I just pushed it out of me. That's my baby!

I marvel at the sight - it's a girl! She's huge, probably 12lbs! I can't believe I was able to birth her at all with my small frame. As she begins to cry I ever so gently pick her up and take her to my breast.

[cursivebloodlines]

The only way to alleviate the guilt either of them shared was to change the situation, improve it for themselves. Arguing about it until they were blue in the face certainly didn’t help, especially when it seemed like at some point the arguing went from valid points that desperately needing addressing to spewing hurtful words and arguing for the sake of arguing. Logan believed they would be relieved of their guilt when he finally got up off his ass and done something about it. The only conclusion was simple. But he really had gotten comfortable with Danielle since everything changed for them. They were in their own little bubble, and he’d gotten too comfortable. And it was like outside didn’t exist. Why would he want anything else when he finally had everything he wanted? Or maybe it was cowardice. That, he couldn’t accept. No, he wasn’t a coward. He just wanted to do things the right way. At least try not to be a complete prick…but look how that ended up turning out anyway. And maybe he was a bit too laid back for his own good. When he wasn’t arguing with Daniele, that is.

Oh, here we go again, he thought. They were definitely past the point of talking about perfectly valid issues between them. He was past the point of thinking straight now because what even were they talking about anymore? It was nonsense! Pure and utter nonsense. It was like they were listening out for keywords they could pull apart and find a reason to cause a fuss over what was said. They were both as stubborn as each other; it was probably why they insisted on carrying on and carrying on over nothing. Talking for the sake of talking. All it did was spring upon more issues, not resolving them. When would they learn? (Not any time soon, by the looks of it.) “What you’re not admitting?” Logan repeated, scoffing as if it was the most obvious thing on planet Earth. “That your Miss Innocent Goody-Two-Shoes Complex is just that — a complex! I know full well that I’m a dick, and at least I can admit that. But you?” His words came out fast so he needed to take a minute to breathe, and elicit a sarcastic laugh. Typical Logan. “You’ll say something horrible and then act as if I’m evil for stating facts! At least I know if I’m being a dick — god, it’s not about flexing that fact! I know— nobody’s perfect, for crying out loud! But don’t put this all on me when you’re just as bad as me.” Okay. Maybe that was the biggest reach of all. He never meant that, not really. In reality, he was a lot worse. But he supposed hearing her tell him she hated him before stung more than he cared to admit, so he was using any old stupid excuse to keep ranting and raving. What if I don’t want that stupid award? Logan rolled his eyes. Was she being serious right now? That woman, as much as he loved her, was insufferable right about now. “I don’t care if you want that stupid award because it doesn’t exist and even if it did exist, you wouldn’t get it! You wouldn’t even make the top ten, not with that attitude!” Meanwhile, he wasn’t even thinking about the worse that came out either, he was just talking and reacting. Talking and reacting. Maybe hearing the sound of his own voice would drown out whatever she had to say to him. Or not. “Please! You’re the last person who should be talking about growing up!” He proceeded to mimic her, in a deliberately awful and borderline pretentious impersonation of her voice, extra girly-fying it just to piss her off even more — if that were even possible anymore. She probably only said that because she didn’t know what else to say to him. Didn’t have a proper comeback. Silly. But wasn’t he mimicking her for the exact same reason? God. Women. “Grow up,” he added again after his impersonating tirade, in his own voice this time for added effect. It was childish, he knew, but he was past the point of caring. They were too far gone to see sense in each other.

Anticipating Danielle’s reaction to him commenting on her terrible effort at insults was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. The moment she uttered the words ‘oh my god’ told Logan all he needed to know and hear at that moment. At any other time he would have definitely laughed…but he was still mad. Evidently, she was too. And was she…really choosing to be upset that he said she was ‘only’ irresistible ‘most of the time.’ Granted, he could not deny that was cute. She really was adorable in her cute little agitated state. One inflicted by him, he needed to remind himself. But she was still cute. “Yeah, well nobody’s perfect,” he stated offhandedly, shrugging his shoulders as if to say ‘Oh, well.’ The truth was he did think she was always irresistible, not most of the time. Always. But he was annoyed with her (almost as much as she was pissed at him) so he deliberately left out that small — yet apparently important —detail out of the equation. “Oh, so you do think I’m full of myself then. Noted. I would never have guessed that since you supposedly hate me too while you’re at it. Whatever.” Real mature as ever.

Did she not realise he would do anything for her? At the drop of a hat, anything asked, he would provide - if he could, that was. But even if he couldn't, Logan would give it a damn good go at it because that was the type of person he was. If assurance was all Danielle needed, he would happily provide her with that. If he knew that was what she needed... but at least he knew now. Something to keep locked at the back of his head, ready to dip in and pull out whenever necessary. They were wading through uncharted waters, it was bound to get to either one of them sooner or later. However, he believed as long as they talked about it, and communicated with each other - which clearly, they needed to work on more instead of things blowing out of proportion - then they could get through this. They'd been through too much with each other not to. The worst was over now. It had to be. "No, it's... forget about it. I'm sorry, too."

The storm was over, thankfully. They had both given up their armour and their swords and just... honesty. Nothing like a good splash of the truth. But at least they were doing better than running around in circles, arguing for the sake of arguing. They were actually listening to each other now. If only they had done this before all was said and done. But better late than never, right? Right. That had to be it. As much as Logan thought he had given her plenty of reassurance and reminders of how much he loved her, it was abundantly clear it wasn't as much as she needed. So, he needed to do better. "Okay... Remind you more often. That I can do," Logan promised, nodding his head slowly. "I thought I was doing it enough already; obviously I'm not, so I'll work on it." The thought of Danielle thinking he could ever want her to go broke his heart. He adored her, and would quite happily worship the ground she walked on if she wanted him to, how could he have screwed up this badly? "I wasn't trying to push you away, Dani, I was just..." Logan sighed, running a hand through his hair before reaching for her hand, squeezing lightly. "I was just being a dick. I really am sorry. I never want you to go... ever." Especially not when they were just beginning. God, no. He couldn't bear to think about it. Hearing her express her love for him warmed his heart though, expression softening. "I love you too. I'll never be tired of telling you whenever you need me to."

More than anything, he regretted ever starting this fight, to begin with. Why did he choose then to start? And why fly off the handle without even at least trying to have a civil discussion about it? Logan said some hurtful things and he knew he would have to spend time to fix what was broken, really put in the effort for her, to let her know how much he loved her and prove it so because clearly, whatever he had done then wasn't working. Or whatever did work had completely unraveled all by his hateful words and spiteful mouth. Never had he expected it to escalate the way it did... but all was said and done. Instead of going backward, it was time to move forwards. Together... Because that's how they ever did anything. They were a team, and he had no intention for that to end any time soon. Not when they were moving forward with their lives, with each other. "You're never going to lose me either... for the same reason - because I'll never be able to let you go. Not now, not ever." She had to make it up to him? No, surely not. Yes, she did say some things but never to the extent of some of his words. Not that it was a competition but... he didn't see what she had to make up for. It was he who got them into this position to start with. He simply shook his head, having no energy to fight back anymore. And partly afraid it would reignite the fuse and have them arguing again. Logan hadn't realised how much he hated arguing with her until today. Because they never really argued. Not like this. For a moment, when he embraced her, he felt her froze - was she going to pull away from him? Push him off? Tell him not to touch her? He wouldn't have blamed her if she had, though it would've hurt a lot. But before he knew it, her arms were around him and holding on to him for dear life. It took him by surprise, a little 'oof' tumbling from him but he instantly relaxed in her arms, in her touch. How was it possible he missed this as if it had been an eternity when that wasn't the case at all? One simple fight and it had him missing her like he hadn't held her in his arms for ages? "You do?" She believed him? He wasn't sure if she was saying it to make him feel better, or because she was tired of fighting, or whether it was because she meant it. But he was too exhausted to care to ask anymore. They would get through this. It was them versus the world; they'll always be okay. "We'll always be okay," he assured. "And it's not just you -- I need to do better too. We both can. As long as we have each other, we can do anything."

Wake-up calls were so rude, but oh..so necessary. Danielle knew this very well, her mind always finding a way to bring her back to reality. Would've, could've, should've. Most of her sentences had those three words included. She could've figured it out earlier, she should've kept her distance and told him some other time, she would've failed regardless. No matter how many times she looked at it, things wouldn't change. Logan was right about that. But the guilt had to go at some point, right? There had be a point where it wouldn't feel so bad. Or would their happiness always be plagued by that?This had gone too far. Sure, Danielle was sensitive (perhaps more sensitive than both), but the things that were said didn't hurt just because she was sensitive. They were hurtful. That's the tough part about someone knowing you so well, they also knew how to hurt you profoundly Today, Logan had done that. And she couldn't tell at what point was he still letting out his frustrations, and at what point was just things meant to hurt.

Telling him she hated him was harsh, maybe a bit too much, but that was not crossing her mind at the moment. The dust would eventually settle, they'd both be worn out, and then she'll evaluate all that was said. It would be a gut punch, thinking back to what she said said. How much she had thrown at him, just to hurt him too. The thought of hurting Logan seemed so ridiculous, she'd never do that. Knowing you're capable of it now, it was a heavy weight in her chest. This was no longer a conversation, it hadn't been for a while now. At this point, they were only listening to strike back, to hurt the other back. And clearly, they had each packed a punch or two. "Oh! Oh..so what? What am I not admitting?" The Nicest Person of the Year award? Brows knitted together momentarily, what did that even mean. If that was a thing, she may have an award or two - or at least be runner up to it. She thought so. Actually, who even cares? Frustration was rising, and it was suffocating her. The worst feeling. "Admitting you're a dick is not the flex you think it is! Besides, w-what if I don't want that stupid award?" Words were coming out rushed, she was so focused on getting everything out that she was stumbling over her words. "I need to grow up? Please! You're the last person who should be talking about growing up!" And the irony was that two children were telling each other to grow up. Danielle only rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. How do you even respond to that? Did she even want to? He'd probably just talk over her again.

For once, he was not immediately countering her words with more of his own. And Danielle was surprised, had she gotten a point across? Good for her, it was about time. Though, one glance at him and she began thinking that she had not made a point after all. "I wasn't...oh my god," forget it. He was right, insulting someone wasn't in her list of strengths. And it was meant to mock the situation and how he kept reminding her that she wasn't complaining about their earlier moments. Instead, she had just given him more material to brag about. She couldn't help but frown at his comment. "Only most of the time? Gee, thanks." Only irresistible most of the time? Well, she wasn't offended at all. "It's not that I don't like it, I just don't like it right now." Important distinction. Any other day, Danielle loved that about him - she pretended it annoyed her sometimes, but on the contrary, it amused her greatly.

The golden question, what was left to minimize? The answer, Danielle couldn't be certain. She was hopeful that there was still something they could do, to balance their karma. But realistically, those chances looked pretty slim. Perhaps, it was just that Danielle was just afraid of the karma that would eventually get them. Believing there was a solution was easier than admitting that nothing could be done. So, her head hung low as she nodded a no. Defeat had finally come to claim its place. "I didn't tell you because..." was it so easy for him to just ask for what he needed? Clearly, Danielle would benefit from learning few more things from him."Okay fine..I'm sorry."

It was finally over, the great war. Logan looked as exhausted as she felt, life drained out of her. "No..I know. I...know constant reminders shouldn't be needed. But, a reminder every now and then doesn't hurt. At least for me I guess." Communicating, that was good. Right? Their exhaustion definitely helped, they were calmer and no snarky remarks in sight. She bit her bottom lip, a shoddy attempt to keep her lips from quivering so much. Her eyes were wide with surprise, hoping he would tell her otherwise. That he'd deny what was running through her mind right now. She wasn't sure what she'd do if he said he was trying to push her away. "I don't want to go ever..so please, just don't push me away please." She was pleading with him, though her words were quiet. It wasn't stupid though, more like their guilt messing with them once more. "And I love you Lo, I really do."

Danielle's heart felt broken, pieces laying everywhere. She had ruined them with one sentence. She was thanking her lucky stars that they didn't keep yelling, that they stood on the ledge and stepped back before taking the dive. Logan stepped closer and she found it impossible to step back. Her eyes fluttered shut as he cupped her face, his touch bringing a melancholic comfort to her. "You won't lose me...because I simply can't let you go. I.." a small sigh escaped her. "I have a lot to make up to you as well." Mostly for today's fight, it wasn't lost on her...the nasty things she said. Still, she nodded to let him know, that she believed him. She always would. The look in his eyes devastated her, what had she done? His arms around her left her frozen for a moment. Their last hug felt like an eternity ago. And yes, earlier - she couldn't fathom the idea of being this close to him, but all that anger had been extinguished. It had finally died down, and she was afraid that if she didn't embrace him, she'd collapse here. After a few seconds, she reached out - her arms wrapping around him tightly, forgetting about gentle. Danielle needed to feel him close, needed to communicate how sorry she was. How much she wished she could take it all back. "I know..I believe you." First fight and they weren't even official yet. She found some comfort in knowing they were not typically fighters, but this was all new territory. They've never been anything other than friends. Would things change as their relationship did too? "You're right, we'll be okay...I'll do better."

[lady-of-tearshed]

Temporary

Pairing: Azris

Summary: Just a cozy morning between secretly mated Azris... they're adorable. This takes place before the IC boys annual snowball fight. 🥰

Word count: 1.4k words

Warnings: Mention of sex, mention of oral sex, brooding, slight/almost IC "hate" (Eris is a hater, apologies. Tho he does not 😚)

A/N: Aaaah Azris, my heart. This is my first time writing a homosexual pairing, so, yay? Yay! Anyways! Tell me your thoughts, I'm really excited about sharing this one with yall. 💕 ALSO! Let December, the merriest month of the year (in my modest opinion), BEGIN!

If you want to see what Eris... jumper looks like in the fic below, click here!

Dividers made by @tsunami-of-tears ❤️

The sound of crackling fire doesn’t send ripples of raw terror down Azriel’s spine anymore. His hands don't start shaking at the mere sight of a flame, and it doesn’t make him recall the way the fire had licked the skin off his hands as his brothers laughed devilishly.

No, not anymore. Now, Azriel has found a way, someone, who makes him see the flames as other than fear and danger. Now, he can enjoy the warmth it provides him. He can even just watch how the flame dances in the fireplace and just relax. Enjoy. Admire its beauty…

And the person who managed to accomplish this Gods damn miracle is currently curled around Azriel’s pillow, their and Azriel's scent filling the room. It's a perfect combination of warm cider and cinnamon, with a hint of cloves mixed with Azriel’s night-chilled mist and cedar unique scent. The smell clings to the bedsheets, much to Azriel’s delight. It probably will stay that way for a few more days, hopefully. This scent, his mate's scent, his lover’s scent, Eris scent.

Warmth flooded Azriel’s chest, and he stills. The feeling of the bond in his chest still makes him unsteady. Hasn't quite gotten used to the way Eris feels through the bond, nor had he mastered to control the massive waves of emotions he sometimes sends down his mate's side.

The Illyrian steps closer to the bed, keeping his footsteps light and discreet. He sits down beside Eris' sleeping form, his eyes roaming over his utterly naked skin. The light coming from the fire burning in front of Azriel's bed dances over Eris’ freckled back, casting the most enticing shadows on his skin. Azriel sucks in a breath, Eris looks like a God. The Mother herself must envy the male, honestly.

Azriel, unlike Eris, is dressed and almost ready to leave the house. Today, Azriel has planned to leave his secluded flat and fight the frigid weather of the largest peak of Velaris mountains. Today, like every year since centuries, he would not only have to fight the cold and the wind, but also his brothers’ ruthlessness.

Azriel is anticipating his 200th snowball fight victory this year, and hopes to get it over with soon, so he can just crawl back in bed with his favorite redhead to claim his prize.

Fuck the birchin, he would most likely get kicked out anyway. Thoughts of Eris haunt his days and nights now, and the heat of the birchin would just remind him of the heat emitting from his mate’s body when his mouth parts open and Azriel is buried deep in-

“Az, this is an ungodly hour to have these kinds of thoughts,” Eris grumbles, rolling over to face Azriel. His amber eyes meets Azriel’s. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Azriel responds, his voice barely above a whisper. His scarred hand reaches down, and cradles Eris' cheek. “I didn’t want to wake you up.” His thumb traces the freckles on his cheekbone, the softness of Eris’ face makes Azriel shiver. Eris' lips twitch with amusement, his eyelids still heavy with sleep. And Cauldron boil and fry him, Azriel has to fight every instinct in order to keep his clothes on and not claim Eris' pretty mouth with his cock right here and then.

If Rhysand isn’t already growing suspicious of his spymaster's behavior, he would definitely suspect something is going on if Azriel fails to attend their traditional snowball fight without warning them. He can't allow Rhysand to start questioning him, because Eris would kill Azriel for that. Not quite literally, at least. But he would be greatly displeased.

It’s not that Eris wants to keep it a secret forever. No. Eris is a jealous, and quite possessive male. He truly wants nothing more than to make the world know that Azriel is his. Problem is, with his new High Lord position and Autumn closed-minded population, announcing it publicly could create chaos. Eris cannot allow that to happen. His Court is still weak, courtiers are constantly on a rotation, people are tense… A bad reaction to this news could quickly degenerate. Eris still has to build some trust and respect amongst his court, and change a few things up before publicly announcing his mating bond with a male. A male and an Illyrian.

Azriel gets Eris' point of view, and he respects this. Eris considers himself the luckiest male in Prythian for that. Just comprehension and respect, no questions, no pushing.

Though sometimes when Eris is away, he looks at the stars and moon and wonders if this was the right decision. He also wonders how much longer? How much longer until he can truly be free, until he can stop hiding? On darkest days, like when he has to stay away from Azriel for over a week or so because of his High Lord responsabilities, he wonders if Azriel will get bored of hiding. Wonders if he'll get tired of waiting, and end this, the special thing that they have. Eris’ most prized treasure. He wonders what, and if, and why…

A pinch on Eris' cheek snaps him out of his thoughts. “You’re scowling.”

Eris' nose scrunches and frowns. He hates that Azriel can so easily read him. He also hates that he makes Azriel worry, he wants to make him happy when they're together, not stressed or worried about him because he can't stop brooding. “Yeah, because that’s my jumper you’re wearing.” He lies easily. Azriel doesn't notice.

“Jumper?” Azriel looks down, pulling at the navy and dark orange fabric. “You call that a jumper?”

“What do you call it?”

Azriel chuckles and just shrugs. “I don’t know. Like, a sweater? A pullover?”

“That sounds like a cheap piece of clothing. A jumper is fancy.” Eris protests, pulling the sheets further up his body and crossing his arms.

“Yes, yes. Very fancy, my heart.” Azriel leans in, and pampers Eris' scowling face with kisses. Eris looks like a ruffled angry bird, which makes Azriel laugh once more. Before Eris can snap at him for making fun of him, Azriel leans down and nips at the tip of his nose before pulling away. “I have to go now.”

“With my jumper on?”

Azriel halts. He feels the heat creeping up his cheeks. He rolls his neck, trying to ease the unease that settled in the muscles there. “Uh, yeah. Is that… okay?”

Eris props himself up on his elbows and stares. Azriel has to force his eyes to stay focused on Eris’ face, else they will venture down to stare at the sheet dropping dangerously low to his waist. Eris bites his lip, his eyes still assessing Azriel. Eris looks at him up, then down, without any ounce of shame. After what feels like an eternity, Eris just shrugs. “Yeah. Let the ba…”

Azriel's stare hardens, giving Eris a warning. So Eris thinks before continuing what he was about to say, wisely choosing his words. Not without rolling his eyes first, he tries again. “Let your… friends, I guess, know that a delicious smelling person shares your life now. I don’t mind. Just… don’t tell them everything, please. Not now.”

Azriel nods, and before Eris can start to justify himself, he shuts him up by placing his lips on his. He kisses him slowly, savoring the few minutes he has left before he really has to go. When they break apart, reluctantly, Eris' cheeks are tinted with the prettiest shade of pink. “Will you still be there when I come back?” Azriel asks.

Eris chews his lip and runs his hand through his messy auburn curls. “Maybe. I don’t know. I have… stuff waiting for me in Autumn. So… I don't think so. I'll see.”

Azriel nods, though he would have prefered a more certain answer. Because what else can he do about that?

This– the bond–is still new for both of them, but Azriel would be lying if he said he wouldn’t love to have his mate here, in his small apartment, in his bed every day of his immortal life. But he understands. Plus, this is all just a temporary situation. At the moment, Eris has responsibilities, more than ever since he became High Lord. He has a court to rebuild and… hounds waiting for him to get back to them, spoil them and care for them.

Does Azriel feel a bit jealous of the hounds? No. Maybe? Just a little bit. “Alright,” He hesitates, then asks Eris, “Will you come back?”

No matter how many times Eris makes his way back to Azriel, the fear of losing him forever always lingers in the shadowsinger's head. So Azriel always asked, just to be sure, and Eris never questioned. He simply smiles fondly at him and speaks the truth like he always does. “Always.”

Taglist: @mybestfriendmademe @lilah-asteria @acotar-lover @paige0103