#I couldn’t get this out of my head IT HAD TO BE DONE

[wosofutbolfan]

I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar

Alexia Putellas x Explorer!R

8.5k Fluff, Fun, Minor Angst

Hi Guys,

This is pt4. in the 'I Would Climb Every Mountain With You" otherwise known as Explorer!R Universe. TW: description of killing an animal.

Highly recommend you read those 3 first, as this is entrenched in lore. Pt 1 can be found here.

It's developed from an ask I received from @karsonromanoff so thank you so much for the idea! I hope I did it justice and I'm sorry for the delay and the words. ha.

This is the first time I've written since my dad died. I'm not being emo or heavy about it but I am asking to please, be kind. I know there's nice people out there but often they're drowned out by the loud haters.

So throw us a comment, like or reblog if you enjoyed. I'm just trying to get back into something that brought me joy. I know I enjoyed writing it.

Also, may be weird for a fic about a spanish gay footballer, but you probably need a good working knowledge of Bear Grylls to understand 80% of this. ha.

As has become tradition, here's the song running though my head when writing! Yes, my music taste remains to be that of someone born in 1962. God love Helen Reddy.

“Vamos Ale! I don’t like to make Miguel wait…” you shout from the kitchen, bag resting on the countertop as you try to fix your bracelet with your left hand,

“Deja de preocuparte, a él no le importa, I will be one minute…” you head called back from the bedroom where your wife had been getting dressed for 2 hours now.

Yes.

Your wife.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe it.

Sometimes the weight of the band on your finger catches you by surprise and you’d remember.

Sometimes Alexia would place her hand on your bare thigh and you could feel the cool metal on your skin and you’d remember.

Sometimes you’d get called “Mrs Putellas” at a school talk, or at the Doctors, and you’d remember.

It felt so natural that sometimes you’d forget that you weren’t always Alexia's wife.

But now you are. And had been for almost 6 months. And married life couldn’t have suited you more.

Your wedding ring was your new favourite accessory, you never took it off.

In a fire you would save Alexia and your ring.

Maybe even your ring first.

It was embossed with the imprint of grass that Alexia has been collecting from each pitch of each game she had played in since you had met. The intricate design brought tears to your eyes as soon as you saw it. Made even worse by the inscription “’cause you are my goal”. 

You would be embarrassed if Alexia hadn’t cried like a toddler when you presented her with the ring you had made for her, which had rock from each of the 7 peaks you had scaled, as well as a granule of sand from the Dead Sea set within it. Integrated into the metal, visible but smooth to the touch. 

The inscription 'every mountain high, every valley low' on the inside of the band.

You knew you’d done good and you knew your Ale well enough to anticipate the absolute mess she would be when presented with it, ensuring you had a pocket full of tissues for the inevitable waterfall.

You weren’t wrong.

You had to assure a passing couple on the trail you had chosen that she was fine, not having a medical incident and you were definitely not mid break-up but in fact exchanging wedding bands early because you knew your fiance well enough she didn’t need her teammates to witness this much of her soft side.

Though you tried, they still saw enough on your wedding day to tease her for the last 6 months with no sign of slowing down.

Though right now your wife's behaviour was nothing but unexpected. You had agreed to attend one of Alexia's events this evening. Since getting married you had felt more of a duty to attend and make up for the years you’d left her carrying her own handbag whilst you trotted over mountains on the other side of the world. 

She insisted that you didn’t have to. Like she always did. You weren’t one for the fancy dresses and the flashing cameras. But you saw the gleam of hope in her eyes as she insisted she would be fine on her own.

You couldn’t let that sparkle dim.

Also you had to set off for a camp in a few days and you had gotten seriously stuck in the honeymoon phase meaning that an evening without your wife by your side wasn’t something you could stomach.

Not that you would admit to being so clingy.

But it wasn’t like Ale to take so long to get ready, neither of you being particularly fussy, usually she would throw on some light makeup, smack your bum whilst you ate nutella off a knife under the hob light, procrastinating getting ready until she dragged you and dropped you into the ensuite, steal a kiss and a spray of perfume, and wait for you whilst watching old football clips in the living room.

But now, as you still struggled to attach the clasp of your bracelet and you had one eye on the poor Barca driver, Miguel, waiting in your driveway, you started to grow frustrated at your wife's sudden vanity.

You smelt her perfume invading your senses as you felt her arms envelope you from behind, moving your uncoordinated left hand away and easily attaching the clasp of your bracelet for you, pressing a kiss to your neck as she did so.

“Finalmente… Let’s g-...” you spoke as you turned in her embrace, finally taking in her attire which stopped you in your tracks.

“Boobs”

You had suddenly turned into a 14 year old boy and you couldn’t explain it.

You had seen your wife naked hundreds of times.

Hundreds of fantastic times.

But here she stood looking, regal. Her hair falling lightly over her face, her dark sparkly dress with wide shoulders and only what you could describe as a boob portal you had been rendered speechless. Mouth gaping open like a fish.

“...Amor?...” you heard the delight in her voice. “Are you listening to me… my eyes are up here.” she jokingly clicked her fingers in front of your face which took you out of your breast-inspired trance.

“Ale you are so beautiful” you looked deeply into her eyes but you didn’t miss the blush rising from her neck. And you meant it. She was. Wow. 

“Do you like it?” she asked, shyly, “You don’t think it’s too much? It’s just the first event we’ve gone to together since we got married and I wanted to…”

You interrupt her but pressing a kiss to her lips, and, well, if you slipped a little tongue in there then fine. She was your wife after all.

“What? Show the world what they're missing out on? I am so proud to stand by your side, my love.” you whispered into her lips, as you toyed with her wedding band. 

You couldn’t help yourself…”and your boobs are fantastic.” 

She barked out a laugh as you leaned back into where you left off, but she took a step back, her heel clicking against the tile floor, to which you let out an annoyed grumble.

“Oi Oi, Mi Amor. What about poor Miguel, he is waiting, Si?” she teased.

“He doesn’t care… Cálla y bésame.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You took a deep breath and leaned back on your chair at the round table you found yourself at. Alexia had been pulled from your side which she had stuck to like glue all evening,  to go and present the final award of the evening which she had just done, very sexily if you do say so yourself. All confident and boob-y.

You smiled, imagining her now making small talk backstage, eyes bored but a smile plastered on her face as she tried to make her way back to your table.

Your other table-mates seemed to take the opportunity of the break in the ceremony to raid the free bar put on by the charity. Which seemed very uncharitable of them. But, as you toyed with the rim of your glass, who were you to judge?

Stomach full from a mediocre-mass produced meal and head happily fuzzy from the bubbles you had consumed you found yourself oddly satisfied as you sat here. In this conference room-turned auditorium in the middle of Barcelona, here, loudly and proudly as Alexia's wife.

Mrs Putellas.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, you felt weirdly grown-up. With your wife, your house, and your business. You blinked and missed yourself becoming so settled and for once in your life you weren’t terrified of the idea.

You saw the glint in Alexia's eye. When Irene and her wife would come round for dinner and bring their kid. She’d surrender all hostess duties and sit on the living room floor, crawling around at the beck and call of whatever imaginary game the 5 year old insisted on. You’d seen her perfect her lion roar in that very spot. It probably matched the glint in yours when you were grocery shopping and a child being pushed in a trolley would go past shoving cookies into the trolley without their Mother seeing.

Maybe, you thought, maybe it was time…

“It is you! I am so sorry to interrupt. I had to come over to introduce myself. I am such a fan…”

You glanced around, expecting Alexia to be standing over your shoulder and smiling politely at the person who had approached your table to meet her… but you were met with blank space and then you engaged your silly brain and realised the person was speaking English and looking at you and…

Oh My God.

It’s Bear Grylls.

“Oh My God. You’re Bear Grylls.” 

You let out. 

Stupidly.

Standing and thrusting your hand out like an idiot to your legitimate childhood hero.

You and your brother would watch his series for hours as children. Sat cross-legged 2 inches from the TV on your living room floor, eating up every second of his adventures. Your mum had to stop you from eating a woodlouse once in your garden because you’d seen him eat a cricket in the Amazon the evening before. Your brother smacked upside the head for trying to drink a cup of his own wee for the same reason.

Now you were a well-seasoned adventurer yourself you knew that all of that was for theatricks. 

You had spent more than 7 weeks wandering the Amazon yourself once, and not one drop of urine passed your lips. Not one 8 legged insect had you gulped down in one.

But still.

Hero.

He took your hand graciously, as you both sat back down you prepared to barrage him with questions but before you could he jumped right in…

“I have been wanting to meet you for years. But my team said you had disappeared off to Spain and couldn’t be tracked down. Please, I've been desperate to know. .. Tell me all about summiting Orjas del Salado…”

So you told him, and you asked him about his adventures, and you chatted for what could have been hours, sharing stories and advice with Bear-fucking-Grylls.

He blushed as you pointed out his for-TV tricks and you thanked him for being a portal into the wider world from your living room.

At some point you felt Alexia return, a strong hand on your shoulder. You paused your monologue about Patagonia and giddily took her hand in yours, introducing them to each other. 

Polite pleasantries exchanged you could tell she had legitimately no idea what was going on or who this middle-aged English guy at your table was, but judging from your excited eyes, she didn’t need to interrupt.

It didn’t take too long for someone from his team to pull him away for an interview with the charity. But as you stood to say your goodbyes he made an offer, “You know, me and the production company are making a special about survival in the Alps… I would love for you to be a guest star.”

You stood there like a gaping fish for a moment. “Really?” you asked, in wonder, your 7 year old self spinning around in glee in your chest. Alexia smiling up at you from her chair at the joy in your voice.

“Of course! I would be honored, it’s especially about how to survive in an Avalanche situation. Obviously, with what happened in Nepal…you are an expert in that fie…”

At that point, Alexia stopped her polite silence she had been maintaining whilst you had your moment with your childhood hero. And abruptly stood, clutching your hand hard in both of hers, stern look on her face.

“No.”

From the look on his face you gathered that this successful upper-middle class white English man had not been told no too often, and a beat of silence followed which Alexia was more than happy to fill.

“Sorry Señor Oso. She doesn’t do snow now. Thank you for the offer though.”

She said it with such finality that even you didn’t think to question it. Her mis-translation brought a smile to your face. Her hands still encompassed yours, her eyes didn’t leave his face. As though daring him to rebuff her.

He looked at you as though to confirm she could answer for you. Of course she could. But you knew this refusal wasn’t just about you, but about her also. You knew the anxiety it would cause her for you to put yourself in that situation wasn’t worth anything on this planet.

Nevermind the trauma it would dredge up for you. So obviously, you agreed.

“Sorry Mr Grylls. Not my rodeo anymore. I’ve got some contacts though who you could work with” you politely confirmed your refusal and felt Alexias hands lessen their grip on yours in relief.

“No, no, of course. Sorry. But no. I would really love for you to be involved in the series. We have an episode about promoting women in outdoor pursuits. It's still on the drawing board, but if you are interested I’ll get our people to liaise with each other!”

“That sounds amazing but… I don’t have any people for you to…”

“Don’t be silly Mi Amor” Alexia interrupts again, hand still in yours and the other expertly reaching into her clutch and pushing a card into his outstretched hand… “We have people. Please, Oso, be in touch.”

Smiling vaguely and confusedly at your wife, still clearly mildly terrified of her, he takes the card as he's dragged away by his handler. He's probably still in hearing distance as you squeal in glee and throw yourself into your wife's arms, making her spin with the momentum.

“Ale, Ale, Ale!!! Do you know who that was….” you exclaim.

She can’t help but laugh aloud at your antics, soft look on her face as she lifts you lightly off the ground to stop your spin.

“Si Mi Amor, ese era el hombre oso de la televisión. Tu favorito.” she replies with a smile on her face, speaking softly, somehow, in the middle of this event where she was the guest star, making you feel as though you were the only person in the universe.

“No.” you corrected “..eres mi favorito.” You sealed your words with a light kiss to her lips, chaste but warm.

“Ah, Si. And you have had some wine. You always get soft after wine.” she lightly rolls her eyes with affection at your gushing over her.

It’s your turn to roll your eyes as you pull her into a soft sway, your childhood hero quickly forgotten now you’re in the company of your wife.

Though the giddiness in your bones from your encounter remains.

“Si the wine.” you agree moving your lips close to her ear as you whisper, breath dancing against her cheek, your hand moves to her chest and you feel her breath falter at your closeness,

“but also your boobs.” and you quickly poke her exposed chest between her breasts before she can stop you, and you move away from her pulling her behind you as you rush off to the bar.

“Amor!” she cackles.

“Vamos Ale! A La Barra!”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Estoy Muerta.”

You grumble in complaint into the chest of the warm and moving pillow that you had clearly settled on in the night.

“Shh Ale.”

“Me estoy muriendo y a mi esposa no le importa.”

“You are not dying Ale. You are hungover and over 30”, you mumble in reply, moving away from resting on her chest, the heat becoming too much for your own fuzzy brain.

“Explain to me how that is different.” she doesn’t take kindly to your light chuckle in reply, as you move your hand to cover your eyes from the sunlight starting to bleed through the curtains.

You peek an eye open and see the remnants of your previous night strewn across the bedroom floor.

You take in the glorious dress of your wifes thrown across your chest of drawers. You recall unzipping it with your mouth after making very good use of the boob portal. Much to Alexia's delight.

You had probably taken it a little bit too far at the bar. Your giddiness let your binge-drinking brit out a little too much.

You had a flash of memory at dancing on a table at a dive bar in the town centre, before being brought down by Alba who you had called and demanded come and dance the night away.

Meanwhile Alexia had been in the corner trying to drunkenly explain to Mapi a set of complicated tactics that they should try out at an additional training session in the morning.

“I thought you had scheduled extra training today Ale” you teased after taking in her pasty complexion as you rolled over and settled back down onto your, cooler, side of the bed.

“I hate you.” she replied, quite seriously, as she moulded herself against your back, taking your hand in hers and burying her face into the back of your neck.

“Of course you do, dear, it feels like it.” you tease again, wiggling yourself and making her grumble again.

You rest there for a few moments, before you’re dragged onto your back again and pulled into Alexia's embrace as she moves you around like her own personal teddy bear.

You go with the flow, quite used to your wife's clingy nature, especially when she didn't feel well.

But your silence doesn’t last two minutes before she rolls you over again, now onto your back, “Oh bloody hell, where are we going now.” you mumble, as she rests her head on your chest this time, nuzzling into your breasts.

“me estoy poniendo cómodo.” she mutters into your bosom, “allá. ahora estoy cómodo”. You run your hands through her hair, smiling down at your wife who is practically purring at the attention.

“Bebé…”, you make a noise of affirmation.

“Will you…” you know what she wants, and you know she must be feeling bad if she’s asking for attention.

“Si, my love. voy a trenzar tu cabello. One big plait or lots of little ones?”. 

“The tingly ones por favor” she mumbles into your chest. Your heart expands at her adorableness, never quite learning the English for ‘french plait’ they became known as the ‘tingly ones’ in your household, because of the feeling she would get as you plaited her wet hair after a game, hands working through her scalp. 

It brings a smile to your face and you can see the lovesick smile on hers where it is squished against your chest.

You start to section out her hair as she lies still, your ministrations slowly putting her to sleep, working methodically in the quiet morning.

Moving strand over strand in intricate braids, lightly tugging her scalp and undoing when it's not perfect and redoing, giving her an extra scratch to the soft skin behind her ear when you get there, knowing it's her most sensitive spot. Receiving a sleepy purr in satisfaction as your reward.

You hear the animals from the national park outside, feel the sun starting to warm the room around you. Her chest rising and falling against yours hypnotising you further into the moment. You’ve got grand plans, brunch and a walk along the beach in your mind, maybe a lazy afternoon swim, hold on no. Maybe a lazy afternoon skinny dip. Yeah.

That sounds good.

You’ve almost finished tying off the last plait when you are startled back into the moment by the buzzing of your wifes phone on the bedslide table.

You fight back a smile at the groan that is emitted from your fully grown-pro-athlete-wife.  It resembled that of a teenager who’d been asked to clean their room or no dessert. When she doesn’t go to make a move you nudge her shoulder.

“Ale. Ale, your phone."

“No.”

“Yes."

“No."

“C'mon Ale.” you reach across and pick the phone up. “It could be important. It could be your secret wife wondering where you are.”

She rolls off you at your tease, throwing you a glare that resembles more of an angry kitten than anything, “It could not be, she knows where I am. I snuck out whilst you were dancing on the tables in that last bar to make plans for dinner.”

“Ah, Si of course. My mistake.”

She surges up and gives you a completely unnecessary chaste kiss, as though even the joke is too much and she has to confirm she’s kidding. The phone has stopped vibrating against the bedside table and the silence that settles over you both is welcome.

“How are you so okay? I feel like I have been run over by a truck.” she states as she rubs her face, finally sitting up to start the day.

“You are old.

“I am 2 months older than you.”

“Two, very long, months my darling.” you tap her cheek lightly as you move to get out of bed, throwing on one of her oversized t-shirts you find on the floor.

“Seria, how?” she asks again, now sprawling across the space you have vacated.

“I am English. I once did a vodka shot through my eyeball in the park. I was 14.” you state, plainley, eyebrow raised in challenge as she just looks at you, open mouthed.

“Ojalá no hubiera preguntado.” she mutters, as her phone starts to ring again.

“Ale, phone.” you say, just to annoy her.

“¡lo sé!” you hear thrown at you, as you head downstairs to set some food out for Billy-the-Goat, and make a coffee for your dying wife.

Soon after, you feel her presence behind you as you stir her coffee, turning as you feel her hands wrap around your waist and presenting her coffee and she takes it from you as though it's a ballon d’or. She takes a sip before she presses a kiss to your head.

“That was my agent.”

Your heart drops, and you can’t help the petulant whine that leaves your lips.

“No, Ale! I wanted to spend the day together. Try that new brunch place Alba told us about. Have a swim, just be together. Whatever brand needs you can wait. Tell them no, please” you finish your little monologue with a pout, and you feel a childish frustration rise as a laugh teases against her lips.  You don’t get very far when a kiss is pressed against your lips.

“Well that sounds like the perfect hangover cure Mi Amor. Do you not want me to tell you what it is before I tell them no though?” there's something in her taunt, a glint in the eye that makes you think twice as your mouth already wraps around the refusal.

You take a moment too long apparently, and she takes things into her own hands as she clutches her coffee happily and spins around, “I’ll tell them no! Don’t worry Mi Amor…” teasing lilt in her tone. Whatever the news is, it has pulled her from her hangover.

You wait a beat

Another.

“Fine, What is it!” you groan out in defeat, hands raised to the sky, Alexias t-shirt riding high on your thighs as you raise your arms.

Your wife turns and is distracted momentarily by the flesh on display. Before you cough and she remembers what she's supposed to be doing. Coy smile on her face returning.

“That was my agent…” you huff out at her drawing out the anticipation. “Or should I say our agent.” your brow furrows in confusion as she continues… “she has been contacted by a muy interesado oso.”

Realisation starts to dawn on you, memories of the previous night flashing in your mind and you can’t help the grin that forms.

“Si, Mi Amor. It turns out he really meant it. She said they were willing to offer anything to get you on. She’s getting the details now and will contact us again after our day together today to see if you are interested”.

“I am interested!” you exclaim with glee, Alexia throwing her head back in laughter.

“I know Amor, but let's let them sell it to you. You need the details. Though… I am sure it is no more dangerous than ojos de vodka.”

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hola, love!” you shout into your empty hallway, hands full of groceries, you shuck off your trainers, hearing them thump against the wall as you struggle into the kitchen.

Tonight was the premiere of “Man Vs Woman” , the special episode of your and Bear's adventure. After the offer was made you met with the TV production company via Zoom to go through ideas.

You pretended you didn’t know Alexia was standing just outside the door to your study, listening and clearly deciding if she thought it was too dangerous or not. At least that's what you deduced from her interrupting with a cup of tea every time a particularly hairy idea was mentioned.  

When you brought this up with her you pretended you didn't see her blush creeping up from her neck. Because you’re her wife and it was the wifely thing to do.

The concept was a really cool one. You were excited from the start. The idea was that you and Bear would both be dropped in an inhospitable environment with a map and a knife and nothing else. Neither of you would be told what type of environment but you had assurances in your contract that it wouldn’t involve snow. You had 28 days to get to the muster point. Whoever got there first won.

Simple.

Convincing Alexia it was really cool. Less simple.

“Amor what if there are animals!”

“I know how to avoid dangerous animals. And there will be a medical team on standby,”

“What if you fall and cut yourself on your knife."

“What if you get tackled and break your leg?”

“That's different. What if you lose your map and can’t find your way out and you have to live out there forever”

“I will always find my way back to you.”

“What If-”

“Ale.”

You stopped her rambling with a kiss and when you pulled away you looked deeply in her eyes.

“Que pasa I miss you too much?” eyes wide and vulnerable.

There we go. Her real source of anxiety.

You had spent more time apart than most couples but since you scaled down your travels you had fallen into a sweet domesticity you could admit was a struggle to pull yourself from. 28 days plus the week before to get to the location is longer than you’d like. But it was an adventure of a lifetime. Maybe… maybe your last adventure? The thoughts had been creeping in more and more recently.

Of early mornings chasing more than sunrises, maybe rising due to a baby's babble instead?

You’d made sure that Alexia really knew how much you’d miss her the night before you flew out. On reflection maybe you should have rested your muscles a little more before such a physically demanding month but. Be serious. Look who your wife was. 

You are not God's strongest soldier.

So, off you had gone. Competing against your childhood hero for all of womanhood. And you couldn’t lie. You loved it.

Being blindfolded and dropped in an unknown location was exhilarating. Learning the land as you went, with only a map and a knife in hand it was one of the biggest challenges of your life.

The team had made good on their promise and the tropical rainforest you were in couldn’t be further from a snowy mountain range.

You’d refused to let anything slip to Alexia in the 3 months you’d been back. Lips tightly sealed no matter what she tried. You wanted her to be surprised and watch it in real time with you. In all the games you'd attended since you had to deal with an injured Mapi yapping your ear off whilst you tried to concentrate on the game, probing for hints about if you won, what you won, where you were, if you wrestled a snake, how big was the snake you’d wrestled.

“Maria stop with the snake!” you’d finally snapped during the tense quarter final of the Queen's cup.

Which had worked.

For all of two seconds.

“What did the snake taste like?”

You’d originally planned to go home to England with Alexia to watch the premier with your family. But then a schedule mess-up in the league had meant that Ale had to play in a rescheduled game the day after the premier. It just didn’t work for her to come to England.

She insisted you still go, but you refused. You wanted to watch her game. And you knew she’d need you when the show was on. Even if she didn’t know that yet.

You started to unpack your groceries mindlessly, you’d picked some great snacks for the evenings viewing, you suddenly were hit with how suspiciously peaceful your house was, though, you were sure you’d seen Alexia's car in the drive.

“Ale! Love!, ¡Estoy en casa! Come help me unpack!” You shouted into your empty kitchen, back turned to your living room, you had a few hours before the show was on air, “I got that ice-cream you like! I know it gives you a tummy ache sometimes but don’t worry, I'll rub your tummy how you like afte…”

“Amor!”

You turned around at the panic in her voice, “Wha–”

“SURPRISE!”

Ale stood in your living area, face reddening, surrounded by her closest Barca teammates as well as Mario, his ever pregnant wife and his kids, your mum and brother as well as Eli and Alba. Everyone comically in paper party hats and some lop-sided bunting was up above your couch,

“HOPE YOU BEAT THE BEAR SNAKE!” it read, and you immediately knew who was on the decoration committee.

You jumped in surprise, dropping the ice cream and immediately ran into your mum's open arms, “Mum! You’re here!” you squealed into her neck, hiding the tears that had appeared in her presence.

“I am, love. Alexia literally wouldn’t let us refuse the flight. She pretended she didn’t understand English when we tried to at least pay for it. And you know I have a 265 day streak on duolingo but my accent must need work because she didn’t understand my Spanish.”

You pulled yourself from her neck with a wet laugh and transferred yourself into your wifes open and familiar strong arms. “Aleeee” you whined. She knew you meant thank you. And I love you. And you mean the world to me. But you were too British to do that infront of people.

“You need to stop pretending you don’t speak English when you don’t like what you hear.” you muttered without malice after placing a kiss below her ear.

“I know amor. I love you too. And your family needed to be here for your big moment! You couldn’t miss this with them because of me. And then also. Mapi happened and now we’re having a viewing party! There's a cake!”

“And Ice Cream Ale! Don’t worry, I’ve saved it! Though we don’t want your barriga to hu-” Mapi stands the space you'd just vacated holding up the abandoned and slightly battered carton of ice cream. She's stopped from her gleeful teasing by Ingrid covering her entire face with one big palm.

“We wanted to be here to support you.” Ingrid interrupted her girlfriend, addressing you kindly.

“We all did!” you hear from Alba in the back, already tucking into the buffet set up on the coffee table, paper hat skew-whiff on her head. You have never felt so loved. It was perfect.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So, when are you going to tell her you’re ready for them?”

You are brought out of your daydream by Ingrid sidling up to you and addressing you with her familiar soft lilt.

“Huh?”

She doesn’t reply vocally, just nods her head towards your wife, who is currently having a very intense game of 2v2 in your garden with 2 of Marios youngest and Mapi.

The kids little legs making them toddle around after the small ball adorably, Mapi and Ale giving soft touches they would easily catch up with.

You can’t help but laugh out loud as Ale takes Mapi by surprise and takes a shot against her hard, the ball catching her bare thigh in a manner which must have left a sting much to the small Spaniard's disdain.

Her and the two kids start to chase Alexia around the garden, dramatically tackling her as she suddenly becomes some sort of football monster, rolling around and blowing raspberries on their stomachs as Mapi cheers her toddler army on from the sidelines.

You feel another knock against your arm, dislodging your hand which is supporting your head as you lean over the breakfast bar facing the garden. Lovesick looks clearly on your face, going off Ingrid's coy smile.

“You know, barn. Kids. Munchkins…”

“Yeah, Yeah I get it Ingrid…” you steal another look outside at your more-often-than-not-stern wife getting grass stains on her comfy shorts for the entertainment of your best friends' kids, suddenly you feel like being really really honest. You turn to Ingrid with a shy smile of your own, “soon.”

Her face lights up, teeth on display unable to disguise her smile. “Yeah?” she asks, before turning to look towards the garden, “Me too.”

You smile to yourself and drop your head onto the dark haired girl's shoulder, you both taking a moment to watch your partners play with the kids. The moment is ruined by your mum mussing up your hair on her way past,

“Come on Love, we need to wrangle these last-minute spaniards, it starts in 10 minutes!”

She had a point to be fair. A very chaotic 8 minutes later you practically push Eli into her seat on the couch after she tries to get another plate full of food for Mario’s wife, “¡Está llena de Eli! ella esta embarazada no tiene hambre!” you cheekily remind her, your wife looking up at you from her place on the floor with tender eyes.

“And you…” you turn your attention towards her as you make your way to your seat, “get up here.” you demand, patting the empty space next to you.

“I’m bueno down here Mi Amor, me and Bruno can watch from down here.” she insists. the 4 year old of Marios nestled on her stomach, her arms wrapped around his sleeping form where he attached himself to her after being forced back inside.

You hesitate for a moment, not watching to make a scene or be too needy in front of all your closest family and friends, but you knew that Ale would need to be within touching distance of you in the next hour. 

You’re about to make your peace with it when Mario glaces your way. You and Mario have worked together for years. Years before you met Ale and the girls.

You’ve battled more than just bears together. Weeks spent isolated in the mountains. And a bond like that means that you can communicate with just a look.

With just that glance he’s up and pulling his toddler into his own burley arms. Bruno remaining in his deep sleep through the change.

“I’ve got el monstruo Ale. Go sit with your wife."

She doesn’t need any more direction, the small interaction is subtle and missed by everyone, except your brother who sends you an exaggerated puppy dog look.

“Fuck off” you throw at him, finger in the air, quickly grabbed by Alexia, “Hey, I thought you wanted me to sit here!” she teases, sending your brother a wink.

“Stop ganging up on me…!” you’re about to protest further before you’re shushed by Mapi, of all people, sitting on the floor between Ingrid's legs who sits on the couch above her. “It's about to start!”

She has a point, a familiar British accent fills the living room, Spanish subtitles appearing on the bottom of the screen for the Spanish contingent. Bear’s voice is as dramatic as ever, long sweeping scenes fill the screen of intense jungle, a crocodile and an action shot of a snake thrown in for good measure.

“Serpiente!” Mapi shouts, pointing at the screen, before Ingrid hushes her and pulls her back against her legs. 

           “We all know by now that humans are masters of the jungle. But the unanswered question remains. Is it the King, or Queen of the Jungle? Find out tonight in Man V Woman.”

The title fills the screen with a dramatic crescendo of music. Your friends and family whooping as though it's the champions league final. Alexia barely contains her excitement next to you. You had been steadfast in your refusal to tell anyone the outcome.

The next shot is a recognisable one, the sound of trees being hacked with a machete accompanies a close up of a muddy puddle set deep in the jungle, until the water is disturbed by a ever-familiar battered boot stomping in the puddle, blaugrana laces pulled tight, as proudly as ever.

This prompts another wild round of jeering from the crowd around you as the camera pans out and reveals your full profile as Alexia places a loving kiss onto your shoulder, “That's my wife!” she shouts, proudly, making you laugh. 

Bear's voice over continues as you pull Alexia's hand into yours, half pulling her on top of you, she gives you a peculiar look, this being more PDA than you would usually allow in front of your English family, but she goes with it, too full of pride to be worried otherwise.

As the voiceover continues, highlights of your career flash across the screen to introduce you to the audience.

Mountains in Peru, Arctic Explorations, Treks across Siberia, all flash across the screen, mixed in with childhood pictures your mum must have supplied painting a picture of your career so far and your expertise in your career.

The music turns more dramatic as you shift uncomfortably, being the only one to realise in the room what's about to happen.

A picture of you smiling with Arjan at the peak of Everest, ice picks raised proudly in the air. You feel Alexia stiffen on your lap, ever so subtly. Stock footage of snow hurling down a mountain as Bear describes the avalanche you got trapped in.

He gives out stats and figures to heighten the drama… “your chance of survival drops 3% every minute you are trapped after the first 15 minutes… being trapped for 2 days… our guest star did the unthinkable…”

The room is bathed in a white light as the screen changes. Camera shaky and audio changing to the shouts and heavy breaths of whoever the body worn camera is strapped too. “Yahām̐, Yahām̐, she is here!”

The camera catches Arjan digging desperately, it's clear now the camera is strapped to a rescuer on the slopes of Everest, the TV production company having access to the footage through a sister company who were filming a documentary about altitude rescue at the time.

It shakes as the man helps dig, grunts of exertion as the spade digs desperately. A flash of colour and your snow suit is revealed, face pressed up against the rock you had found shelter near.

Arjan clears snow from your face desperately and puts his head close to yours, “She’s breathing!” he pulls you up and your hand, satellite phone frozen in place, falls from the side of your ghostly white face as the camera fades out.

The whole segment couldn’t have lasted more than 32 seconds. But it had felt like time had slowed. You could feel from her placement on you that Alexia hadn’t taken a breath. Her eyes remained wide as she stared at the screen.

There was a heaviness in the room around you. 

The voiceover continued, explaining the challenge to the audience but the silence continued. Eli glances at her daughter worriedly, every few seconds.

Just as you thought the tension couldn’t get any more intense… “That's what Alexia looks like when she visits England for Christmas and mum won’t let us put the heating on.” your brother jokes, awkwardly, a crooked smile on his boyish face. 

The room is silent, your mum hiding a smile behind a hand only you notice. He goes to speak again, probably to apologise when-

Alexias' laugh shocks even you, bubbling up from deep within her chest. She closes her eyes, a stray tear escaping at the pressure. Laugh still rumbling deep in her chest, slowly the room joins in, as though they’ve been given permission, and soon your in a choir of laughing spectators, your brother blushing deep red at the attention.

“Thank you” you mouth to him across the room, as you wrap your hands around your wife, whos body still shakes with the odd giggle.

He tips an imaginary hat at you in return.

Because he is an idiot.

The challenge begins, unhelpfully, with you throwing yourself out of a helicopter into the rainforest, “Oh Dios Mio” she mumbles, heard subtly under Mapis, “Cool!”.

You press your lips against her shoulder again and mutter into her skin; “I am here, I am warm, I am Safe.” Like a mantra, you feel her nod and grip your hand tighter.

The thing about being in the environment completely opposite to an avalanche inducing mountain range, was that it was hot. Hot and wet. The camera follows both you and Bear as you struggle through the elements seperatly, deciding when to camp down and preserve energy and when to try to gain more miles.

Bear goes hard, and Mapi looks up at you aghast as you decide to build a shelter and bunker down for seven days straight. The heat zapping any energy you had.

“What are you doing! It's a race!” she exclaims, to which you laugh and zip your mouth closed with your fingers, cocking an eyebrow at her as she eagerly looks back towards the TV like a small child.

You spend two days collecting water and, seemingly, according to Mapi, wasting time cutting palm leaves and collecting bark to make twine. Meanwhile Bear is hacking down trees, making spears out of sticks and rock and throwing himself at seemingly anything that would give him a bit of protein on the move.

You’ve ridden yourself of most of your clothing due to the heat. Smothering yourself in mud from the riverbank you were camped next to, you explain to the camera its sun-cream qualities and how it’s safer than clothing as it also protects you from dehydration. 

All the while you weave and weave and weave your leaves together, quietly, assuredly.

You explain to the camera; “I am a master weaver. My wife likes it when I plait her hair. Alot. She’s cute. Sorry Ale.” you wink at the camera as your wife groans on your lap and  her teammates start to tease her, “Amor! Why!”

“Now. Let's see how this works!”  you grin and pull up a large basket to the camera.

The screen shows you scantily dressed, boots safely on a rock in the background, in the river, moving twigs into position to make a run for the fish to swim directly into your basket.

You explain the contraception, set some bait and say your goodnights to the camera, crossing your fingers for a full basket in the morning.

Cheerful music begins as the camera fades back into your campfire, fish on a stick roasting and cooking heavenly, your muddied but smiling face coming into view.

“Bear can eat his roaches and drink his wee. I’ll be here with my fish buffet!” You joke, under your shelter, camera panning to tens of fish in your basket waiting to be smoked.

The next scene shows Bear explaining the protein benefits and the unusual flavours of a witchetty grub as he struggles against the rainstorm. 

The music begins to ramp up. Graphics on the screen showing both of your progress. Bear has made much more progress than you. But struggling physically. He’s developed a terrible case of trench foot but was still making steady progress with his machete.

You chose to travel up the river. Walking along its bed you are able to make more direct progress, but it’s more energy draining wading through water. You have, however, had a relatively strong diet over the last 3 weeks.

You’re sitting on the river bed, tending to your basket of smoked fish you’re carrying with you for energy when you suddenly remain completely stock still. Dramatic music begins. Your head raises subtly and then out of nowhere.

“Serpentine!”

A snake strikes at you from the shallows, clearly after your basket, or you, or whatever it can get its fangs in. You react quickly, crouching down to your knees, keeping a low centre of gravity to keep your balance as your right hand reaches into the shallows.

You and the snake strike at the same time, and you throw yourself to the side as you bash a jagged rock against its head.

The next scene shows you taking a mouthful of grilled snake; “Tastes like chicken!” you joke at the camera. Before popping a piece of charred snake skin into your mouth.

You feel Alexia shudder in your arms.

"I'm never kissing you again" she lies.

Mapi slowly turns around, mouth agape, gobsmacked look on her face. “Snake!” she whispers, in disbelief. “You beat a snake!” You can’t help but laugh and lean over to turn her head back to the TV.

“Told you you’d find everything out tonta.”

The map on screen shows the last day of the challenge, Bear's voice over explaining distances to the muster points, as well as geographical challenges. The screen swaps quickly between the two of you, running, climbing and swimming to where you both believed the finish line to be.

You were making good progress, as was Bear.

A close up of a Brazilian flag on the edge of a waterfall.

A close up of you throwing yourself into the river.

Bear gripping a cliff edge and heaving himself up. The camera shows the bottom of the flag pole as he pulls himself up. The camera pans up. And the flagpole is bare.

The screen changes to you.

Standing, still relatively scantily clad in your battered boots, your hiking shorts cut down to short-shorts and thin vest muddied and holey, fish blood staining your arms,holding the flag proudly up in one arm.

The room around you erupts. “She did it!” “¡Jefe de la Jungla!!!!” “I always knew!”, “She killed a snake!”. You find yourself at the bottom of a pile of bodies as Alexia's teammates celebrate in the way they know how. Which is apparently to throw themselves at you in a pile up.

“That's my wife!” Alexia chants proudly from within the pile, laughing gleefully, all earlier angst forgotten.

The screen goes blank, and the image shows you and Bear embracing, laughing as the voiceover continues; “... at least this time. It's a Queen of the jungle… or should I say. La Reina de la Jungla.” Bear quips, as Alexia groans, forever hating her nickname, and the screen cuts to black.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It’s hours later, many more plates of food, celebration toasts and questions from Mapi about the snake later. That you're finally in the quiet of your bedroom in your wife's arms.

Your mum and brother are set up in the spare rooms and you have all got plans to meet up with the Alexias family at the game tomorrow before going out for a meal.

Your head is settled on her chest as she plays on her phone above you, struggling to calm down from the evening's events, and as usual, struggling to sleep before a game.  You play with her wedding ring on her spare hand. Feeling the cool metal beneath against her warm skin.

You feel her swipe furiously through her phone, getting more agitated as time passes, grumbles that are not-quite words emitting from her chest.

“Hey. Love.” you sit up and pull her phone away. “What's the matter?”

“Nothing.” she replies, bottom lip out in a pout, pulling her phone back into her hand.

“It’s not nothing. Tell me.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Alexia.” you sigh, “We aren't doing this.. What's got you so…” you look down onto her phone and see. Yourself? It's her tiktok open and you see an edit of the show being played over… “Hot Stuff? Ale. What's this?” you glance at the comments section and see a selection from seemingly anon accounts;  

‘I have never understood Alexia more’, ‘I wonder who calls who capi.’ ,‘Capi, your wife's thighs are bigger than yours’.

“Nothing!” she grabs her phone back from your grip… you arch an eyebrow at her which crumbles her resolve in 3…2…

“Fine! It's all over my TikTok.  The comments about you. The fans have made these edits. Of you! All, wet and… muscley and… nearly undressed.”

“And you…don’t… like me wet, and muscled and… naked? Cause, love, I have evidenced otherwis…”

“Shut up! Of course I do but you're mine!”

Oh. Realisation dawns on you and you can’t help but smile.

“Don’t laugh!” she grumbles. “You’re jealous….” you tease in a sing-song voice. “I am not jealous!” she insists, “It's just… tu eres mio! And these people are all looking at you”.

“I am,” you agree, with a smile. “But, love. Try being married to Alexia Putellas. Maybe you’ll keep your shirt on at games now.” you tease, making her smile and roll her eyes.

Eyes softening as you pull her phone from her grip and plug it in for her. Settling back into her chest, nuzzling against the warm skin you find there.

“I am so proud of you.” she whispers into the now dark room, placing a kiss on your head. The moment became more serious and tender.

“I love you” you reply, softly, the moment feels weighted, and you’re not sure what makes you do it. Maybe it's the adrenaline of the evening, having completed your life's ambition, or maybe it's the wine you drank.

Though, really, you know it's because of the images of your lanky wife curling herself onto the rug in the living room because Bruno had decided she was the world's best pillow again. But you can’t stop yourself.

“Ale. I want to have kids with you.”

Her hand stops its movement in your hair and she rushes over to turn the bedside lamp back on.

“Que?” she breathes out. Hands finding their place softly on your cheeks, a look of urgency in her eyes.

“I want us to have kids. Me and you. I want that with you. Is that something you’re ready for?” you whisper, eyes looking deeply into hers.

“En serio?” she asks, as though she's afraid of the answer.

You nod in response. Moving your hand to wipe away the tears that have appeared on her cheeks.

“Sí, Mi Amor. Quiero eso contigo. Mucho.”

You're both smiling too much to kiss, but you make a good go of it anyway. And as you bury yourself into your wife's arms. Hands roaming and adrenaline of a decision made rushing through your body you can't help but think.

This is the beginning of the biggest adventure of your life. 

[kirammanswifey]

arcane characters breaking up with you x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: gosh i loovee drama i'ts so spicy and fun! btw i cried a lot with ekko's... anyways request are open, darlings ;)

reconciliation link:

Viktor

The laboratory was shrouded in a deep silence, the kind of silence that feels heavy, as if the air itself was dense, pressing down on your chest. The light from the screens flickered in the darkness, casting shadows that moved with the rhythm of the science Viktor had created. He was there, motionless in front of the table covered in blueprints, his head lowered, as if struggling with something he couldn’t share.

You stood there for a moment, watching him in silence, waiting for him to break the silence, but something in his posture told you he wouldn’t. The distance between you felt greater than you could bear, and the knot in your stomach grew heavier with each passing second. Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer.

“Viktor…” Your voice trembled, but you forced it to sound strong. Every word felt like a challenge to your own fear. “What’s going on?”

He didn’t look at you, but his shoulders tensed. The sigh that escaped his lips was full of something you couldn’t recognize. It wasn’t frustration, nor exhaustion. It was something worse, something you already feared.

“You don’t understand, do you?” he finally said, his voice low but clear. “I can’t stop now. This is bigger than us. I can’t lose what I’ve been building. The machine… the transformation… It’s the only way to save myself, to save us.”

A cold shiver ran down your spine. It couldn’t be. You were sure you must have misheard, but the words kept echoing in your head like a drumbeat. It wasn’t just about science. It wasn’t just his obsession. Viktor was pushing you away. And the pain, the pain was unbearable.

You stepped forward, your heart pounding in your throat. How could he do this to you?

“Is that all I am to you?” Your voice was a whisper, but the venom of desperation was there, cutting through your words. “An obstacle? Something you have to leave behind? All this time, everything I’ve done for you… And this is what I get?”

Finally, Viktor looked at you. But it wasn’t the look you expected. His eyes, so cold, so distant, weren’t the eyes of the person you had known. It wasn’t the Viktor you had protected, the one you had loved. It was someone else, someone who no longer saw in you what they once did.

“I do love you, you know?” he said, his voice broken, as if the words were becoming harder and harder to say. “I love you more than you can imagine, but this… this is bigger than us. This is the future, and I can’t risk losing it because… because of something as small as my own feelings.”

The words came out of his mouth as though they were the only thing left inside him. And you, standing there in front of him, felt the ground crumbling beneath your feet. The pain, the betrayal, cut through you like blades.

“And what about us, Viktor?” you said, unable to stop the mix of anger and sadness in your voice. “What about everything we’ve shared? Everything we’ve been through together? Doesn’t that mean anything? Nothing to you?”

He took a step back, each word he spoke a wall being built between you two. With each word, you felt smaller, more invisible. As if he had already made his choice.

“I can’t go on. I can’t be the person you need. If I stay… if I stay with you, all of this… everything I’ve built, everything I am, will crumble. I can’t be that person anymore.”

The pain overwhelmed you in an instant. A silent sob began to rise, but you didn’t let it escape. The knot in your throat tightened, but the words couldn’t come out anymore. You felt empty, as if the air you were breathing was the same air that had killed everything that once meant something to you.

“Then, goodbye, Viktor.” Your words were a broken whisper. “I can’t wait for you to choose between me and your obsessions. I won’t stay here, watching you lose yourself in something you don’t even know what it is.”

Viktor didn’t say anything more. There was no attempt to stop you, no plea, not even a look of regret. Just the sound of his breathing, shallow, as if something inside him was breaking too, but it was too late.

The door slammed shut behind you, the sound of the wood ringing in your ears. And Viktor, inside, remained alone with his experiments, his machines, and the man who had decided that everything else had to go.

Jinx

You approached her softly, as you always did, trying to calm her, trying to make her focus on you again. But you knew this wasn’t the same Jinx who used to laugh and be unpredictable. Something in her gaze told you she had gotten lost, that her thoughts were no longer hers, that the chaos in her mind had taken control.

Suddenly, Jinx stopped moving. She stood still, staring into the void, and everything around her grew quieter. Then, she began to murmur, as if speaking to herself, but her words weren’t clear. You grew concerned, stepping closer, but that was when her body reacted violently, out of control.

You didn’t understand what was happening until you felt the sting of a blow. You hadn’t seen it coming, but the pain hit you instantly. In that moment, fear took over, and your body trembled as you tried to comprehend the magnitude of what had just happened. Jinx looked at you, but her eyes weren’t focused on you. She was trapped, lost in a hallucination.

The voices started. “Kill her! She’s going to betray you, Jinx! Kill her before she leaves you!” The voice was cruel, disdainful, so cold. And then, another voice, softer but equally terrifying: “She hates you. She doesn’t want you, Jinx. Let her go before you do it again!”

You froze, watching the confusion in her eyes, the terror on her face. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t the Jinx you knew. She was caught in an internal struggle, a battle that you couldn’t fight for her.

You stepped closer to her, despite the blood dripping from your nose and your trembling hands. Jinx was crouched down, her eyes lost in an empty space, her hands covering her face as if she could hide the pain and chaos she had just caused. But you knew you couldn’t run from this. You couldn’t leave her now. Not after everything you’d been through together. And not after the promise you made to her.

“Sweets,” you whispered, so softly that you weren’t even sure she could hear you. “Please, look at me.”

Tears kept falling from her eyes, but she didn’t see you. Jinx didn’t see you. And the blow she had struck you moments ago seemed like a distant memory compared to what was happening now: the emptiness she was feeling. The war in her head.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” she whispered, her voice broken, shattered. “I didn’t want… I didn’t want to hurt you. I can’t… I can’t do it again. I… I hurt you.”

You knelt in front of her, searching for her eyes, feeling the knot in your throat. But she wouldn’t look at you. She was trapped. And you knew what that meant.

“Wake up, babe,” you said firmly, taking her hands. “I promised you. I won’t leave you. Not now, not ever.”

The voices in her mind began to rumble, like an overwhelming wave, growing louder, rougher. “She’s going to kill you! Kill her before it’s too late! It’s best for her! Do it now!”

“No… no,” Jinx said, covering her ears as if she could silence them. “No… I’ll hurt you… I don’t want to lose you! I swear I don’t want to hurt you, but I’m a monster!”

You stood up, forcing Jinx to look at you, taking her by the shoulders. “You’re not a monster. You’re not, Jinx. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you. I promised!”

But Jinx started sobbing, with a desperation so deep it hurt to see her like this. “You… you don’t understand. I’m the cause of all this. I’m the worst for you… It’s going to hurt so much if I stay close. You’re going to die! I’m the reason why you…”

“No!” you interrupted, gripping her hands tightly. “Don’t say that. I’m not leaving. I need you. You’re the only one who… who has understood me. Don’t leave me. I promised I’d be by your side.”

Jinx pulled away from you with a sigh, her face filled with guilt and desperation. “You deserve something better, something… more. You don’t have to stay. You don’t have to put up with my madness, you don’t have to stay for me.”

“I don’t want to be with anyone else!” you shouted, desperate. “You’re what I want. You’re what I’ve always wanted. Don’t leave me!”

But Jinx walked away, her steps wavering but firm. “I can’t… I don’t want to be the cause of your death, the cause of… the worst. You’ve given me everything, you’ve given me more than I deserve, but… you could be happy without me. I’m a burden, a curse. And… and I don’t want to lose you more. I don’t want to kill you.”

The voices in her mind grew more intense, more cruel: “Do it! Let her go, Jinx! She’s better off without you.”

“Wait!” you screamed, your eyes filled with tears. “You’re not a burden! I love you, Jinx, I love you! I promised I wouldn’t leave you alone, and I won’t leave you now!”

But Jinx’s words were clear, heartbreaking. “You… you’d be happy without me. I’m the reason for all the pain, for everything that’s made you suffer. And if I stay… I’ll hurt you, I’ll always do it.”

Jinx took a step back, her heart breaking inside, while you kept holding on to her. “I’m leaving. Because… because if I stay close, I’ll do the same thing as always. And you… don’t deserve that.”

“No,” you whispered, your voice broken but determined. “I need you. I need you, Jinx.”

But she was already so lost in her own mind that she couldn’t hear you.

She looked at you for a long moment, her eyes filled with guilt and sadness, and with a painful sigh, she turned away. “I’m sorry… I swear. I’m so sorry.” And in that instant, she left you behind.

Vi

When you enter the house, the sound of Vi limping towards you makes you take a step forward. You stay still, observing her wounds: a black eye, swollen lips, blood still dripping from a cut on her arm.

"Vi," you begin, anger taking over you, "You can't keep doing this! I can't see you like this! For a few damn coins? I can pay for everything you need, whatever you want, you don't have to do this!"

Vi shoots you a glaring look, her breath heavy from the effort, but her pride intact. "What do you know, huh? What the hell do you know about sacrifice? About fighting to survive, about having no other option but to fuck yourself over to get more than scraps?"

"You don't have to fight, Vi. You don't have to risk your life like this, for a few damn coins. I can give you whatever you want!" you shout, tears threatening to spill, the helplessness making your voice tremble. "I don't want you to hurt yourself for pride! I want you, and you're killing me seeing you like this!"

Vi takes a step back, her look as hard as stone. "I don't need anything from you! No money, no help! I can take care of myself, do you hear me? I'm not your damn fragile doll, I'm not your entertainment! I'm not your fucking fun."

"It's not that! It's not fun, I care about you, Vi! I can't stand seeing you destroy yourself over something so stupid!" Your breathing grows more ragged, your heart pounding hard in your chest. "I don't want you to keep destroying yourself for pride!"

Vi laughs bitterly, her tone cruel. "You think you're the only one who knows what it is to suffer? You think just because you're some princess from Piltover you can judge me for what I do, for what I am? You've never had to fight for anything in your life! You were born in a fucking silk bed, surrounded by luxuries, and you don't know what it's like to live in the shit, in the mud of Zaun."

The poison in her words hits you like a slap. "Why do you judge me like that when you know it's not true? I've told you, I want to help you, get you out of this shitty life that's consuming you."

Vi takes another step back, her eyes full of disdain. "And what, now you want to make me your project? Your experiment? A poor girl from Zaun who can throw her whole world away just so you can feel better about yourself? Is that what you want? To have a 'girl from the slums' story? I bet you'd get bored of me! Of me and what I am!"

Your words choke in your throat, the truth of her accusations ripping through the air between you. Vi keeps staring harshly, stepping back again. "I'm not what you need, and that's it. I don't want you to be my savior, I don't want to be your fucking project. I'm not going to stay here, waiting for you to cure me, to turn me into something I'm not."

"Vi..." you whisper, tears now falling uncontrollably from your face. "Why... why are you doing this to me?"

"Because we don't have to be together. If I stay with you, I'll just kill you too." Vi takes one last step back, and her voice softens, but not enough to stop the damage. "I don't want to be your fun anymore, I don't want to be your damn experiment. I want you to be happy, to live your life. Far from me."

The silence says it all. Vi turns around, and before you can say anything else, she leaves, leaving you alone in the cold space, with only your tears and her broken words remaining.

Caitlyn

The light in the cell is dim, the coldness of the place surrounds you as you stand there, completely in shock. The shackles on your wrists are a brutal reminder of what just happened. You can't believe it. Caitlyn, the woman who showed you love, the one you thought would never hurt you, has left you here, between these cold and dark walls.

The door creaks open, and there she is, Caitlyn. Her face, usually full of compassion and determination, is now empty, almost indifferent. You watch her approach, and for a moment, you hope she'll come to free you, that she'll tell you it was all a misunderstanding. But no.

"Why?" you manage to say, your voice broken with pain. "Cait... do you really think I could betray you?"

She doesn't answer immediately. She just looks at you with eyes full of conflict, her face serious, even cold. The tension in the air is palpable, and you can see the internal struggle in her. Finally, she sighs, and her words come out of her mouth like a sentence.

"I don't know," she replies coldly. "You're under suspicion now. I can't let you escape."

The weight of her words falls on you like a stone. Your heart stops for a moment, and a lump in your throat prevents you from speaking. You can't believe what you've just heard. The woman who swore to protect you, the one who shared your bed and your laughter, now accuses you of being a traitor.

"But... I just wanted to bring peace, Caitlyn," you whisper, feeling how despair is consuming you. "How can you think I would do something like that? I didn't want to hurt anyone. I just wanted..." The words break in your throat, and the anguish in your chest is unbearable. "Do you really think I'll be capable of lying to you and cause a revolution?"

Caitlyn closes her eyes for a moment, as if she’s searching for answers she can’t find. "I can't risk it, I can't let what you did go unanswered," she says, her voice harder now. "My duty is to Piltover, to justice. I can't be weak."

You step closer to her, hands outstretched, tears overflowing from your eyes. "Caitlyn, please, don't do this to me... I'm not the traitor you think I am. I love you. We promised we'll always have each other's back. Don't you remember that?"

She takes a step back, and her expression hardens even more. "I'm sorry," she says with a broken voice, but her eyes show no regret. "I'm sorry, but I have to do this. I can't let you remain free, not after everything you've put into doubt."

And before you can say anything else, Caitlyn turns her back to you, her footsteps moving away. "I'll keep you in the cell until everything is resolved," she says without turning. "But I can't trust you now."

The door slams shut with a metallic noise, and the sound of the locks clicking into place is all you hear. You fall to your knees, the anguish overtaking you. All you wanted was to be with her, to do the right thing, but now you're here, a prisoner of a justice you don't understand. The betrayal hurts, not because it was done to you, but because the person you love most has now turned their back on you.

Jayce

The conversation had started calmly, like all the others. But something had changed. The tension in the air grew as the words left your lips, and you could see the discomfort on Jayce's face.

"Jayce, enough," you say, your words full of frustration. "I know you want to do great things, but not at the cost of everything else. You can't keep sacrificing everything for your ambition."

He looks at you, surprise and annoyance mixing in his eyes. "I don't understand what you mean," he replies, his tone tense. "Do you think I'm doing this just for myself? I'm fighting for a better future for everyone."

"You don't see it, Jayce!" you shout, unable to contain the emotion choking you. "You've forgotten about the people who really matter to you. Everything you do is for power, for control, for your image. There's no place for me in your life, no space for what we are."

Jayce crosses his arms, his gaze harder than ever. "Is that what you think? That everything I do makes no sense? I'm trying to save Piltover, build something bigger than us. And what do you want? For me to give you more time to be by your side? For everything to revolve around you?"

The pain pierces your chest like a dagger. "It was never about that, Jayce," you say with a broken voice. "I always wanted to be by your side, support you in what you do. But I feel like a shadow. Like you can never see me, like my life, my dreams, everything I am, isn't enough."

He takes a step back, and the distance between the two of you seems to grow with every word that leaves his mouth. "You don't understand," he says coldly, his eyes now so distant. "What I do is bigger than anything I could offer you. If you can't understand that, if you can't meet me at my level, then maybe we're not what we thought we were."

"What are you saying?" you ask, feeling your heart flip. "Are you telling me that everything we've been doesn't matter? That I'm not enough for you?"

Jayce takes a deep breath, as if trying to calm his own thoughts before speaking. "It's not that. But I'm tired of you asking me to put you above everything I'm trying to build. If that means losing you, then..." his voice cracks for a second, but he recovers quickly. "Then it's what I have to do."

An emptiness opens in your stomach, and the world seems to crumble around you. "So you're leaving me. Just like that, as if I never meant anything to you." You look at him with disappointment.

Jayce lowers his gaze, avoiding your eyes, and his words hit like a blow. "I don't want you dragging me backward. You have to understand, I can't do this anymore."

Tears well up in your eyes, but you don't let them fall. "If that's what you want, Jayce, if that's what you really think is best for you, then goodbye. I hope you don't lose yourself on your way to perfection."

And in that moment, the words between you become empty. Jayce turns around, without even looking at you one more time, and walks away without saying another word. You stand there, in the middle of the place you once considered your refuge, while the echo of his indifference lingers in your ears.

Ekko

The house is silent, but the air is thick with tension. Ekko's gaze, which usually radiated passion and energy, now seems empty, lost in thoughts that don't include you. You watch him from the door, the knot in your throat preventing you from speaking.

"Ekko," you manage to say, your voice almost breaking, "I can't take it anymore."

He looks at you, seeming surprised, but he doesn't approach. The silence stretches between you two, as if you both know what's coming but neither of you wants to say it.

"What can't you take anymore?" his voice is low, as if he's too exhausted to argue. "What do you want me to do, huh? I'm doing what I have to do for Zaun, for everyone here. I can't just stop. I can't anymore."

"Can't stop? Are you really saying that?" Anger begins to take control, and helplessness mixes with pain. "Ekko, I've been watching you disappear more and more into your missions, your plans, everything that keeps you busy in Zaun. And I... what am I to you? A nuisance? A distraction?"

Ekko takes a step back, the exhaustion on his face becoming more evident. "It's not that, but..." He falls silent for a moment, as if words aren't enough to explain how he feels. "I can't keep living in two worlds, in two realities, and you know it. Zaun needs all of me, and you... you don't understand what that means. I can't be the Zaun guy and be your boyfriend at the same time."

"So, all of this was a mistake?" you ask, desperation about to drown you. "Everything we shared? Everything we built? Doesn't that matter? Does Zaun matter more?"

"Yes, sometimes it matters more," Ekko replies, his voice cold, but his gaze betrays him. "You... you're part of my life, I know. But I have to be objective and realistic, and no matter how much I love you, right now, you can't be a priority in my life. I can't be who you want me to be anymore. I can't be the guy who fights for you and for Zaun at the same time. I need to be one or the other, and Zaun needs me now."

"And I need you too," you say, the pain in your words, "but you don't see it anymore, do you? I'm not enough, I'm not what you need. I feel used and stupid," you said angrily, kicking a chair.

Ekko looks at you, his gaze wavering, as if there's an internal struggle he can't win. "Believe me, no one wants this to work more than I do, baby, but I... I'm not capable of giving you what you want, and neither are you to me."

The silence stretches into what feels like an eternity. You approach him, desperation overtaking you. "Ekko, please. Think about it one more time, we can't leave things like this. You've taught me to fight. Isn't it worth fighting for this?"

"Sometimes there are battles that aren't worth fighting because you know you'll never win them," he said, his words burning like acid in his throat. He kissed your forehead and stepped away from your personal space. "I'm sorry..." he murmured, and for a moment, he seemed tempted to hug you, but he didn't. "I'm sorry. But this is what's best for both of us."

The words destroy both of you.

Reality hits you like a bucket of cold water in the middle of winter. Everything you'd feared, everything you'd known deep in your heart, is happening. Ekko is pulling away, and even though you understand, you can't accept that the love you shared is no longer enough to keep him.

"Is this for real?" you ask, tears falling uncontrollably. "Is this what you're giving me? A cold goodbye because Zaun is more important than me?"

"Zaun needs a leader," Ekko replies, his voice broken but resolute. "And I need to be that leader. I can't be what you need, not now."

You stand there, feeling how the void between you grows larger, as Ekko turns and walks away, taking with him the last hope of what once was.

Silco

The rain hit the windows of Silco's office with force, the sound almost deafening as you leaned against the wall, breathing irregularly. You had been rescued again, once more on the brink of death, another attempt on your life, and once again, Silco was there to save you. But something in his gaze, cold, distant, made you fear the worst. You didn’t understand what was happening, but something had changed. Something in him.

“This is over,” he said after a long pause.

“What do you mean by that?” Your voice trembled.

Silco looked at you, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t read, something darker than the usual shadow he carried. He took a step toward you, but his presence was no longer comforting. His gaze remained fixed, as if he was deliberately pushing you away from him.

“It’s for the best,” his tone was low, almost hesitant, but the coldness in his words made you freeze. “I can't keep exposing you to this. You don't belong in this world. I can’t risk you anymore.”

“What are you saying?” Your words barely came out, drowned by the pain of his cold resolve. “Silco… you don’t have the right to decide for me. I choose to stay, I choose to remain here by your side.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he took another step back. “You don’t understand,” he said, his voice deeper than ever. “I don’t want to protect you anymore. You’re a burden, a burden I can’t carry any longer. I’m tired of you.”

The blow was like a stab to the chest. You couldn’t believe what you had just heard. “What? You’re tired of me?” Your words came out choked, unable to grasp the cruelty he had just expressed.

“The rumors are true,” he said with a harshness that froze the air between you both. “I’ve only seen you as a little distraction. A good pet. A weakness. Nothing more. I had fun, yes, but that’s over. I’ve found something better.”

“No… that can’t be…” you said, but when you saw the coldness in his eyes, something inside you shattered.

Silco didn’t respond immediately. His gaze remained fixed on you, and for a moment, everything felt like a lie. Then, with a cruel indifference, he said, “You were never my equal. You were just a pastime, something I could have for myself. Something no one else could have. But you're replaceable. We all are.”

“That’s not true,” you whispered, struggling against the knot in your throat. “How can you say that?”

“I’m getting tired of repeating myself. I don’t want you in my life anymore. You’re no longer useful to me, you only bring me problems,” his voice was now firm, unyielding. “So go. I don’t need any more weaknesses in my life.”

The words were like a sentence. Everything you had ever felt for him, everything you had believed you shared, crumbled in that moment. There was nothing left. With your heart shattered, you took a deep breath and, without another word, turned away.

As you walked toward the door, the echo of your footsteps filled the empty office. Silco watched you, but did nothing to stop you. There was nothing left to say.

When the door closed behind you, silence filled the room. Silco stood there, in the darkness, his fists clenched, the pain in his chest stronger than any wound he had ever suffered before. For the first time in years, a single tear ran down his face. But no one saw it. He was alone, and that was all he deserved.

Mel

Mel's bedroom was silent, illuminated only by the faint light of the early morning hours. The bed, still messy, bore witness to a night of passion, but also to something much deeper that had been growing between the two of you. The sheets, tangled together, seemed to reflect the tension that now filled the space. The room, which had once been a warm refuge, was now soaked in a thick, suffocating atmosphere.

You sat on the edge of the bed, watching how Mel lay with her back to you, her face hidden in the pillow, breathing irregularly, as if she were still searching for something she couldn’t find. It wasn’t physical exhaustion that was affecting her, but something much deeper.

"Mel..." you said, your voice low but filled with an anguish you couldn’t control. “What’s happening between us?”

She didn’t move at first, as if she hadn’t heard you, but the weight of your words finally reached her. She turned over, and when her eyes met yours, something in her gaze made you fear the worst. It wasn’t the look of the woman you loved. It was something much more distant, something you couldn’t understand.

"I'm sorry... I can't keep doing this," she said, her voice, though soft, tinged with a hardness you couldn’t ignore. "I can't keep dragging you into this."

"What do you mean?" you asked, unable to comprehend what she had just said. "I won’t let you push me away. I won’t allow it."

Mel sighed and sat up, her eyes reflecting an exhaustion that seemed to surpass the physical. "It’s not about that... I don’t want to keep exposing you to all of this," she said, pressing her lips together with a determination that hurt. "I’m putting you in danger. It’s not fair to you."

"I don’t care," you replied, moving closer to her, your words heavy with desperation. "I don’t care what happens. All I want is to be with you."

But Mel didn’t give in, and instead of softening, her expression hardened even more. "You don’t understand, do you? I... I’m not enough for you. I can’t be what you need. I can’t keep being this, being... who I am."

"And what are you, Mel?" you asked, pain clear in your voice. "Ambessa’s daughter? The woman who lives under her shadow, trying to be someone she’ll never be? You’re not just that. You’re not. You’re... you’re the woman I want, the woman I love. But you keep running from it."

Mel, hearing your words, took a step back, as if an invisible force had pushed her away. The look in her eyes was painful, as if your words had struck her to the core. "You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to be Ambessa’s daughter," she said, her voice cracked with frustration. "You don’t know what it’s like to do everything for her, for her approval."

"No I don't," you replied, unable to hold back the heat of your own truth. "But what I know is what it’s like to try to be what others want. To try to please someone who’ll never see you for what you truly are. And still, you stay there, looking for something you can’t even define."

Mel fell silent, her face paling with each of your words, but you wouldn’t stop. Not after everything you’d tried. "I’m telling you, I don’t care what you do. I don’t care if you have to live under her shadow forever. I just want to be with you. But you... you can’t see that you’re losing what matters most. What you have left. What we could be."

"It’s just that I can’t... I can’t give it all up for you," she whispered, her gaze lost, almost disoriented. "I’m not enough for you. I can’t be."

"Why do you keep saying that?" you said, your voice breaking. "Why do you keep seeking her approval? You don’t have to be her perfect daughter, Mel. You have to be you. But you keep seeking her love, and you’ll never find it. It will never be enough for her. And as long as you stay there, you keep losing yourself."

She closed her eyes, as if your words pierced her, but she didn’t say anything more. The silence between you two became unbearable, and finally, Mel looked down, tears welling up in her eyes. "I’m telling you, I can’t keep going with you," she murmured, and this time it wasn’t a doubt, it was a statement.

You stayed there, frozen, unable to move a muscle. "What?" you whispered, unable to believe what she had just said.

"What I’m saying is that... I can’t keep being what you need. I can’t be happy like this. I can’t keep fighting for something I don’t have."

You couldn’t believe it, the words slipped from your mouth, but they didn’t find the right form to come out. "But, Mel, you don’t have to be what they want. You don’t have to live under her shadow. Why don’t you see it? I don’t want you for what you are to others, I want you for what you are to me."

Mel looked at you then, and for a moment, you thought everything could be resolved. But the look in her eyes wasn’t the same anymore. It was empty, sad, as if she had given up everything she once was. "I can’t stay here, I can’t keep doing this," she murmured, and with those words, she turned away, walking away from you.

Your heart shattered, but it wasn’t the pain that stopped you. It was the anguish of knowing that, despite everything you shared, she would never be able to leave that shadow, that need to please her mother.

And as she walked away, the words echoed in your mind over and over again: "I’ll never be enough. I’m not enough for her. I’m not enough for you."

Sevika

You find yourself with Sevika in her usual spot, where the world seems to stand still, surrounded by ruins and rubble. The atmosphere is thick with silence, but there's something in her eyes you can't ignore. There's tension in the air, as if a conflict is about to erupt.

"Sevika," you call, your heart racing. "We need to talk."

She turns toward you slowly, and her eyes seem colder than you've ever seen them. "I know," she replies, her voice deep and cutting. "I've been waiting for you."

You approach, but Sevika's gaze feels so distant, so detached from you. Something is wrong, and you know it. You can't stop the doubts from forming in your mind.

"Why have you been pulling away from me?" you ask, the knot in your throat growing tighter. "What's happening between us?"

Sevika crosses her arms, her posture more defiant than ever. "Don't you know? I told you, remember? I'm no good for you. I'm not what you need."

You furrow your brow, confused. "What are you talking about? I've never asked you to be anything else. I accept you as you are. I love you, Sevika."

She takes a step back, distancing herself from you, as if your closeness burns her. "That's what you don't understand. You think this is love, but what you're seeing isn't it. What you see in me is just an illusion. I'm just using you to get what I need: a little comfort, a distraction from the damn chaos of this city. But I don't want you to keep deceiving yourself. I'm not someone you can save, and I don't want you wasting your time with me."

Your words catch in your throat. "No... don't say that. I'm not deceiving myself, Sevika. I want to be by your side, through thick and thin. Why are you saying all of this?"

Sevika laughs, but it's not a laugh that gives you peace. It's cold, bitter, as if she's laughing at a cruel joke. "Because you're weak. And I don't want to drag you into this shitty world anymore. I don't want you to be another victim of what I am. And the worst part is, you don't even get it. You're a dreamer, an idealist, but there's no room for that here. There's no room for love in Zaun, there's only pain. And you won't be able to handle it."

"I don't want to leave you. I can't leave you," you respond, moving closer, but Sevika takes another step back, her face hardened by an internal battle. "I can't live with the thought of you pushing me away."

"Well, that's what's going to happen," she says, her voice so cold it echoes through the emptiness of the factory. "I'm leaving you because I can never be what you expect. I'll drag you into the darkness, I'll sink you even deeper than you already are. And that, that would ruin you. I have nothing left to offer you."

You're frozen, the pain piercing through your chest. "No... don't do this, Sevika. Please. Don't leave me alone."

"I left you the moment I accepted this damn world," Sevika says, and you can see a single tear silently roll down her face. "The only thing I offer you is more suffering, and that's the last thing I want for you. Forget me. And go, before I end up destroying you."

"No! I won't leave you!" you shout, but the desperation in your voice is futile. Sevika looks at you, but there's no warmth in her eyes anymore, only emptiness. "You're going to be happy without me. I'm not the person you need."

Before you can say anything else, Sevika turns around, walking toward the exit of the factory, leaving you alone in that dark, cold corner. The last image of her, her figure fading into the darkness, breaks you completely. You know that what she just told you isn't a lie, and that maybe, just maybe, she was right.

But what destroys you more is that you love her so much, and you can't bear the thought of losing her forever.

[aesthetically-dying101]

Wifed up

A/N: im trying this type of thing out, but what happens if the JJk men saw you without your wedding ring? (tbf, im sure this has been done by others before, i sure as hell aren't the first to write this, won't be the last.)im genuinely so scared of posting this lmfao, okay but anyways

Characters: Nanami, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Sukuna, Shiu. (in said order)

Nanami:

Nanami almost got whiplash when he noticed the ring—your wedding ring, for heaven’s sake—wasn’t on your finger.

But when he stepped through the door of your shared home, grocery bags in one hand, jacket slung over his arm, and caught sight of your bare hand…well, he nearly dropped the tomatoes.

It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions—he prided himself on logic, on maturity. But standing in the doorway of your shared home, the scent of vanilla and butter wafting through the air, his heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons. He could see you through the archway leading into the kitchen, flour dusting your forearms, a faint smear of chocolate on your cheek.

You looked radiant, as always. But the empty space on your left hand? That detail stood out sharper than a curse in a crowd.

Nanami’s mind, traitorous for the first time in years, whispered an awful thought: Was she hiding it? Why? What if she’s inviting someone else over while I’m at work?

He hated the thought. Hated that it even crossed his mind. But he was only human—humans with hearts could be irrational, especially when they cared so deeply.

The seconds stretched, but his mind was already racing. His rational side kicked in almost immediately, reminding him that you were probably just taking it off while baking—something harmless, right? You’ve always done that. It’s just a ring.

But... It had been a conversation in the office that kept nagging at him all week. His coworker—someone he’d known for years—had just found out that his wife of ten years had been cheating on him. The betrayal had rocked him to his core, and for the last few days, Nanami had been wondering how something like that could happen. His mind lingered on the idea that a partner could hide something so big, and the doubt, for just a second, crawled into his own relationship. What if you were hiding it too?

He shook his head. Get a grip, Kento. Still, he couldn’t quite quell the question lingering at the edge of his thoughts.

“Y/N,” he called softly, stepping closer.

You turned, a bright smile lighting up your face.

“You’re home early!” you exclaimed, wiping your hands on your apron.

“I am,” he replied, voice steady, though his sharp eyes didn’t miss the bare ring finger you so casually flaunted. “Where’s your ring?”

Your eyes widened in realization.

“Oh, that!” You laughed, waving a hand dismissively. “I took it off while baking. Didn’t want to get dough all over it. It’s right over there.”

You pointed to the windowsill by the sink, where sure enough, both your engagement and wedding rings sat neatly side by side.

Relief flooded him so fast it almost made him dizzy. He nodded, keeping his tone light. “I see. I suppose I should’ve known you wouldn’t be that careless with it.”

“Careless?” You scoffed, playfully offended. “I’m meticulous, thank you very much.”

He smiled faintly, his heart settling back into its usual rhythm. You stepped closer, your grin turning mischievous. Before he could react, your flour-dusted hand slapped his backside with an audible smack.

Nanami froze, incredulous, as you dissolved into laughter.

“There,” you declared between giggles. “I marked my territory. Now wash your hands and help me.”

Nanami followed you after shrugging off his jacket and loosening his tie. He slipped off his own wedding ring and set it carefully beside yours on the counter before rolling up his sleeves. For the next hour, the two of you moved seamlessly, kneading dough and rolling croissants together. The air filled with the warmth of the oven and the soft melody of your laughter.

By the time the pastries were golden and flaky, Nanami leaned against the counter, his hand resting on your lower back. The soft touch quickly turned into something more as his lips brushed your temple, then your cheek. You turned to meet him halfway, mouths molding together in a kiss that deepened quickly, his hands firm against your waist.

Nanami’s lips were warm and urgent against yours, every brush of his mouth sending a shiver down your spine. His hands, once gently resting on your waist, now gripped you tighter, pulling you flush against him as your body aligned in all the right ways.

You could feel the heat building between you, your chest pressed against his as your hands worked on the button of his shirt with determination, your fingers fumbling only slightly as you pushed him further against the counter. He groaned against your lips when you tugged at his tie, undoing it with quick, practiced movements.

“Someone’s eager,” he teased, his voice low and rough, but the words disappeared as your lips traced the edge of his jaw-his perfect jaw, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin of his neck.

“I’ve been waiting all day,” you murmured, hands sliding down to the waistband of his pants. His breath hitched when you unbuckled his belt and slid your hand inside, brushing against him with the kind of intention that made him gasp, his body instinctively bucking into your touch.

You grinned against his skin, the heat of the moment clouding your mind. This wasn’t just about passion—it was about claiming him, showing him with every touch that he was the only one. You slid your hand lower, your fingers grazing him with a teasing pressure that made his breath quicken.

“You’re the only man I need, Nanami Kento,” you whispered, meeting his eyes as you pulled him closer, grinding your hips against his. The friction had your pulse racing, a primal need building in the pit of your stomach.

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you even tighter against him as he kissed you again, this time with a desperation that matched yours. His lips were insistent, almost possessive, as his hands slipped under your shirt, his thumbs brushing against your skin in a way that made you shiver.

The air was thick with heat, your body aching with want, when suddenly—

DING!

The oven timer went off.

You both froze.

The croissants.

“Oh no—!”

You shoved away from him with a frustrated gasp, already heading toward the kitchen, but not before you shot him a glance. “You’re so distracting!”

Nanami watched you, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breath. His eyes darkened with amusement, and he chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"We'll finish this later, don't worry."

Gojo

Gojo’s feet dragged heavily as he entered the apartment, the door clicking shut behind him with a soft, final sound. The weight of the mission still hung over him—bones aching, mind buzzing with residual adrenaline.

He didn’t want to think about the cursed spirits he'd just fought or the cursed techniques he'd barely been able to avoid using in full force. All he wanted now, all he craved, was the soft familiarity of home.

And you.

His wife.

There you were—curled up on the couch, your form relaxed and peaceful, your face lit by the flickering light of the TV screen. It looked like you'd fallen asleep while watching something, your body sinking into the cushions, soft and beautiful.

But then—

His eyes narrowed.

His eyes immediately fell to your left hand.

Empty.

No wedding ring. No engagement band.

His heart skipped a beat. For a moment, the rest of the world disappeared. The weight of exhaustion, the tightness in his chest, everything—it all vanished in the face of that empty ring finger. His mind instantly went blank, and then... panic.

Where the hell is it?

A thousand questions shot through his head at once, each one more suffocating than the last. His mouth went dry, and he stepped closer to you, his mind reeling. It didn’t make sense. You’d always worn your rings, no matter what.

During the mission he hadn't used his Six Eyes and scan everything in the house, to check on you, but.... He’d been distracted. Too focused on that cursed mission, on the job, on things he shouldn’t have let slip.

His eyes flicked back to your hand, that empty space where your ring should have been. His mind spiraled further into dark thoughts.

She... She took it off? But why?

His heart thudded painfully in his chest. Was this it? Had it finally happened? Was this the moment when everything changed? When you... left him?

He couldn't breathe. He couldn’t think.

Did she meet someone else?

His pulse quickened at the thought. He wanted to scream, to shout, but the silence around him felt suffocating. Every step closer to the couch felt like a thousand pounds pulling him down. He stopped in front of you, staring at your unconscious form, the way you seemed so... peaceful, like everything was fine.

But it wasn’t.

What the hell is going on?

It was almost like a switch had flipped inside him—like something deep within him, something raw and protective, had been triggered. His anger, his fear—it boiled over. It had to be something. She wasn’t just going to forget her rings.

His voice was low, rough, as he bent down close to you, his tone colder than he meant it to be.

"Hey," he said, almost a hiss. "What the fuck is going on?"

His heart clenched at the coldness of his own words, but his fear was all-consuming. He needed answers. Now.

You stirred, your eyelids fluttering open at the sound of his voice, but it was the confusion in your gaze that stopped him for a second. For just a moment, it was like the anger and fear drained out of him, replaced with a spike of guilt. This wasn’t the way to approach you. He wasn’t supposed to be... scaring you. But he couldn’t help it.

What if I’m losing her?

You blinked up at him, your vision still blurry from sleep, but the panic in his eyes didn’t go unnoticed.

"Satoru...?" Your voice was soft, laced with that sweet, familiar confusion he loved. The panic in his eyes, the intensity in the way he stared down at you—it wasn’t the Gojo you were used to. He looked almost... unhinged.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you pushed yourself up slowly, feeling the exhaustion still clinging to your body. There was a fleeting second of fear that rose in you—this wasn’t how he usually acted.

What’s going on?

The man who had always been the first to laugh in the face of danger, the man who could break down any barrier with a joke or a smile, was now standing there—almost trembling. This was no playful teasing. No, there was something else in the way his body stiffened, the way his voice cracked with uncertainty.

His voice was a harsh, cold rasp as he bent down closer, demanding answers he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“What the fuck is going on?” He tried to keep his voice from trembling, "Where’s your ring?"

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Your hand instinctively went to your finger, but it was bare. You frowned. "Oh..." The fog of sleep was lifting now, and the look on his face was making your heart race.

But before you could even say anything else, Gojo’s eyes narrowed, and he straightened up, suddenly tense.

"I’m not playing games, [Y/N]." He could feel the anger bubbling up again, his breath coming faster. "What the hell is going on? You’ve been in this house, and now you’re not wearing it? Are you seriously gonna tell me it’s some accident?" He gestured wildly, his frustration impossible to hide.

You recoiled slightly, caught off guard by his tone. The fear in his voice, the desperation that edged every word, it hit you hard. He was scared.

But you could feel it, too. You could feel the rage he was hiding beneath his frustration, the doubt gnawing at him, the belief that something was wrong—that he wasn’t good enough to keep you.

The thought almost made you ache. You couldn’t believe he’d think that. Gojo Satoru, the strongest sorcerer, so terrified that his wife had... what? Cheated on him?

"Gojo," you whispered, your voice trembling. "I didn’t—I didn’t take it off for any reason like that." You looked at him, trying to calm his rapid breath. "I was cleaning the bathroom earlier... with bleach. I didn’t want to risk damaging the rings, so I took them off and put them in a little dish in there while I worked. I... I must’ve forgotten to put them back on after I collapsed on the couch."

The explanation was so simple, so mundane, that Gojo felt an overwhelming rush of relief flood through him. He closed his eyes and sank back onto the couch, rubbing his face with both hands.

You were just tired.

You hadn’t been out with someone else. You hadn’t thrown away everything they’d built together.

His mind had created a monster out of nothing. He had jumped to conclusions because he was weak, scared of losing the only person who mattered. He wasn’t used to this kind of vulnerability, and yet, here he was, completely unraveling over the thought of you slipping away from him.

"God," he muttered, voice breaking slightly. "I thought you... I thought I wasn’t enough for you. That maybe you'd—"

"Stop," you cut him off, pulling him close with a soft tug on his shirt. You pressed your forehead to his chest, feeling the tension in his shoulders. "Don’t even think that, Satoru." You wrapped your arms around him, grounding him. "You’re my everything. I wouldn’t throw that away."

Gojo’s arms tightened around you, his face buried in your hair as he exhaled a shaky breath. For a moment, neither of you said anything. Just the sound of your breathing and the rhythmic beat of your hearts.

When he finally pulled back, he cupped your face gently, his blue eyes searching yours with a mix of relief and affection. A small smile tugged at his lips.

"Next time," he said softly, almost shyly, "just leave a note. Like, ‘I’m cleaning and definitely not inviting other men over,’ so I don’t go insane."

You rolled your eyes playfully, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "Yeah, I’ll do that."

Gojo pulled you back into his arms, this time much softer, as if the whole world could melt away in this moment. He could feel his heart finally steadying. You were here, you were safe. The rest of it didn’t matter.

He kissed the top of your head, whispering softly, "Just promise me one thing, okay?"

You looked up at him.

"Never scare me like that again."

You smiled, a soft, sleepy smile, and nodded.

"I promise."

Geto:

The last thing on your mind was the delicate gold band around your finger, the symbol of your marriage to Geto, which you had carefully removed so as not to get it covered in dirt.

Geto paced through the entrance, his brow furrowed with a mixture of frustration and curiosity. After being away on business for a few days, the first thing he was told upon his return was that something had happened with you—his wife—and that you weren’t wearing your wedding rings.

Before he could utter a word, one of his cult followers had nervously approached him, eyes wide with anxiety.

"Master Geto... We... we noticed the absence of her rings. The lady—"

"Where is she?" he snapped, his voice low, yet carrying an unsettling edge.

His follower hesitated for just a second before pointing toward the garden. "She's there, with your daughters."

Geto’s heart skipped a beat. He clenched his fists, a flood of emotions threatening to overtake him. Did you really... no, he refused to believe it. You couldn't be removing your rings over something so trivial.

He strode quickly, irritation bubbling beneath his calm exterior. As he reached the garden, the sight before him stopped him in his tracks.

There you were, kneeling on the soft earth, laughing as his daughters ran circles around you, their giggles filling the air. You were covered in dirt from working in the garden all day.

You glanced up and saw him standing there, eyes dark with unspoken words. He was staring at you with a strange intensity.

“Suguru,” you said, wiping dirt from your cheek, and then you noticed the look in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, hands gripping the edge of the stone wall with white-knuckled intensity. “What’s the matter?”

His gaze dropped to your bare fingers before snapping back to your face.

"Why are you not wearing your rings?" he asked, his tone colder than usual.

You blinked. The question caught you off guard, and a wave of amusement flooded over you.

“What?” you asked, incredulity mixed with humor. "I just didn’t want to get them dirty. I’ve been in the garden all day with the girls.”

His eyes narrowed in disbelief. "You think I care about that?" His voice rose a little, frustration bubbling to the surface. "You don't understand... how much it means to me—"

You stood up slowly, brushing your hands off and laughing softly. “Suguru, calm down. You’re acting like I’ve sold the rings for magic potions or something,” you teased, holding them out to him with a playful grin.

The sudden tension in the air seemed to break with your words. He stared at the rings, then back at you, his expression wavering between annoyance and relief. He wasn’t sure whether to be mad or laugh at himself for overreacting.

But when you walked toward him, digging in your pocket, then placing the rings back on his hand with an amused smirk, he couldn’t help but release a breath he didn’t know he was holding. His arms pulled you into a tight embrace, his chin resting against the top of your head.

"I was worried, okay?" he muttered. "I've done so much for you, and I... I couldn’t figure out what was going on."

You snorted, wrapping your arms around him. "You’re a disaster sometimes, you know that?"

"I’m just... protective," he mumbled, his voice now laced with a touch of vulnerability.

"You’re sweet," you said, smiling up at him, "but a little too protective for your own good sometimes."

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the small, tender smile from forming on his lips.

“I can’t help it when it comes to you... And these,” he added, tapping the rings, “are more important than you realize.”

You chuckled softly, your fingers tracing the edges of his rings.

"I know, Suguru. But I’m not going anywhere. I just didn’t want to ruin them in the dirt. I still love you just as much."

His hands gently cupped your face as he gazed down at you. “I know. But if you ever take them off again, make sure I’m there when you do."

You raised an eyebrow. “You want to be the one to take them off for me?” you teased.

A smile tugged at his lips. “Maybe I’ll start taking them off myself, then.”

You laughed, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the lips. His arms tightened around you, the world outside of the garden fading into the background.

Your laugh echoed in the air, soft and sweet, as the tension between you melted into a comfortable warmth. Suguru leaned his forehead against yours, his breath a little ragged from the release of his worries.

"You're impossible, you know that?" you whispered, pressing your lips against his.

"Only when it comes to you," he replied softly, his smile genuine and fond. "But I love you anyway."

Toji:

It was a late afternoon when Toji returned home, exhausted but relieved to be done with another job. He stepped into the quiet apartment, the faint smell of Megumi’s favorite snacks still lingering in the air. It had been a good day for the boy, he’d told Toji earlier that he’d had fun at the park with you.

Toji was just about to toss his jacket aside and relax when something on the bathroom counter caught his eye. His wedding ring. But... not hers. Her band was sitting alone next to the sink, glinting in the dim light, empty.

His heart skipped a beat.

His stomach twisted. He couldn’t breathe for a second.

He picked up her ring, turning it over in his hands as if some answer would magically appear. But nothing came. The silence in the bathroom was suffocating, and his chest began to tighten as his mind spiraled into chaos.

She wouldn't... But the thought was there, like a seed growing inside him.

Shit. Not again.

It had happened once before—his ex, the woman who had broken his trust in ways that still haunted him. That memory burned his skin like acid as the anger surged through him. He could feel the old rage coming back, the bitterness of betrayal cutting deeper than ever before.

He paced in a circle, trying to make sense of it. His mind raced—had she really gone that far? Were they just another statistic, another couple destroyed by his own mistrust? He couldn’t imagine it. Not with her.

But there it was: the absence of her ring. What else was he supposed to think?

His hands trembled as he grabbed his phone, fists clenching around it as he typed out a text to Shiu: She’s gone. I fucking knew it. Packing. She’s been seeing someone else.

The words were harsh, but they felt right in the moment. The ring was gone, the reminder of what they had was now nothing but a cruel joke. He stormed into the bedroom, ripping open the closet doors. His mind was working too fast to think straight—he started shoving clothes into a bag, his chest tight. He should have never trusted her. Never allowed himself to be vulnerable.

He allowed her to become a stepmother to Megumi, let her get close to his son. And now, this. How could I be so stupid? he thought bitterly.

Toji’s blood boiled, and his mind spiraled further into the pit of grief and disbelief. He’d let his guard down, let her become a part of his life, a part of his family, and now this? He slammed a fist against the wall, shaking with fury.

An hour passed. He didn’t care. The world outside continued as usual, but in here, in his heart, everything was falling apart. He couldn’t do this again. He wasn’t going to let someone else ruin him.

Then, the sound of the door clicking open interrupted his spiral.

He turned, eyes wild, ready to unleash all of his pent-up rage.

And then he saw you. Megumi was holding your hand, looking at him confused, but his gaze didn’t linger long on the kid.

“Is everything okay?” she asked cautiously, eyeing the half-packed bag by the door.

"Where the hell is your ring?" Toji's voice was low, laced with the venom he was trying to suppress. He crossed his arms over his chest, staring her down. "Where's your fucking wedding ring?"

She blinked at him. "What?"

Toji's glare didn’t soften, and he lifted her ring from the counter, letting it dangle between his fingers. "I thought we were past this bullshit. Thought you’d at least have the decency to—"

She deadpanned, and without a word, raised her hand to his face. His eyes followed her hand, expecting some gesture of defiance, some excuse. But then he froze, seeing the bandaged pinky and ring finger on her hand, the fabric wrapped tightly in place.

Her gaze was flat, her voice devoid of humor as she stated, “I didn’t want to lose my damn finger. It’s swollen, and I couldn’t take the risk of it getting worse. I thought you’d be worried about that.”

Toji stared at her hand, feeling the rage that had consumed him moments before start to fade, replaced by a dull ache in his chest.

“You—” He couldn’t even form a coherent sentence. He dropped her ring back onto the counter, as if the weight of it suddenly felt too much.

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his head lowering, suddenly feeling like a fool. His fists unclenched, and he rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn’t even look you in the eyes right now, but his voice cracked with regret. “I thought... I thought you were—”

"Cheating on you?" You finished the sentence for him with a quiet, amused tone, raising an eyebrow. You slowly walked over to him, your expression softening.

“Yeah,” he said, unable to hide the embarrassment in his voice. “I fucked up, huh?”

You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Toji... really? You thought I was gonna leave?” You scoffed and rolled your eyes, “I’ll make you dinner, okay? Just... next time, try asking before packing your bags.”

He let out a defeated sigh, finally lifting his eyes to meet yours. “Yeah, yeah. I overreacted. I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

You kissed him... which quickly turned into more, until:

"Ew."

You broke the kiss, laughing lightly.

Sukuna:

It was an ordinary day at the palace—at least, that’s what it seemed like. The sun streamed through the large paper windows, casting a soft light on the traditional tatami mats, where you were seated, diligently working on your calligraphy with Uraume. The brush glided over the paper as the delicate strokes formed beautiful characters, ink staining the tips of your fingers as you focused.

Your wedding ring, that simple yet precious band that bound you to the King of Curses, was nowhere to be seen. It was placed on the nearby wooden table to avoid smudging ink on its gleaming surface.

Sukuna’s voice broke the silence.

"Where is it?"

The low, thunderous tone could only mean one thing: Sukuna was furious. His eyes—four of them—narrowed as they scanned you, focusing on your left hand where the ring should’ve been. His breath quickened as the pressure in the room thickened.

Uraume, sensing the tension, stepped back slowly, not daring to make a sound. You, however, remained seated, doing your best to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. You couldn’t help it—Sukuna? Jealous? Oh, this was going to be entertaining.

"What are you talking about?" you asked innocently, not lifting your gaze from the ink-stained paper.

"The ring, woman," Sukuna growled. "You know exactly what I mean. Where is it?" His voice shook with a barely contained fury as he approached.

You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him. The air around him crackled with murderous intent, but it was impossible to ignore the mix of frustration and… confusion? Ah, he didn’t know what to think, and that only made it funnier.

"I left it off for now," you replied casually, trying to mask your amusement. "I didn’t want to get ink on it while I was working with Uraume."

"Don’t lie," Sukuna hissed, his four arms crossing tightly in front of him. "You’re telling me you, a lowly human, can’t even remember where you left your precious wedding ring?" His voice was cutting, sharp as a blade.

You almost snorted, but you swallowed the laugh just in time. Oh, Sukuna really was something else when he was jealous. The sheer audacity of him to think you’d even remotely be unfaithful was beyond hilarious.

You stood up slowly, turning to face him as he loomed over you like an ominous cloud. His eyes were wild, like he was ready to destroy everything in his path.

"Is that why you’re so upset?" you teased, the corners of your mouth curling up. "You really think I would take off my ring to… go play around with someone else?"

Sukuna’s gaze flickered. His four arms twitched as if to lash out at you, but he held himself back. The tension in the air was suffocating.

"Don’t play with me," he growled, his voice dripping with venom. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

You couldn’t help yourself anymore. The laughter bubbled up inside you, and you laughed, covering your mouth as you did so. Sukuna stared at you, his eyes burning with confusion and fury. He looked like a king who’d just been betrayed, but somehow even more terrifying in that moment.

"Oh, come on," you teased further, walking up to him and standing on tiptoe to whisper in his ear. "You didn’t seem to think I was a ‘lowly human’ a couple of days ago when you were pounding into me like a savage."

Sukuna’s eyes widened in surprise, and his face turned a shade darker, his body stiffening with rage.

"Don’t you dare," he spat, his four arms reaching out and grabbing you by the waist with a force that would make most humans break. But you? You weren’t just any human. You were his human.

"And now you’re talking about it?" he demanded, his voice dangerously low. "You’re trying to make me look like a fool, huh?"

Despite his anger, you couldn’t suppress your grin.

"You’re the one who’s acting like a fool, Sukuna. Jealousy doesn’t suit you."

His eyes narrowed further, but he didn’t admit he was wrong. No, he wouldn’t do that. Instead, with one swift motion, he picked you up, his grip unyielding. His four arms surrounded you, holding you close.

"You’re lucky I don’t kill every single person in this palace for daring to let you out of my sight without that damn ring on your finger," he muttered through gritted teeth.

You couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The fact that Sukuna—the Sukuna—was losing his temper over something as trivial as a ring was almost too ridiculous. Almost.

"All this over a ring?" you asked, raising an eyebrow, still smiling. "Really, Sukuna? You almost killed everyone because I took off my ring for a couple of hours?"

He didn’t respond, but his grip tightened around you, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you toward your shared quarters. As he walked, you wrapped your arms around his neck, not able to stop the teasing smile on your face.

"You’re kind of cute when you're jealous, you know that?" you teased, nuzzling his neck lightly.

Sukuna’s eyes flickered to you, the hint of a growl rumbling in his chest, but he didn’t say anything. The king of curses was undeniably a jealous man, even if he refused to admit it.

And when he finally laid you down on the futon in your quarters, his hands were soft—almost gentle—as he placed a hand on your cheek, his expression still dark but… not as angry as before.

"I’m not going to let you out of my sight again," he murmured, eyes burning with possessiveness. "You’re mine."

You smiled, reaching up to touch his face. "I’m yours," you whispered back.

And just like that, all the tension in the air seemed to melt away, leaving only the comfort of being together.

Shiu:

Shiu Kong was not a man prone to sentimental gestures or overt displays of affection. His love was quiet, steady, and often hidden beneath his sharp tongue and stern demeanor. But he was observant—painfully so. It was this keen eye for detail that had always served him well in his work. Today, however, it left him grappling with a tight knot of unease that coiled around his chest like a curse.

You hadn’t been wearing your wedding ring.

Shiu noticed it that morning when he passed you in the kitchen. You were distracted, bustling around with your usual energy, and when you handed him his coffee, his sharp eyes caught the faint, bare line on your finger.

No glint of the ring he’d placed there.

It wasn’t like you to forget something like that. Shiu wasn’t the type to jump to conclusions, but the thought nagged at him throughout the day. The image of your bare hand replayed in his mind as he handled the paperwork on his desk, and when the hours dragged on, so did his thoughts.

Were you upset about something? Did the ring bother you? Or—no, that was ridiculous—was it deliberate?

His workday felt endless. By the time he stepped into the apartment, his shoulders were tight with tension. Shiu kicked off his shoes and loosened his tie, his heart heavier than he cared to admit.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, bright and cheerful. “You’re home! Dinner’s almost ready.”

He stepped into the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. But you knew him too well to miss the way his brow furrowed or the faint stiffness in his posture.

“You okay?” you asked, tilting your head.

Shiu’s lips pressed into a thin line. He never shied away from confrontation, but this… he wasn’t sure how to phrase it. Still, he was Shiu Kong, and hesitation wasn’t in his nature.

“You weren’t wearing your ring this morning,” he said bluntly, his voice even but laced with an edge of something vulnerable.

You blinked, startled, before looking down at your hand as if just realizing the absence yourself. “Oh!” You quickly held up both hands, palms open. “It’s not what you think. I took them to the jeweler to get cleaned today. I didn’t want to forget and leave them on, so I took them off last night.”

His gaze softened, the tension in his shoulders easing as he exhaled a slow, almost imperceptible breath. “That’s it?”

“Of course that’s it!” you said, laughing. “What, did you think I was mad at you or something?”

Shiu clicked his tongue, his usual deadpan expression returning, though the faintest flicker of relief danced in his eyes. “Tch. You could’ve mentioned it. I’m not a mind reader, you know.”

You stepped closer, reaching for his hand and squeezing it with a warm smile. “Sorry, I didn’t think it’d be such a big deal. I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

You winked and he grumbled something under his breath, but his fingers curled around yours, holding on just a little tighter than usual.

Later that night, when you slipped the ring back onto your finger and flashed it proudly at him, Shiu allowed himself the barest smirk. He didn’t say anything, of course, but the way his hand lingered on your back when he walked past spoke volumes.

Maybe he wasn’t the romantic type, but damn if he didn’t love seeing that ring on your finger.

A/N: oki so this was an attempt, i dunno if this is any good but hey, you live you learn

Masterlist

:)

[mysunshinetemptress]

Smarter

Smarter

Insight 1 Insight 2

Leah Williamson x ??

Warnings: family argument, rushed writing it’s 1am

Leah hadn’t seen any of her family in weeks, not since her granny had come to the house demanding her ring back but today was importation, today was Jacob’s day and she had promised to be there, you had promised to be there and so she found herself stood on the sidelines of her brothers champion ship final with his team. Her family stood on the other side, with no sign of you.

The match is a blur for everyone, for Leah, her family and her brother whose playing, her brother whose playing his championship match but all he can focus on is the tension between his family and his sister.

His sister who he has idolised since he was a little kid, who he wanted to be just like when he grew up.

Leah had walked down to the sidelines when the match had finished Jacob’s team coming out on top, “Jacob, Jacob, Oye Jacob.” Leah yelled across the field trying to get her younger brother’s attention only he ignored her, he couldn’t look at her, he felt sick to his stomach every time he did.

But it was Leah, and so he found him self stopping momentarily meters away from everyone else. That was all Leah needed to race towards him running up to the younger boy “Hey mate I’m talking to you.” Jacob rolled her “what do you want.” Leah can’t say she’s surprised by his reaction but it hurts her none the less “I just-well I wanted to see you-see how you were, to eh to congratulate you-it was great game mate.” Jacob shakes his head before turning.

Leah grabs his arm panic flaring within her at the thought of losing her younger brother too, “Jacob please.” Jacob harshly tugs his arm away from staring at her like she has caused him harm “no Leah, I-why-how could you” Leah shakes her head her mind racing “I-i don’t know, I can’t lie to you-I don’t know.”

Jacob scoffs “Bullshit, of course you know, this isn’t some one night mistake Leah, this has been going on for ages, and you-you have the nerve to say you don’t know, you don’t know why you cheated on a woman who loves you more than anything, a woman who has given you everything been there for everything, for everyone and asked for nothing in return, the woman you married” Jacob’s squared up to her now, taller now than he was when they first started to have arguments.

Leah feels her throat closing “ it-I made a mistake, but I don’t love her-it’s Y/n.” Jacob hates the way his heart breaks at the sight of tears welling in Leah’s eyes but he doesn’t stop “no it was, you’ve fucked it up, you cheated on your wife, your pregnant wife might I add.” Leah shakes her head “I-I didn’t know.” Jacob lets out a humourless laugh “why cause you would have stopped then.” Leah doesn’t say anything “oh my god, you would have stopped cheating on her, you wouldn’t have said anything, you would-you would have dumped that slag and gone on like you had done nothing wrong.” Leah tries to grab his hand as he begins to walk away again.

“Jacob please.” Jacob keeps walking as Leah chases him “Have you stopped seeing her.” Jacob hates that he’s asked such a question but he needs to know, and the silence is all it takes “She-she’s helping me get through this I-i have no one.” Jacob scoffs “I wonder why.”

Amanda watch’s from a distance her heart breaking at the sight of her kids fighting, at the sight of her youngest slowly starting to hate his favourite person in the world.

“I used to idolise you, I -I wanted to be you.” Jacob’s voice is quite as he admits it all to Leah, leah who wants nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole, to put her out of her misery. “I used to sit and watch you both, watch how soft she made you, how loved up you both were and I used to wish to have that, I used to wish to be you.” Jacob shakes his head “I can’t believe I wasted all that time wishing, when you’ve become such an asshole so far up her own arse that she has destroyed the only thing she’s ever wanted, or at least the old version of her ever wanted.” Leah can’t say anything else can’t move as her heart breaks again like it has so many times recently.

But her phone lights up in her hand as the screen shows HER name and Jacob shakes his head, he’s not angry anymore just sad, disappointed and sad “She hasn’t stopped crying, I-I’m starting to think she might never stop, even-even when the baby comes.” Jacob doesn’t say anything else instead he just leaves her there standing in the middle of the pitch as he walks over to Amanda head, Leah doesn’t try anymore, she’s tired and soaked and her stupid phone won’t stop buzzing and all she wishes for in that moment is for you. But she’s lost you, lost them, lost everyone.

[heylittleriotact]

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: the majority of death care professionals I’ve worked with have some sort of fucked up mortician-origin-story and got into funerals in the first place to either try and demystify death or cope with their trauma by constantly exposing themselves to it, and that’s literally what Emmrich has done his entire life and it’s why I love him so much.

Under the cut for some pretty raw death talk, including infant death, because fuck it - there’s a reason this pixel man lives rent free in my head and I’m about to get personal.

My Mom very unexpectedly and traumatically lost a full term pregnancy when I was 7. The first corpse I ever saw or touched was my dead sister. The first baby I held in my arms was dead.

What the fuck do you mean she’s dead? Why is she dead? She’s a baby. Babies don’t die. Old people die. Bad guys in movies die. Babies don’t.

And then from there it was like… months of infuriating and condescending bullshit from well-meaning people just wanting to reconcile with something that can’t really be reconciled with: people said a lot of stuff to me like, “it was God’s plan” or, “it wasn’t meant to be” or, “at least she didn’t suffer” or “God needed her more” and loads of other trite bullshit in the same vein, and it really, really fucked with me as a child.

I watched it destroy my already unstable mother and cause her to take out her complicated grief on me - her abusive tendencies sharply escalated after the loss. I think she resented me. I think she resented seeing how much the loss hurt me and felt that I had no right to be as upset as I was. I think she didn’t know how to support a grieving child when she didn’t even have the tools to support herself.

I felt so isolated and confused. I became obsessed with death and heaven and angels and the idea of a soul, and as I got older, I couldn’t let go of the belief that no child - or person for that matter - should have to go through what I did.

So I became a funeral director. Because if I could help one child in a horrific situation feel seen and validated, then I’d made a difference. If I could help one despondent mother towards the right resources, or even just fucking make her feel seen and validated too, maybe she’d wind up in a better place than mine did.

I wanted to say fuck you to death. I wanted to prove my defiance by helping the living people left behind pick up the pieces. I wanted to learn to handle the unavoidable, permanent, unfeeling existence of death with the cautious reverence that one would employ when handling a venomous snake. And I did. I helped a lot of people and it fed my soul in insurmountable ways.

I became that weird death obsessed friend who couldn’t talk about anything EXCEPT funerals and death and souls and embalming and what happens to your body when you die. If you had a curious question about death or funerals? I would jump on the chance to answer it for you. Needed help with the loss of a loved one? I’ve gotchu. I became The Death Guy (I guess I still kind of am - I’m still happy to front questions and help friends and family navigate death and funerals because the knowledge is all still there.)

Eventually it became a great way for me to bury other traumas that happened to me (an abusive childhood, sexual assault and all sorts of abuse at the hands of a partner) and just not really deal with them because I couldn’t: I didn’t have time to deal with my own shit because other people needed help more than me. After all, they were dealing with a death. My own problems were small in comparison, right?

It all caught up with me after living and working through the nightmare that was COVID, and I burnt out super hard, had a small breakdown, hit the sauce super hard for awhile, and developed a lovely anxiety disorder and full blown insomnia. Counselling and a career change have helped immensely, but yeah…

I obsess over this old man as much as I do because I see a lot of my own shit and insecurities and fears and unhealthy coping mechanisms in him, and I just want everything to be okay for him, because it ended up being okay for me. It just took a lot of fucking work to get there.

To be gifted a character as complex and real as Emmrich is some once in a lifetime shit, and I’m so glad he exists. Get his ass to therapy.

I'm glad we agree that Emmrich has an absolutely unconscionable amount of rizz. However, I also have a great appreciation for his proficiency at the great honored pastime of Being A Fucking Weirdo. My man goes to work at the Death Factory every single day and copes with his deep deep fear of dying by?? Cosplaying a skeleton? Taash was NOT WRONG when they called him the corpse guy. Even amongst other necromancers, he is THEE corpse guy! His best friend is a skeleton and he hasn't left the Cemetary Where He Lives for years. He is 90% ookie spooks and 10% bisexual disaster man. The only reason he's so suave and smooth is because the ookie spooks are actually load-bearing and manage to utterly obscure what a nervous wreck he is at all times of day. It's hard to give into the existential dread when you're spending all of your time saying shit like, "The tapestry of the Fade holds many threads."

I just know that this man is holding back the mother of all existential crises. He all but has it after he yoinks Rook out of the Fade but he bottles it back up so quick you KNOW that wasn't the whole thing. You KNOW that Rook is going to wake up in the middle of the night six months after Elgar'nan bites it and there Emmrich will be, lich or not, staring blankly at the ceiling and saying, "Darling, what does it all mean?" Emmrich Volkarin is a sexy, sexy man who needs therapy and some sleep and maybe an extended sabbatical from Dead People University.

[ink-stainedkiss]

Husband Sukuna Ryomen Headcannons

Husband!Sukuna who is completely wrapped around your finger, but would never make it known. He has slaughtered thousands, is feared by his own village, and is a horror story to children. Yet, he enjoys resting his head in your lap and falls asleep peacefully as you play with his hair. As one would expect, Sukuna wouldn’t dare to show the soft side of himself, as it’s reserved for only his adoring wife.

Husband!Sukuna who feels off whenever you aren’t right next to him. No matter where, if you aren’t standing with him, he shifts uncomfortably and ends up calling for your presence. When Sukuna realized he had these unfamiliar feelings for you, it was decided that you could never get rid of him.

Husband!Sukuna who is too stubborn for his own good and can not for the life of him express his feelings. His bull-headed attitude always made disagreements turn into petty fights. You had learned that it’s better to give him space, rather than go back and forth.

Sukuna had done it again. He had killed off an innocent servant without a second thought. You couldn’t help but feel guilty that Sukuna didn’t face you with his merciless personality. There were only a selective few that the King of Curses didn’t wish death upon if they served no purpose. As you got word of why the poor servant was cut into pieces, you felt frustration build in you at the insignificant reason for her demise. You marched to your shared chamber, a deep furrow in your brow, and unsurprisingly, Sukuna was ever peaceful, reading a book on your bed.

“Is something wrong?” He hummed boredly, not looking up to meet your hardened gaze,”As a matter of fact, yes.” The king raised a curious brow, but shared no more interest,”What is the issue?” Standing unwaveringly, you plead your case,”You killed off a servant girl.” Sukuna nodded shortly,”I did. Is that all?”

Your jaw tightened,”You did it with no reason at all.” Sukuna gave you an indifferent look, clearly not seeing why you were upset,”She knocked over one of your vases, I had every right to kill her,” Your hands turned into fist,”No you didn’t. It was just painted clay, we could have gotten another one from the town’s potter.”

Sukuna set his book to the side, anger beginning to grow,”That was a gift. Are you telling me that you show no care toward my gracious offering?” You pinched the bridge of your nose,”No Sukuna. I loved the vase, it was beautiful,” You gave him a desperate look,”But that girl didn’t deserve to die over a simple mistake.” He looked you up and down, his tense expression unmoving.

“I detest your ability to forgive someone so easily.” You felt your hope run out at his heartless response. You exhaled softly, beginning to turn away. Sukuna noticed your change and he felt a sharp pang in his chest. Moving towards the door, you turned over your shoulder,” I apologize for wasting your time,”

Sukuna reached out and tried to call for you, but his chamber door was already shut. The king tossed his head back against the headboard and let out an audible groan.

Husband!Sukuna who replays your saddened voice over and over again and realizes he has to make it up to you. It was clear you were passionate about this topic and all Sukuna did was make it worse. So even if he’s completely terrible at voicing his apology, he understands that’s the only way to make you feel better.

Husband!Sukuna who seeks you out all throughout the estate, rushing past the workers and making them jump at his fervency. After searching for what seemed like forever, he goes to the last place in his mind. The gardens. This place was for Sukuna to rest in and for Sukuna only, that was until he found you. The two of you shared the sacred space often, just whenever you needed a moment of quiet. The garden was fenced off and only a certain few could enter the premises.

Husband!Sukuna who lets out a sigh of relief as he finds you sitting alone near a thin river.

Sukuna calmly walked over, sitting down next to you, and it was almost comical to see this beast of a man resting by your side. The silence between you two was agonizing, but you seem unbothered. The king carefully moved his head, revealing a pure white rose,”I plucked this for you. Its beauty reminds of you.”

Despite your anger, his words made your heart flutter, and you took it quietly. Your fingers fiddled with the delicate petals,”Thank you,” Sukuna wasn’t greatly pleased with your words. His mind ran laps around what he should say and eventually he spoke up,”I will try to be more…pitying.” Your head whipped around, facing your husband in shock,”Really? Would you do that?”

He let out a lenient sigh, giving you a short nod,”If it makes you happy, then I shall.” Sukuna knew you were giving him those pathetic eyes that made him feel all warm and gross, so he didn’t meet your gaze. Before he could continue, your body was leaping onto his, making the King fall onto the grass with a small groan.

His face was decorated in tiny kisses and you thanked him endlessly,”Oh, thank you Kuna. I’m forever in your debt.” Sukuna rolled his eyes, staring up at you as you halted your persistent kisses,”Don’t say such foolish things. You’re in no one’s debt and you never will be.” His words made your smile wider and once again he was smothered in your lips.

It seemed like merely a fable that the King of Curses was letting out belly laughs as his wife showed him so much affection.

Husband!Sukuna who tells himself that nothing, no living or dead creature shall take you away from him, and he would rain hell on the earth if they dared to try.

[cybrasigilism]

She’s Like Morphine (Player 380 x F!Reader)

content warnings: smut | winners love winning | fingering | cunnilingus | not proofread! | out of game AU | punk rocker! semi x f!reader

character: se-mi (player 380)

A/N: this was requested to me through my messages! i was already planning on writing for se-mi so it works out perfectly :) hope you guys enjoy!

thanks to @elixk1tten for the request!

MDNI! 18+ content ahead, reader discretion is advised

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

it was supposed to be a typical friday-night gig. the same old routine. se-mi had grown accustomed to seeing a pretty girl out in the crowd every now and then, but this time, this time it was different. she felt totally unprofessional because for the first time in her whole career of being a punk musician, she couldn’t take her eyes off of one person in the crowd in this dingy little dive bar…

and of course that person, was you.

you had caught se-mi’s eye from the moment she clocked you in the crowd after performing the first song. she no longer felt like she was performing just for the sake of it as usual in that moment, but she felt as though she had to impress you, specifically. like she was singing for you. she knew that she just had to get to you after the performance was done.

after the crowd of regulars dispersed from asking for photos and autographs with se-mi, she kept her eyes peeled for you amongst the many bar patrons. to many this would seem futile, as this dive bar was completely packed. but she had practically memorized your face the moment she got a good look at you out in the crowd. she had hoped that maybe you had stuck around, so she could have a chance to put a name to the face that stunned her.

lucky for her, you had indeed chosen to stick around. se-mi wasn’t the only one who was mystified with the person she saw that night, as that was exactly how you felt when she walked up to centre stage. you felt your cheeks grow hot when she looked at you, and you could tell she was looking right at you, it wasn’t a coincidence. you pretended not to notice as se-mi approached you, nervously trying to act as though you were staring into your drink and definitely not thinking the wholly inappropriate thoughts that you definitely were.

“so, did you enjoy the show?” she chuckled, causing you to jump in your seat a bit, you turned around swiftly and realized just how closely she was actually standing next to you. you stared blankly for a moment, trying to compose yourself, before she cocked her head and asked “you alright?”

“yeah! yeah, i’m okay.” you laughed nervously, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you tried your best not to make too much eye contact. “yeah, i really loved the show.” se-mi smiled, and proceeded to ask if she could sit down, to which you quickly accepted. why wouldn’t you?

“what’s your name?” my, she was rather quick to start getting to know you, wasn’t she. you were so used to people trying to hit on you without at least getting your name first that her formality shocked you. “my name?” you echoed, earning another snicker from se-mi. “what, did you forget your own name or something?” she teased, you could feel your cheeks warm up again with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, it’s (Y/N).” you apologized, bowing your head slightly. “don’t do that, you don’t have anything to apologize for.” she said reassuringly. “i guess you’re used to assholes just coming onto you without a proper introduction, huh.”

you were dumbfounded by how well she was reading you, it’s not exactly like you had a poker face by any means but her accuracy was astounding. “how did you guess?” you rolled your eyes jokingly, taking a sip of your drink. se-mi looked you up and down before blatantly saying “well it’s pretty obvious given how gorgeous you are, i’m sure you’ve got fools tripping over themselves for you all the time.” you chuckled a bit, before tucking your hair behind your ear (a classic move i know), and thanking her. “you know, i don’t usually do this… but i was thinking something.” she started, leaning in a bit so you could hear her better. “how about you come backstage? i’d love to get to know you better, y’know, one on one.” she placed her hand on your thigh at saying the last bit, causing your temperature to spike tenfold, you were positive.

“really?” you stammered, trying not to explode at the contact she just closed between you two. “are you…are you even allowed to have me back there? i don’t have a backstage pass..” se-mi giggled and looked out into the crowd. “yeah usually that would be a problem,” she looked back at you, once more giving you the up-down, “but i think i can make an exception for you.”

⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰

of all the things you expected to happen tonight, being underneath a super hot, punk rocker with her knee between your legs was the very last thing you could have thought. it was a surprise you could even focus on thinking about how you got to this point when you had se-mi marking up your neck, biting softly every once and again. your eyes were practically glazed over as she slid her ringed hands up your shirt and beneath your bra, fingers playing with your nipples. you cried out at the cold sensation of her fingers over your breasts but at the same time you’ve never felt so good. she released herself from your neck and smirked down at you.

“you feeling good?” se-mi asked almost smugly as she toyed with the buttons on your shirt, attempting to break through to what she wanted underneath. you shook your head, barely being able to formulate a sentence before she pressed her knee into your crotch. “i’m gonna need words, baby.” something about her voice just drove you insane, as if in a trance you responded almost instantly. “god, yes.” you moaned out, grabbing at her shirt and pulling her in for a kiss. you could feel se-mi chuckle against your lips, before pulling back and taking off her own shirt. you don’t know why but the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath shocked you, but what she was about to do would shock you even further.

se-mi kissed down your torso all the way to the zipper of your jeans, to which she looked up at you as if waiting for an “okay”, which you gave. she then took the zipper in between her teeth and pulled all the way down, looking up at you all the while. you felt your core heat up as she unbuttoned your jeans and pulled them off, revealing a black, lacy pair of panties. she looked up at you with a smirk and a raised brow. “you were so hoping something like this would happen, weren’t you?” se-mi snickered. you blushed and turned away, but she only laughed before affixing your leg above her shoulder. “no fault there, i’m not about to judge someone for being prepared.”

you squeezed your eyes shut, too nervous to maintain eye contact as she pulled your panties to the side to reveal just how soaked she had gotten you. “shit, how quickly did you get like this?” she asked, practically forcing you to open your eyes. “i..um..” you were well beyond the point of speaking a full sentence now. “i dunno… just need you.” se-mi could feel how desperate you were for her, hell the evidence was literally right in front of her face, and she decided to get a taste of just exactly how much you needed her.

your back forcibly arched as she licked up your pussy, you could tell she wanted to take her time with you and god, you hoped she did. she drew moans and whimpers from you as she sucked on your clit, moaning while she did so herself. you took a handful of her black hair in your hand when she eventually inserted two fingers into your hole, still sucking and licking and your clit. her motions were slow and deliberate, she wanted you to feel every thrust as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

“ ‘s too- too much.. ‘m gonna.. ‘m gonna…” you managed to utter through your whines, she released herself from your clit, fingers still working your pussy. “you’re gonna what, sweetheart?” she taunted, her motions growing quicker as tears formed in your eyes. “‘m so close, p—lease!” you cry out. feeling your walls clench around her fingers, she could definitely tell. “you’re gonna cum?” se-mi repeated, growing breathy herself. “yeah? then do it. cum for me.” she ordered, going back to sucking and licking your clit. you were practically seeing stars at this point, thoughts and sense be damned, all you could think about was how good se-mi was making you feel, and you did not want her stopping.

your legs began to shake and your grip on her hair had not loosened, you clenched down on her fingers once more before coming off the edge. se-mi’s pace finally slowed down and before you knew it, she had moved from your pussy to your lips, kissing you softly. you could taste yourself on her lips, but you were so far gone you certainly did not care. se-mi took in the state of you and chuckled, before putting her shirt back on and laying you across her lap.

“how about next time, you go down on me?” she suggested, combing her hands through your hair. you nodded, still in a daze. you couldn’t think of anything else but her.

se-mi was like a drug, she was your morphine.

⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅

thanks for reading! and as usual advice and constructive criticism are always appreciated and requested, I’m constantly looking for ways to improve my writing :>

[lnfours]

focal point ☆ chapter 4 | l.n

summary: as taylor swift once said: 'in a world of boys, he's a gentleman'.

warnings: art student!reader, best friend/college student!oscar, college student!lando, slight enemies to lovers!au, slight grumpy x sunshine, unedited, some filler stuff this chapter, a hint of fluff here and there, and are we finally getting somewhere with this??? idk????

message from jordan: happy new year, everyone! i hope you all had a fun and safe holiday season, and i hope this year is kinder to you than previous ones <3 thank you for being so patient with me on getting something out for you guys. i'm struggling a bit with writer's block, but hopefully i can push through and some more writing done by the end of this week :) again, thank you for being so patient. sending you all my love, always <33

series masterlist | listen to the playlist

the sunlight pouring into your bedroom windows made you open your eyes. however, you immediately regretted it. a pounding sensation filling your head the minute your eyes met the light. you let out a groan, your hand coming up to your temples as you buried yourself back into your pillows. 

“here,” a voice said from next to you, “take this.”

your eyes flew open again, lando’s figure coming into frame as he held out the bottle of advil and a glass of water towards you. you blinked at him as he softly smiled, nodding back towards the medicine bottle. 

“thanks,” you mumbled, looking around the room for any signs of what could’ve happened last night. you swallowed the pills down with the glass of water that he had in his other hand. he took the glass back from you, leaning off the foot of the bed to place it on your desk. 

“did we…?” you trailed off, sitting up. you had on a pair of pajama pants and an unfamiliar hoodie, a pair of clothes you don’t remember changing into. 

he shook his head, a soft smile on his face, “no,”

“thank god,” you sighed, placing your pounding head on your knees.

“did have to carry you out of the party though,” he said, “lily’s the one who got you changed. hoodie is mine, though. you were shivering on the walk back here last night. i slept on the floor, don’t worry.”

you looked over at the floor next to the bed, now noticing the folded up blanket and pillow on the carpet. you ignored how your heart tightened in your chest as his gesture, maybe he was a gentleman.

“i don’t even remember having that much to drink,” you said, “was it really that bad?”

“the guys convinced you to play a few rounds of beer pong,” he chuckled softly, “you suck, by the way.”

you let out a soft laugh, “yeah, need to work on my skills, i guess.”

“yeah, you can say that,” he laughed softly, “you hungry? there’s this really great spot off campus if you want something to eat.”

you nodded, “yeah, just let me change and brush my teeth and stuff.”

he nodded, biting his lip a bit to hold back the smile threatening to break out on his face, “yeah, sure! i’ll uhm.. wait for you out here.”

he jabbed his thumb over his shoulder towards the door as you nodded. when he closed the bedroom door behind him, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. you weren’t sure what had flipped, but suddenly he was making you giddy like a high school girl with a crush. and honestly, you weren’t sure if you were that mad about it. 

you moved as quickly as your hungover state let you, throwing on a pair of jeans and shoes before brushing your teeth quickly and grabbing your things. 

you walked out to the living room, spotting him on the couch as he scrolled on his phone. you smiled when he looked up at you, putting his phone in the pocket of his hoodie as he stood up. 

“ready?

you nodded, the two of you walking out of the apartment and towards the parking lot where he kept his car. you watched as he unlocked the doors, opening the passenger side door for you. you thanked him, smiling softly before he shut the door gently behind you. he jogged around to his side before getting in. 

“here,” he said, handing you his phone, “play whatever music you want.”

you held his phone in your hand, “do you want me to put in your passcode or do you..?”

“oh, it’s 4444.” he said, backing out of the parking space as you snickered. he looked over at you with a soft laugh as you shook your head, scrolling through his spotify.

“what?”

“your passcode is a bunch of 4s?”

he shrugged, “it’s easy to remember,”

“also easy for someone to get into your phone.” you said and he shrugged, making a right out of the school campus. 

you shuffled one of his recently played playlists, humming along to the songs you knew. you watched the view of the town out the window, thankful that your headache had slowly started to go away. 

you didn’t notice, too wrapped up in the beauty of england to see the way he looked over at you occasionally. he smiled to himself, wondering if you knew how gorgeous you were when you were in your own world. he had seen it in you before, especially when you’d lose yourself talking about art or working on the project. something about you being so unaware of your beauty made his heart rate pick up. 

he pulled into the lot of the diner, finding a parking spot before putting the car in park. he made it a mission to open all the doors for you, making you softly laugh and thank him every time before the hostess led you to the booth seat in the corner of the small diner. 

you flipped through the menu, “how’d you find this place?”

“i’ve been coming here since my first year,” he said, “they have the best pancakes in my opinion. food’s definitely better than the cafeteria on campus.”

“anything’s better than that place,” you said, “not hard to beat.”

he nodded with a soft laugh, “very true.”

after ordering your food, you ended up finding yourselves in conversation, talking about anything and everything.

“are you heading back home for the holidays?” he asked, taking a bite of his food as you shrugged your shoulders.

“probably not,” you said, “let’s just say things with my family haven’t always been…” “picture perfect?” he asked, finishing the sentence for you.

“yeah,” you said, “i normally just head back home with lily for the holidays, but with her new secret man, i don’t want to intrude if she’s planning on bringing him.”

“still haven’t met him yet?”

you shook your head, “surprisingly no. i don’t want to push her, but i really wanna know who the guy is.”

he nodded, “yeah, i’m in the same boat. oscar’s been talking about this girl, but i haven’t seen her around.”

“yeah, i texted him the other day and he said he had plans with her,” you said, “haven’t had our usual study sessions in a while.”

“hold on,” he said, “you don’t think…”

you furrowed your eyebrows, confused at what he was getting at until it clicked. you looked at him with wide eyes, “oh, god. i don’t know.”

“surely she’d say something to you, right?”

“i’d think so,” you shrugged, “unless she wasn’t sure it was going to be a serious thing, then i’m not sure.”

“i’ll try to get more out of him the next time i see him,” he said, finishing off the last few bites of his breakfast, “now i’m curious.”

you nodded, finishing your food as well, “me too,”

the waitress came back with the check, you fishing your wallet from your bag, but he was quicker in getting his card out. 

you sent him a look as he smiled at the girl, thanking her before his eyes landed back on you. his smile only got wider at the look you were sending him, “what?”

“how much do i owe you?”

he shook his head, “don’t worry about it.”

“lando-”

“nope, it was my idea,” he chuckled back at you, “you can get it next time if you really want to.”

next time?

you sighed softly before giving into him, watching as he signed his name on the receipt, “i guess i can live with that. thank you, by the way.”

he nodded, the two of you making your way out of the small diner, “anytime.”

“probably a long shot and you totally don’t have to if you don’t want to,” you said, walking towards his car, “but did you wanna watch a movie or something when we get back?”

he smiled as he opened the car door for you, “yeah, sure,”

you sent him another smile as you got in the car, feeling the same giddy feeling you felt earlier. 

whatever this feeling was, you really didn’t want it to go away.

[darnell-la]

A little dark but how about Logan slipping the reader an aphrodisiac into their drink or something to make her have sex with him. And since he is their drive home, she becomes desperate and needy for a release from him despite not understanding what’s happening to her is she’s usually kinda innocent

note: no one will understand how much I need this.

———

“L-Logan, how long until we’re at the school?” Y/n asked as the throbbing between her legs ached more. She’s never been the type to get turned on. She usually has to build up to it, but tonight, she couldn’t help but squirm in her seat.

“Maybe a half an hour,” Logan lied, knowing they were just down the road. “Fuck,” Y/n said under her breath as she shifted in her seat, embarrassed about how much she wanted to touch herself for at least a second. She needed it to go away.

“Why, what’s up, bub?” Logan asked, acting innocent until he didn’t have to. “Nothing, just- Maybe step on it,” y/n said, meaning for him to drive faster.

“Well, it ain’t hard to see something's going on with you. Just tell me, bub,” Logan said, but y/n couldn’t. “It’s fine-“ y/n tried lying again, but Logan wanted her to tell him what he knew was happening.

“Y/n, don’t start with this secretive shit, okay? I wanna know what’s up with you,” Logan spoke as he placed a hand on her thigh, wanting her to feel more throbbing through her body.

Logan could smell her hours ago. He always smelled her, but after he slipped those pills into her, he could barely shop being around her. He neared to rip her to shreds a while ago, but he held himself together. He needed her to start.

“Look, don’t start laughing when I tell you this — I-I don’t know what’s up, but I’m, like, really fucking throbbing right now. Like, I feel like I’ve been edging myself for hours,”

Y/n and Logan had been friends for a while, so the way she spoke about her situation didn’t phase him. She was just afraid the situation would throw him off.

“What do you mean? Like, you’re honey or something?” Logan asked, feeling his cock pulse through his jeans. He knew he was close to starting what he’d been wanting to do for years.

“Yeah, I guess — Look, just get home. I can’t hold my shit,” y/n said as she crossed her legs. “You need help?” Logan asked, making y/n remember his hand was still over her thigh. She felt a small grip, which made her heart drop.

“N-No, no, I’m good,” y/n said, slowly moving Logan’s hand away because his touch was too much for her. She’s never actually thought of him in any sexual way, but now, she’s realizing the effect he could have on her.

“Why? We’re friends here, and I don’t want you pissy the whole ride back,” Logan said, but y/n shook her head and pushed at his hand that tried to make it back to her thigh.

“I’m okay, I swear — J-Just get us home,” Logan sighed with an eye roll as he pulled off to the side of the dark road. “Logan, please don’t fuck around,” y/n whined as Logan put the car in park and hopped out.

“Logan, what is this about,” y/n leaned back in her seat as Logan walked around the car. The more time that passed, the worse she felt. She felt like she was going to explode at any small rub on her bud.

“We’re far out, and you don’t look like you’re gonna make it,” Logan said as he opened the door. Before y/n could speak, the man pulled under out of the car and pushed her upper body down on her seat.

“Logan, what the hell!” Y/n shouted as she leaned up, not comprehending what was happening until Logan forced her leggings down. “Hey!” Y/n tried turning around, but Logan pushed her back down on the seat.

“Oh, relax — We’re adults — It’s not like you haven’t done this before,” Logan said as he tugged in his own clothes. “Yeah, but not outside. In the dark! In public!” Y/n said but stopped moving.

The woman allowed Logan to roam her body. If he was willing to do this, why would she stop him?

“Just stay still, bub. I’ll help you,” Logan said before he pushed at her cunt. Y/n was surprised at how fast he was willing to help her and be with her. If he wanted, he could’ve rubbed her while he continued driving.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Logan pinned y/n down as she twitched and squirmed. “Fuck,” the young lady moaned low as she tried her best to take him in with ease.

One hand of Logan’s gripped y/n’s ass to spread. He noticed he was probably too big for y/n to handle, but he didn’t go through all of this for nothing.

“Sssh, bub, you’ll be fine — Just fine,” Logan whispered as he continued pushing into her until he was fully in. “Oh, yeah — That’s it,” the man basically growled before he began moving his hips.

“Oh my god,” Y/n said low as tears rolled down her cheeks. “Too fucking big, Logan- Fuck,” y/n tried moving to make this more comfortable, but the way he dug into her, forced her to understand that her body had minimal time left until she bursts.

“Y/n, stay still, before I get unfriendly,” Logan threatened as he slowly thrusted, trying to enjoy how tight she was gripping him. “L-Lo, give me a second — Please,” y/n asked, he ignored.

Y/n tried again to lean up, which only angered Logan. He tried being nice, but y/n has always been hard-headed.

“Look,” Logan gripped a hand full of the young lady's hair and tugged back. “You’re either gonna take it nice and easy, or I’ll rip that orgasm out of you,” Logan threatened again.

“Maybe if you fucking wait, I could-“ Before she could finish, Logan slapped his hand over her mouth and began pounding into her. Y/n’s muffled cries were all she could do.

“You needa learn some fucking respect when you’re the one horny and vulnerable,” Logan hissed the girl's ear as his hips slapped against her ass harder. The noises filled the dark road, only turning Logan on more.

“Such a good cunt. Heaven sent, and I knew it from the smell of you — I’m just upset you kept it from me for so damn long,”

Logan pushed Y/n’s head into the seat after unlatching his hand from her mouth. “Logan!” Y/n basically screamed as the knot got harder to hold.

“Funny knowing your pussy isn’t the only one crying. Look at you. So damn wet. I could keep you in my room and feed off of you for weeks,”

Y/n’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as her body went stiff. “Oh, yeah — There she is,” Logan groaned as he picked up his pace. “Ah huh, ah huh,” Logan kept on as y/n gushed around the man with a loud cry.

“That’s what you’ve been holdin? C’mon, baby. I know you’ve got more in you,” y/n shook her head, hoping Logan would give her a small break before she fully passed out. “Too much,”

“Too much? Oh, please. You think ima stop because you’re about to cum again?” Logan quickly pulled out and turned y/n around. “C’mon, baby, you should’ve known,”

Logan laid y/n down on her back before pushing right back into her. “Oh my god,” y/n whined as she threw her head back, loving the feeling of Logan taking her over. She never knew he’d be this good.

“Don’t worry, baby. After I’m done, we’ll head home — Maybe I should slip a pill down your pretty mouth more often,”

Y/n tried looking up at Logan to see if she heard right, but another orgasm was near. “Yeah, I did that, baby, but you ain’t complaining, right? You fucking love this,”

[fatipatty]

summer popsicles

warnings: reader 18+, smut, f.reader x ur bf (smirk smirk), mention of pet names, swearing

In which, you and him got into an argument. You swore not to talk to him at all, not one bit. He’s such a meanie, completely ignoring you, and invested in his stupid little game on his pc. “Oh fuuckk!” He yelled, at the screen, haha such a loser, died already, you thought to yourself.

You sat behind him, on the couch in that room, ignoring him as well, while eating a popsicle. The summer heat was hitting you real good, no wonder why you got into a heated argument with him.

“Oh shoot!” You cursed under your breath, as the cold popsicle started melting onto you. You scanned the room, in search for a tissue to wipe the sticky mess off, but unfortunately the tissue box was above his desk, on a floating shelf. Debating whether to go near him and get that tissue, you decided it was much needed to hurry and clean the melted popsicle up, so you made your way over to him, I mean his desk (totally).

He couldn’t hear you because he had his headphones on, lost in the game. You quitely reached for the box above, tip toeing a little, until he randomly turned around, his face now directly facing you. He was caught in surprise, and you were also, from the sudden turn of his body.

You were now hovering right above him, his gaze going to meet your pretty eyes. His lips parted, as though if he were saying “woah”. You suddenly snap out of his gaze and realize the awkward position you were in.

“What?” You say, showing him you were still mad at him.

He chuckles lightly at your attitude. He replies to you by: rapidly grabs you by your waist, and suddenly pushes you into his lap, with a smirk.

You gasp in the sudden movement, as your popsicle drops onto your chest, and down your tank top, where his gaze and eyes open wider. “Oh no! My popsicle!” You pout at him. “Your such a big fat mean-“ he cuts you off in shock as he leans in closer and starts lapping up the melted popsicle dripping down your chest.

You hiss at his contact with your skin, and he makes his way down, going deeper in your chest.

He looks up at you, sparkle and pure adoration in his eyes. “Fuck-, pretty girl, you still mad at me?” He asks, innocently.

“Y-yeah, ‘course I am!” You roll your eyes, there’s no way you can forgive this idot.

“Awh, man. Then tell me, tell me what will make you forgive me?” His voice getting huskier as he nibs on the edge of your ear.

“Y-you-“ You moan, from his touch.

“What’s that baby, I can’t quite hear you?” He says, huge smirk displayed for you on his fucking handsome face.

“Y-you gotta c-clean this mess u-up you made.” The words barely leaving you mouth.

He throws his head back, laughing historically. “Okay, no problem ma’am!” A hint of blush scattered across his cheeks and ear tips and across yours.

He works again at the popsicle, groaning softly against you. He makes his way down, separating the flesh of your tits, and then squishing them back together, which makes the juicy drops splash a bit. “F-fuck baby, you’re so fucking beautiful, beautiful and all mine.”You moan his name, mind going hazy.

“There you go, still mad at me princess?” He asks, once again in that seducing, yet innocent voice.

“N-no, not anymore-“ he cuts you off as he kisses your cold popsicle lips.

“Awh, well too bad, cuz I’m not done yet” he says in an whisper, breaking from the kiss, while a string of saliva connects your mouths.

He stares at you for a while, admiring your beautiful features, and then down your body, and then his eyes meet your eyes, and then back to your swollen lips, he leans in, kissing you again.

“Now let’s see what you taste like.” He says, pure, childish excitement in every word.

a/n: hey guys! lmfao, idk what to say, this is my very first writing made at 4:34 am, gosh I really need to sleep! tell me what you thought and any feedback! I hope u enjoyed it, and enjoy them popsicles 😉😏

[ayeyolooo]

let me help you

please excuse me for my grammatical errors🫶🏾

You were currently at your desk tears falling on the paper with a little plop. You had a ten page essay due @ 11:59 and it was currently 8. You knew that it was more than enough time, but you just couldn’t get a thought out of your head for nothing, you struggled writing essays period, they’ve always been your weak spot.

your phone started ringing so you pushed your black framed glasses up and looked into the camera seeing that it was armin calling you. you glanced at your red puffy eyes and pouty lips as you answered the phone and placed it up so that it’ll be facing the ceiling.

“hi my pretty girl, what are you doing.” just hearing his voice alone made you want to cry and just run to him while he comforts you. “Nothing.” you croaked out. “mama why can’t i see your face? what’s wrong?” he spoke softly. you just sniffed and he automatically knew. “why are you crying baby?” you picked the phone up and pouted.

“ihavethisessaydueandidunnohowimgoingtofinishitallbeforethedeadline.” you jumbled out trying to get all of your words out before your throat closed, from crying. “mama slow down and talk to me, now what’s got you so upset? whats wrong?” he tilted his head. he was laying on his stomach with his phone propped up on his bicep meaning he was comfortable in bed with his sweats on and his glasses. “i’m trying to finish this essay and i don’t know where you start..” you sniffed again. “okay, is mrs. l/n home?” you nodded.

“okay, i’m on the way right now princess.” he hung up the phone. 15 minutes later and you heard the door downstairs open. “hey baby, whatcha doin here?” you heard your mom downstairs. “y/n’s upset about something so i just want to cheer her up.” armin responded as your mom placed her hand on her heart. “see young love, this is so sweet. gone ahead baby, she’s in her room.” armin walked up the stairs and into your room.

you looked at the door and seen armin standing there with some yellow roses and a bag of hot puffs. you just pouted and walked up to him. He picked you up by your thighs—koala style as you just sobbed in his shoulder. ( so she’s being a baby rn! i don’t blame her id act the same way if my person was babying me😭.) “awww don’t cry it’s okayy.” he sat on the edge of your bed and rubbed your back. you felt his cold metal rings graze your back as your body reacted from it—receiving chills.

he tucked his head into your neck and just held you, his glasses were pushed up a bit but he didn’t mind. he was comforting you, which was all that mattered to him. “here come and let’s lay down, because i can see that you’re exhausted pretty girl.” you shook your head no. “i can’t , my work has to be finished before 11:59.” armin just nodded. “yeah i know, it’ll be okay.” you just nodded and laid on his chest as the theme to naruto played in the background. he just rubbed your back and played with your hair that poked from up under the bonnet.

he then heard your light snores. he gently moved you over and walked over to your desk. he sat down and looked at your notes feeling bad that you had so much to do. You were a busy person, you were trying to balance your business and school work and both of them couldn’t be done in one day so you eventually became stagnant in your work, only doing it the day before the deadline. armin understood what you were dealing with, so him being the amazing boyfriend he is, he made sure to help you every chance he gets.

for 3 hours armin was circling, highlighting typing and rewriting your notes that seemed to be decorated with your tear drops. “ the meaning behind this book is to only confuse the reader, no one was actually in love with eachother, it was only an illusion.” armin wrote and clicked enter. armin stuck his tongue out just a little bit proof reading what he just wrote. Proud of what he wrote he submitted it in at 11:58 pm. armin then pecked your forehead “i love you so much my love.” that was the last thing armin ever said to you being that he died from a car accident while he was on the way home.

nahhh just kidding lol!

armin headed home safely after praying over his journey! Armin made sure that the both of you had God in the center of your relationship! he loved you dearly and he thanked God everyday for allowing you to be in his life!

AN

i’m sorry i probably gave you an heart attack im so sorry baby💔. i thought yall would’ve liked the jokey joke😓! na just kidding tho im slowly making my way backkkkk yayyy :)

BVOTD!

GALATIANS 1:10

[elryuse]

Pt. 1 Beginning

Y/n's POV

The sharp buzz of my alarm clock shattered the fragile silence of my room. I groaned, fumbling to turn it off. My hand slammed against the cold, unforgiving metal of the clock, and the sound finally ceased.

For a moment, I lay there staring at the ceiling, letting my mind wander. A part of me wanted to pull the covers back over my head and pretend the day wasn’t starting. But I couldn’t afford to do that. Not now. Not here.

I dragged myself out of bed and sat on the edge, running a hand through my messy hair. The familiar sights of my small room greeted me—the creaky desk piled with books and papers, the faded posters on the walls, the clothes scattered haphazardly over the back of my chair.

This was home, simple and unchanging. But the moment I stepped out the door, I’d be in an entirely different world.

Babel University. A place where the wealthy and powerful gathered, a sanctuary for Korea’s elite. And somehow, I had slipped through the cracks, a complete outsider in a kingdom of privilege.

I sighed and pushed myself to my feet, beginning my morning routine.

The Morning Routine

The first step was making my bed, tugging the worn sheets into place and fluffing the pillow. My mom always said a clean bed meant a clean start to the day. I wasn’t sure if it worked, but it was a habit now, ingrained into me since I was a kid.

The bathroom was next. I splashed cold water on my face, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. The mirror reflected a tired face with dark circles under the eyes. I frowned.

“Come on, Y/n,” I muttered to myself. “You’ve got this.”

The shower that followed was scalding, just the way I liked it. By the time I stepped out and slipped into my neatly ironed uniform, I almost felt human again.

When I walked into the kitchen, the smell of breakfast greeted me—eggs sizzling in the pan, toast popping out of the toaster. My mom was humming softly, her movements quick and practiced.

“Morning,” I mumbled, sliding into my usual seat at the small dining table.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she replied without turning around. “How’d you sleep?”

I shrugged, picking up a fork. “Okay, I guess.”

She set a plate of eggs and toast in front of me and finally looked at me, her eyes scanning my face. “You look tired. Is everything okay at school?”

I hesitated, my fork hovering over the plate. “Yeah, it’s just… a lot to get used to. Babel’s… different.”

She gave me a knowing smile and sat across from me. “I know it’s intimidating, but you’re smart and kind. You’ll find your place there.”

“Maybe,” I muttered, not entirely convinced.

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. “Give it time. And remember, you belong there just as much as anyone else.”

I nodded, grateful for her reassurance.

The Send-Off

As I finished my breakfast and stood to leave, she followed me to the door.

“Your tie’s crooked,” she said, frowning.

“It’s fine,” I protested weakly, but she was already adjusting it, her fingers deft and practiced.

“There,” she said, stepping back to admire her work. “You look handsome.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at my lips. “Thanks, Mom.”

She reached up to smooth my hair, her touch gentle. “Don’t be late, okay? And don’t let anyone push you around.”

“I won’t,” I promised, grabbing my bag.

As I stepped outside, the cool morning air greeted me. I wheeled my bike onto the street, taking a deep breath to steady myself.

The Ride to Babel

The streets were alive with the usual morning rush—cars honking, people hurrying to work, the occasional jogger pounding the pavement.

My bike creaked slightly as I pedaled, the familiar rhythm calming my nerves. It wasn’t flashy, but it got the job done.

As I approached Babel University, the atmosphere shifted. The streets became cleaner, the buildings grander. The gates of the campus loomed ahead, a testament to wealth and power.

The stares started before I even reached the entrance.

“Is that… a bike?”

“Must be a scholarship student.”

“Doesn’t even care, huh?”

I kept my eyes forward, my grip tightening on the handlebars. Let them stare. Let them whisper. It didn’t matter.

Inside the campus, the disparity was even starker. Students lounged in groups, their laughter and conversation filling the air. Their uniforms were tailored to perfection, their accessories gleaming with quiet luxury.

I parked my bike in the far corner of the lot, hoping it would go unnoticed. No such luck.

The Classroom

The classroom was already buzzing with energy when I arrived. I slipped inside quietly, hoping to blend into the background.

Most of the seats were taken, but I spotted an empty one near the middle. My heart sank when I saw who it was next to.

Karina Yu.

She was sitting with one arm resting lazily on her desk, her phone in her other hand. Even in this casual pose, she exuded an aura of authority. Her long black hair framed her sharp features perfectly, and her cold gaze flicked up briefly as I approached.

“Excuse me,” I said softly.

Karina’s eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, I felt like I was being judged. Then, without a word, she moved her bag off the chair, making just enough room for me to sit.

“Thanks,” I murmured, sliding into the seat.

She didn’t reply, already back to scrolling through her phone.

The Lecture Begins

The professor entered a few minutes later, his booming voice cutting through the noise.

“Good morning, everyone. Let’s get started.”

The lecture was on advanced economics—dense, complicated, and frankly a little dull. I tried to focus, jotting down notes as quickly as I could.

Karina, however, didn’t even pretend to pay attention. She casually plugged in her AirPods and started watching a video on her phone, completely ignoring the professor.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye, baffled. Wasn’t she worried about getting caught?

Apparently not.

“Miss Yu,” the professor said sharply, his voice cutting through the room.

Karina didn’t react at first, her attention still on her phone. It wasn’t until the professor cleared his throat loudly that she finally looked up, pulling out one AirPod.

“Yes?” she said, her tone calm and disinterested.

“If you’re so disinterested in my lecture, perhaps you’d like to answer this question,” the professor said, pointing to a complex equation on the board. His smirk suggested he thought he had her cornered.

Karina blinked, her usual composure faltering for just a second.

Without thinking, I scribbled the answer on a scrap of paper and nudged it toward her under the desk.

Her eyes flicked to mine, and for a moment, I thought she might ignore it. But then she smirked, the corners of her lips curling up ever so slightly.

She glanced at the paper, then back at the professor. “The answer is 1.45 percent,” she said smoothly.

The professor’s smirk vanished. “That’s… correct. Very well, Miss Yu. Do try to pay attention.”

“Of course,” she replied, her tone laced with sarcasm.

A Quiet Thanks

As the professor turned back to the board, Karina leaned toward me slightly.

“Thanks,” she said softly, her voice low enough that only I could hear.

I turned to her, startled. “Uh… no problem.”

Before I could say anything else, she reached out and ruffled my hair. “You’re an interesting one,” she murmured, a teasing smirk playing on her lips.

I froze, my face heating up. “I—I don’t—”

She leaned back in her chair, already plugging her AirPods back in and returning to her video.

Meanwhile, I sat there in stunned silence, my heart pounding.

The cafeteria of Babel University was as extravagant as everything else on campus. Chandeliers hung from the high ceilings, casting warm golden light over the rows of sleek, polished tables. The aroma of freshly cooked meals filled the air, a tantalizing mix of spices and delicacies far beyond anything I’d ever had at home.

I walked in, clutching my tray tightly, and scanned the room. Most of the tables were already occupied by groups of students, their laughter and conversation blending into a steady hum. The cafeteria wasn’t just a place to eat; it was a battlefield of social hierarchy.

“Okay, just find a quiet spot,” I muttered under my breath.

I made my way to the food counters. The options were overwhelming—grilled steaks, fresh sushi, steaming bowls of ramen. I settled for a simple plate of rice and chicken, not wanting to draw attention to myself by lingering too long.

With my tray in hand, I turned back toward the seating area, my gaze sweeping over the room once more. That’s when I saw her.

Karina Yu.

She was sitting with a group of equally stunning girls, each of them radiating the kind of confidence and poise that only came from a lifetime of privilege. Karina was at the center, leaning back in her chair like she owned the place.

Her eyes met mine across the room, and for a moment, I froze. Then, to my utter disbelief, she waved.

Not just a casual wave, either. She raised her arm high, a bright smile spreading across her face as if we were old friends.

I blinked, glancing over my shoulder to see if someone else was behind me. But no, the only thing behind me was a wall.

“She can’t be waving at me,” I muttered, shaking my head.

To avoid the awkwardness of assuming wrongly, I quickly made my way to one of the empty tables near the back of the cafeteria. It was tucked away in a quiet corner, far from the prying eyes of Babel’s elite.

I set my tray down and took a seat, grateful for the relative peace. As I began eating, I couldn’t help but replay the moment in my head. Why would Karina wave at me? Was she just messing with me?

Unexpected Company

The sound of approaching footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. They were steady and deliberate, growing louder with each passing second.

I didn’t look up at first, too focused on scooping a spoonful of rice. But then, I heard a soft chuckle—a familiar one.

“Mind if we join you?”

I froze mid-bite, my spoon hovering inches from my mouth. Slowly, I raised my head.

Karina was standing there, her signature smirk firmly in place. Behind her were three other girls—Winter, Giselle, and Ningning, the rest of her group. Each of them carried a tray of food, their expressions ranging from curious to amused.

“I… uh…” I stammered, struggling to find my voice.

Karina didn’t wait for an answer. She set her tray down across from me and slid into the seat. The others followed suit, filling the remaining chairs at the table.

“Guess that’s a yes,” Winter said, smirking as she sat beside Karina.

Ningning plopped down next to me, her tray clattering against the table. “This is going to be fun,” she said cheerfully, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Giselle took the last seat, leaning back casually as she surveyed me. “So, you’re the guy who helped Karina in class earlier?”

I felt my face heat up. “It was nothing. Really.”

Karina raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Nothing? You saved me from looking like an idiot in front of everyone. That’s not ‘nothing.’”

“I just… I didn’t want you to get in trouble,” I said, scratching the back of my neck awkwardly.

“See? He’s sweet,” Ningning chimed in, nudging my arm playfully. “I like him.”

“Careful, Ningning,” Winter said dryly. “You’re going to scare him off.”

Under the Spotlight

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, suddenly hyper-aware of how out of place I felt. The four of them were dressed impeccably, their uniforms tailored to perfection. Their trays were piled with gourmet dishes that probably cost more than my entire week’s allowance.

And then there was me—just an ordinary guy with a plate of rice and chicken.

“So,” Karina said, leaning forward slightly, “what’s your deal?”

“My… deal?” I repeated, confused.

“You’re not like everyone else here,” she said, gesturing vaguely to the room. “You don’t have the whole chaebol vibe. So how’d you end up at Babel?”

I hesitated, unsure how much to share. “Scholarship,” I said finally. “I guess I got lucky.”

“Lucky, huh?” Winter said, her tone skeptical.

Karina tilted her head, studying me with an intensity that made me squirm. “You don’t look like someone who just got ‘lucky.’ There’s more to you, isn’t there?”

“I… I don’t know what you mean,” I said, avoiding her gaze.

For a moment, there was silence. Then, to my surprise, Karina laughed—a soft, melodic sound that caught me off guard.

“You’re interesting,” she said, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“Interesting?” I echoed, baffled.

She nodded, her smirk returning. “Most people here would do anything to get on my good side. But you… you’re different.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I stayed silent, focusing on my food.

Breaking the Ice

The conversation shifted after that, with the girls chatting among themselves. Ningning told a funny story about one of their professors, and even Winter cracked a rare smile.

I mostly stayed quiet, content to listen. But every now and then, one of them would direct a question or comment my way, pulling me into the conversation.

To my surprise, it wasn’t as intimidating as I’d expected. They were sharp and confident, yes, but they weren’t cruel.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. Karina’s eyes lingered on me more than once, a thoughtful expression flickering across her face.

When lunch ended, they all stood to leave, Karina leading the way.

“See you around, Y/n,” she said over her shoulder, her smirk firmly in place.

And just like that, they were gone, leaving me to wonder what I’d just gotten myself into.

To Be Continued

[lacydollette]

I’m on my period and I’m really not feeling well and like I just wanna hug and a forehead kiss and I don’t know I’m thinking about like rafe x reader and he’s comforting her and being all soft and sweet with her and maybe it’s like somewhere with friends or something and all of a sudden she gets really bad cramps and he’s like super soft and super sweet and it’s all cute 

a/n period cramps are the worst 💔 hope this helps a little !!

warnings rafe x fem!reader, period cramps, rafe taking care of you, comfort, fluffy as hell

You and Rafe were enjoying a chill evening at Toppers house, drinking, laughing and just having fun but about an hour in, a sharp, twisting pain in your lower stomach threw you back. You immediately recognized the familiar pain—it was the kind of period cramps that made you want to curl into a ball and cry. But you pushed the thought aside. You knew how much Rafe valued these moments, especially after the hectic week he’d had, and you weren’t about to ruin it.

You shifted on the couch, trying to find a comfortable position, but the pain only grew worse. It was relentless, waves of pain rushing over you. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to keep it together.

Rafe noticed the change in you almost immediately. He was standing across the room with Kelce, laughing about something stupid, when his eyes landed on you. The way you squirmed and pressed your hand to your stomach made his chest tighten.

“Hey, hold on a sec,” he muttered to Kelce, already walking toward you. “Baby?” he said softly, kneeling in front of you. His hands brushing over your thighs softly, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

You quickly sat up straighter, plastering on a smile, “I’m fine, Rafe. Don’t worry.” His eyes narrowed, scanning your face. “Liar. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, really.” But then the pain surged again, and you couldn’t stop the small wince that crossed your face. You tried to laugh it off though, not wanting to worry him even more. “It’s just cramps. I’ll be fine.”

Rafe frowned, your pain making his heart ache, “Cramps? Like… bad ones?” You hesitated, feeling embarrassed. “Yeah, but it’s no big deal. You should stay and hang out with your friends. I’ll be okay.”

That response hit him harder than expected. His brow furrowed, and his voice was firm but gentle. “y/n, you’re sitting here in pain, and you think I care about hanging out with Top and Kelce more than you?”

“Rafe, it’s your night. You deserve to relax—” He cut you off, “Not if you’re hurting,” shaking his head. “Come on, we’re going home.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the serious look in his eyes made you stop. He wasn’t going to budge, and honestly, you weren’t sure you even wanted him to.

When you two got home, Rafe wasted no time. He helped you out of your shoes, guiding you to the bed with a care that made your heart feel full. “Sit tight,” he murmured, brushing a kiss against your temple. Rafe always went all out when it came to you, not caring about anything else but to make you feel better.

He disappeared into the kitchen, and you could hear him rummaging through cabinets. The sound of running water followed, and then he was back with a steaming hot water bottle and a handful of your favorite snacks. He sat on the edge of the bed, gently placing the bottle against your stomach.

The heat was soothing, and you sighed in relief. “Better?” he asked, pulling you into his arms. “Much better,” you admitted, leaning into him. But Rafe wasn’t done. He wrapped you up in his embrace, his lips pressing soft kisses to your forehead and cheeks. “You should’ve told me sooner,” he murmured.

Your chest swelled with emotion as you nodded, feeling his love in every gentle touch. “Thank you, ray.”

He smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You scared me a little, you know. You looked like you were really hurting.” Your chest tightened. “I didn’t want to bother you. You were having such a good time…”

“y/n,” he said, sitting beside you and tugging a strand of hair behind your ear, “I don’t care about anything else when you’re not okay. Got it?” You nodded, tears pricking your eyes at the sincerity in his voice, your hormones were through the roof at this point. “I got it.” He wrapped his arms around you tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. “Good. Now let me take care of you.”

And he stayed true to his words. You spent the rest of the night cuddled together in the bed, Rafe’s warmth and care easing your pain, there was no better remedy than being wrapped up in his arms. He held you close, occasionally pressing soft kisses to your rosy cheeks, as he whispered little reassurances.

[knnichs]

TO MY DEAREST.

A feeling lingered in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to gaze up in the sky with you–even if he knew that its beauty was fabricated. A well-done lie, weaved together with details convincing enough to fool anyone who only glanced at it from afar.

c. harbinger scaramouche x gn! reader

t. character(s) are friends with reader but have romantic feelings, mentions of stalker, brief thought of violence (not acted on,) fluff. wc: 1.5k

taglist. @thestarswhisper @pneumosia @tragedy-of-commons @gl4di0lus @azuresaqua @mikashisus -> join the taglist here!

heads up! this is a sequel to “to and fro - back and forth” but can be read as a standalone. i still heavily recommend for you to read it before this!

Recently, you have been receiving unsigned letters laying flat on your doorstep. 

Out in the bright of day–there would always be an… incomplete letter accompanied with some sort of flower. There’s no theme whatsoever–the flowers come in random colors, and the letters all have the same seal, S, it would read.

There are a lot of people you know that have their names starting in the same letter: Sethos, Siegwienne, a few more that you couldn’t be bothered to name. The thought did occur to you at some point–could it be…

No, that’s impossible.

Scaramouche is a friend (you wouldn’t say friend, exactly. He would probably think you were an acquaintance at most.) you made when you had a reunion with Childe. Apparently, Scaramouche was his co-worker, and the two of them don’t exactly get along. You, ever the peacemaker, got fed up with their constant bantering. You internally made it your mission to have the two get along, no matter how impossible it may seem.

Then began the friendship. You got his contact information, completely unaware that he had only given it to you simply because he found your personality quite interesting. He wouldn’t admit that outright–he wouldn’t say ‘Childe’s friends are my friends’ either, since Childe and him aren’t even that close. 

Scaramouche convinced himself that it was simply a way of getting information for when he decides to overthrow the Fatui.

Sometimes he’d join you when he sees you around the area he was in. A harbinger who did nothing but stay on standby–how stupid is that? With nothing better to do, he’d rather escape the toxic lifestyle of the Fatui and join you on peaceful walks instead. Sometimes he’d start conversations, sometimes he’d just stay quiet. If he gets your mouth to run for hours on end–maybe you’ll slip up and say something he can use against Childe the next time he says they had some sort of “agreement.”

That moment never came. He never found anything that could help his plan in your words. Instead, the things you talked about were all about how horrible your day has been and how terrible your colleague was. 

How laughable. Here you were–completely oblivious to the dangers of the world. He bet that you didn’t even know the sky in Teyvat was fake. You complain when the server gets your ice cream order wrong and somehow your entire day gets turned upside down–but you didn’t even dare confront them. 

You were foolish and simple-minded. He just felt generous enough to run back to that shop–repeat your order the same way you said it and go back to you. No, he didn’t pay for it. They gave it to him for free since they felt bad about messing up your order.

You didn’t fail to see him pocket the change, though. But you stay quiet, choosing to say nothing and simply smile. At least now you had two things to be happy about for the day.

Your house was near the coast line of Snezhnaya. There wasn’t much to do or to see–save for the breathtaking views of the ocean and the night sky. It was more of a provincial area, nothing too extraordinary for it to be a tourist spot or whatnot.

On restless nights, Scaramouche finds himself unconsciously walking to the direction of where your home was. He doesn’t really knock on your door expecting you to magically come out. But how close he was on actually doing it–his hand curling into a fist when he hesitates. He would sigh–not knowing what you did exactly that has him acting like a lovesick idiot.

Sometimes, you would be on your porch–or laying on the snow-covered grass. Admiring the green light stretching into the horizons. You’d spot the boy in the corner of your eye, shocked he even bothered to come all the way here for you. 

No, it wasn’t for you. He was on a mission and happened to pass by, and he was just looking at the sky–not you. That’s what he would always claim.

You would scoff, laying back down on the grass–a silent invitation for him to join you. 

The first few times this happened, a feeling lingered in his chest. He wanted nothing more than to gaze up in the sky with you–even if he knew that its beauty was fabricated. A well-done lie, weaved together with details convincing enough to fool anyone who only glanced at it from afar.

That night, he noticed you lazing around the patch of grass like some kind of weirdo–he found it quite entertaining, even if he had just insulted you in the back of his mind. 

Scaramouche would turn to look to his underlings, commanding them to set up camp somewhere a little farther away and rest. This has never happened before–I mean, the Sixth Harbinger, The Balladeer, telling them to rest? Unheard of! 

Once they had all entered their tents–he made it clear that not one of them should get out or even keep watch incase of some sort of ambush. This sparked some anxiety within the group, but if it was the harbinger’s orders, they would simply follow it.

“It’s late. What are you doing at this hour?” A voice from behind says–eventually coming close enough for you to see clearly even in the dead of night. Has Scaramouche come to visit you?

“I couldn’t sleep,” You claim. “What are you doing here?”

He pauses, standing beside you. “It’s dangerous to be out and about, especially since it’s this late.”

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

You look at him–with those damned eyes he could easily fall for. So he turns away, a hand on his hat, hoping it was enough to cover the vulnerability in his face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” He huffed.

He doesn’t dare to even glance at you for another minute or so. You sit up–propping a hand behind you for support, facing the ocean. Only then does Scaramouche look at you, when you’re distracted and all the attention isn’t on him. He would study your face for a moment, the way the hues of the aurora reflect back on you.

He cleared his throat, “Go back to your home.”

To that–you shake your head, still focused on the waves as they crash to the shore. 

“It’s beautiful out here, I’ve gotten sick of my room.”

“And you will get sick if you don’t warm yourself up. It’s cold.”

“Your face is cold.” 

“How creative. Your comeback is easily one of the worst ones I’ve ever heard.” His tone was quite sarcastic, but the slightest chuckle can be heard from him.

A comfortable silence fills the air. He sits on the grass beside you, resting his chin on his hand. You were quite stubborn, you were shivering–your lips turning pale, and eyebags have already begun to form. But you chose to stay and look at the sky.

Why?

None of you choose to speak during the moment. You were too focused on the scene in front of you to even think about how easy it is for the Balladeer to hurt you in this moment. You put too much trust in him–too much hope that he wouldn’t do anything. You forget that he’s cold, his soul filled with anger and a desire for revenge. 

It’s either the aurora that night was imbued with some sort of magic that put him under a spell to be more forgiving, or simply because your personality had rubbed off on him with the amount of times he “coincidentally” found you idling around in the city.

He hasn’t felt this way not once in his life, but the thought had already crossed his mind–

Was he in love?

Because if this was love felt like–he wanted nothing to do with it. 

You’ve gotten another letter again today.

You talked to Childe about it–he was quite worried it would be some sort of stalker and that you could possibly be in danger, but you quickly brushed it off and shut down that train of thought saying that you never did anything to really make anyone fall for you. He promised that he would send a small team of Fatui to guard your house at night though, and so it happened.

A rustling can be heard, and some talking within the troops until one of them had shouted. 

It was a stalker after all, you thought to yourself. You went downstairs and eavesdropped on the conversation–curious about the person's identity. Their voices were muffled–but you did hear a few things for certain.

“Lord Scaramouche? What are you doing here?” One of them stuttered.

“Shut up–and be quiet!” He yelled. His voice different from the one he uses with you–it was always soft, some sarcasm here and there–but he would never use a harsh tone.

“I heard Childe was putting some sort of team together to guard here,” You hear footsteps towards the porch, and a shadow would crouch down, a familiar white envelope slipping through the creaks of your door. “You can leave now. I’ll take over.”

“Don’t you need a team, my lord?” 

“I said leave, so get out!”

You smiled as you opened it, the same starting line as every other letter—To my dearest. The contents would go on and on about how frustrating it was being inlove.

Now, you know who your mystery admirer is.

@ knnichs 2023 ﹑ do not repost, republish, translate, feed to ai or modify any of my works. doing so can and will result into me blocking you.

WHAS GOOD CHAT happy birthday to this FREAKAZOID i love him so much🤞🤞😜 anyway that aside this was so rushed (im sorry) (im not) i needed to get this out by the time it was his birthday so i wrote this all in like 2 hours and then procrastinated posting it NOW IM LATE … it is. one am january FOUR im so sorry im a fake scaramouche fan 😵

[slut4hee]

5 Star Service

{Paring: Uber Driver Yeonjun x Fem! Reader

{Genre: smut, car sex, yeonjun drives a Tesla, 18+ so mdni).

{Synopsis: Tonight’s date was supposed to hit the spot. He was supposed to take you back to his place, pour you a glass of wine, and show you a good time. But unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, he turned out to be straight up asshole. But luckily your hot uber driver made up for it.

{Warnings: explicit themes, rough sex, unprotected sex (but they do attempt to use a condom), creampie fingering, oral (m receiving), squirting (they fuck up his seats), ass smacking, riding, public sex, panty sniffing, switch jun (he’s very whiny), switch reader, they’re both pervy asf, dirty talk, pet names, Yeonjun’s a college student, reader is well off (gives Yeonjun a 100 tip at the end of the ride), reader is slightly older than Yeonjun (Yeonjun 21, reader 24), lmk if I missed anything.

You rolled your eyes, as you traced the rim of the wine glass, listening to your date, boast about himself for the past 20 minutes. Honestly as soon as he opened his mouth to talk about his yearly earnings, you were already ready to make your exit out the door, but maybe his mouth worked good for other things so you gave him a chance.

You pretended to listen, nodding to everything he said, you were just hoping you would get a good fuck out of this, since you’re wasting so much time on this loser.

“Oh and my father, he graduated with two phds, and he’s one of the best plastic surgeons out there. I could give you his card if you ever, you know wanna get work done” He said sarcastically, you looked at him like he had two heads, did he just basically say you should consider getting plastic surgery?!

“I’m sorry but, why would I need any work done, isn’t it obvious that this body is perfect just the way it is” You said confidently, you were not going to let this bastard, disrespect you by any means.

“No that’s not what I meant, I’m just saying like, isn’t that something you women love doing nowadays. I mean you probably do have something you would want to change about yourself wouldn’t you” He said smugly, taking a sip out of his wine glass.

You were in rage, you stood up from your chair, pulling out a hundred dollar bill and slammed it onto the table. You didn’t even spare him another glance, as you stormed out of the restaurant.

“What a sexist prick” you said to yourself pulling out your phone, to dial your personal driver. You cursed under your breath, as you remembered you agreed to letting your personal chauffeur take this week for vacation.

“Well looks I gotta settle for an uber” You sighed, opening the app and requesting for a ride. The app connected you with a driver, by the name of Yeonjun, on the picture he looked kind of cute, his bright smile shining in the photo.

You were so annoyed, sex deprived, and stressed out from work. All you wanted was to have a good time, get dicked down, and have a nice meal, was that too much to ask for? Just as you were about to smoke a cigarette, your phone dinged with a p in notification, that Yeonjun was near by.

You quickly put the cigarette back into box, throwing it inside your purse, as you waved your hand to signal where you were. Finally a black Tesla pulled up in front of you, and Yeonjun hopped out the car, to open the door for you. You thanked him, and took a seat in the back.

You were right, he was handsome, and he was also very clean, car smelling of fresh linen but also a faint scent of his cologne could be smelled.

“Hello my name is Yeonjun, I’ll be your driver tonight, if you need me to adjust the ac, just let me know” His voice was soft and pillowy, making your stomach feel all funny. You hummed, staring at him through the rear view mirror.

He looked a little younger than you, he was dressed in a gray hoodie, his bangs peaking out slightly. You couldn’t help but stare at his fuller lips, pink and plump, and you bet they’re very kissable. Yeonjun must have sensed you staring at him, his eyes caught yours, and you quickly looked away clearing your throat.

“So, how’s your night going miss?” He inquired, adjusting the rear view mirror to get a better look at you. You smiled, and bit your lip slightly, before answering his question.

“Actually not so great, my date was an asshole” You replied, stretching out your arms, causing your too little of a skirt to ride up, you didn’t miss the way Yeonjun’s eyes trailed down your figure in the mirror, swallowing hard. You smirked to yourself, that’s right baby, look at my thighs.

“May I asked, what said asshole did, to be called an asshole” He asked, shifting a little bit in his seat, as he kept stealing glances at you in the mirror. You smirked, you were loving that just from a little skin showing, he was already so flustered.

“Well, he didn’t know how to speak to a lady, and insulted my dignity. Plus he seemed very boring, and a waste of my precious time” You said, taking off your black fur jacket, exposing your shoulders and chest. Yeonjun’s eyes widened before quickly looking away, gulping.

“Wow, he seemed like a total dick, I can’t stand guys like him, who don’t know how to treat women with respect and dignity” He said softly, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth. You couldn’t help but giggle softly, he was so sweet, cute, and respectful and honestly, you liked where this was going.

“May I ask how old you are, Yeonjun?” You said, flirtatious and seductively”. He cleared his throat, before answering.

“I’m 21, and I’m a sophomore in college”. He said, awkwardly scratching the back of his nape, he could tell you were obviously older than him, and on top of that, you gave off very mature grown woman vibes, that turned him so bad.

“Hmm you’re pretty young, but it seems you know how to treat a lady, Yeonjun”. You said, twirling the ends of your hair. You could tell he was turned on, the constant shifting in his seat, and the tint of red on his ears.

“Uhh, I’m not trying to make any assumptions or toot my horn, but I feel like you’re coming onto me” He said nervously, eyes wide and awkward looking. You giggled softly again, he was just too adorable and gullible for his own good.

“I don’t know darling, am I?” You said teasingly, you wanted to make sure, you both were on the same page, before you went any further.

“Y-yes, he stuttered, opening and closing his legs, like he’s trying to gain some friction. You chuckled, feeling yourself getting wet in your thong, honest truth you loved pathetic man.

You loved when a man wasn’t afraid to show how needy he is for a woman, not some nonchalant wanna be loser, who thinks all women gets off by men being tough.

“I tell you what baby, how about you pull over somewhere private, promise I’ll make it worth your while” you smiled devilish, already starting to rub on your tits, you were so damn horny, so if it meant fucking an uber driver in the backseat of his car to satisfy your needs, then so be it.

Yeonjun damn near lost control of the wheel, he stared at you bewildered, he’s never had something happen to him like this since he started driving for Uber, shit, not ever in general.

“A-Are you l-like serious right now, you want to have sex with me in my car?” He stumbled over his words, he needed to make sure he wasn’t trapped away, in some erotic wet dream. But no, you were dead serious!

“Smart boy, that is exactly what I’m implying, unless you’re scared little boy, who’s afraid of some pussy” You giggled, reaching under your skirt, to slide your panties off, twirling them around your fingertips.

Yeonjun groaned at the sight, cock now very much hard, throbbing inside his sweats. You threw the panties at him, the red piece of fabric landing his lap. He grabbed the your thong, feeling how soaked the panty is, he brought it to his nose, groaning at the scent of your sweet aroma.

“F-fuck you smell so good, fuck I wanna fuck you so bad right now” he whined, hips unintentionally bucking up, he hasn’t been this hard in a long time, too busy with studying and exams, he forgot how good pussy is.

“Then do it baby, find a place, so you can fuck me as hard as you want darling” You said a little desperately, you honestly needed to jump his bones like right now, your pussy was screaming at you, for neglecting her for so long. Yeonjun quickly found an empty parking lot, of an abandoned building, he pulled into the parking lot, turning off his car.

Yeonjun quickly hopped into the back seat, glancing at you nervously, but his eyes were dark and full of lust. You smirked at him, before climbing onto his lap, he was so hard already, cock straining painfully through his sweats where a wet patch could be seen.

“Fuck I can’t believe this is happening right now, you’re so sexy on top of me like this” He whined, putting his hands on your waist, squeezing the fatty flesh. You moaned softly, starting to grind your bare wet pussy on his clothed hard on.

“Yeah baby? You like what I’m doing to you naughty boy” You cooed, dropping down to your knees, staring into his lustful eyes for permission, he nodded eagerly, before lifting his bottom from the seat, so you can pull his pants down.

His hard cock spring free, long and thick, with the tip red and leaking precum. Your mouth watered at the sight, it’s been so long since you seen a pretty and thick cock, you were definitely going to have some fun with him.

You stared deep into his eyes, as you start to leave little kitten licks on his leaking tip, grabbing the base of his dick, and pumping it up and down. Yeonjun pants heavily, watching intently, as your mouth swallows him whole.

“Ah fuck! O-oh god, that feels incredible, ugh please” He whimpered, when you started to full on suck his cock, bobbing your head and slurping. The sounds you were making were sinful, and if anyone were to walk by the car, they would be in for a surprise.

“Yes baby, suck that dick so good, wow you’re so fucking good at this ngh” Yeonjun was a moaning mess, babbling and slurring his words. You could tell it’s been a while for him as well, desperately holding your head in place, as you take his cock down your throat.

“Oh shit baby, I don’t think I’m going to last any longer, you gonna be a good little whore, and let me cum in your mouth” He whined, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail, and fucking your mouth. You looked up at him with your innocent but not so innocent doe eyes, letting him abuse your throat.

His pants and groans, turned into whiny moans and cries, as he feels his high approaching rapidly. You go to fondle his balls, squeezing them as you sucked him dry. His eyes rolled to back of his head, hips stuttering as he let out a loud cry, shooting thick white ropes of cum down your throat.

You swallowed his semen effortlessly, like you’ve done this plenty of times (which you have.), sticking out your tongue to show how good of a girl you are for him. He already looks so fucked out, eyes half lidded and hazy, and his chest heaves up and down as he tries to control his breathing.

You give his tip a kiss, before climbing back onto his lap, removing your top and bra. You yelped, when he suddenly started to play with your tits, squeezing and pulling on your nipples.

He slid his hand between your legs, swiping his fingers through your slick folds. Your body shuddered, the feeling of his touch sending shock waves of pleasure through your body.

“Fuck you’re so wet for me baby, you like getting your pretty little pussy played with, by random guys huh?” He teased, as he smirked at you mischievously, sliding one of his digits into your tight weeping hole.

“Oh fuck!, oh yes please more” You moaned, his fingers were so long and hitting places deep inside your mushy walls, that you didn’t know existed. You kinda felt so pathetic with yourself, getting off at his vulgar words, but you were too deep now, and it felt too good to stop.

“That’s right baby, cum on my fingers, and show me how desperate of a whore you are” He cooed, curling his fingers deep inside your pussy, as he slides in another finger. As much as you would have loved to cream on his fingers, you rather cream on his cock instead, so you pushed his fingers away panting in the process.

“I need you now, I need your cock inside me right now or I might die of starvation” You said, rubbing your acrylics down his chest. He shivered at your touch, leaning in to kiss your lips softly.

“So, are you implying that you are a cock hungry whore?” He said, smacking your ass harshly, you yelped at the sting, but you couldn’t lie and say it didn’t make your pussy leak more.

“That’s exactly what I’m implying, so are you going to feed my greedy pussy your cock or not Yeonjunie?” You said seductively, palming his hard leaking cock. He groaned out of desperation, reaching into the glove compartment, to pull out a condom.

He stared into your eyes deeply, panting heavily as he tore open the package of the condom with his teeth. You watched as he grabbed his throbbing cock, giving it a couple of pumps, before rolling on the condom. You giggled softly, as he lifted your body up, and aligned his mushroom tip up with your dripping hole.

“Before I put it in, are you sure about this” He asked, his eyes were sincere, but lust also clouded them. You answered him by grabbing his cock, slowing sinking down on it. The stretch was intense, you felt like you were being split open, as his long dick penetrated your fluttering walls.

“Oh fuckk, shit you’re s’big omg” You whined, legs trembling as you tried to let yourself adjust to his size. Yeonjun couldn’t wait though, you felt too good, too fucking tight for him to not fuck up into your heavenly hole.

“Ahh shit, your pussy is so tight fuck” He gripped your waist tightly, starting to rock your hips back and forth. You moaned out loud at the feeling, his cock was truly delightful, the snug fit and the drag of it was like no other.

“Goddam baby, so glad to have been your passenger tonigh- UGH FUCK!! Right there please don’t stop” Your words were interrupted, by Yeonjun suddenly slamming himself inside you, stroking deep inside your wet cunt.

“Look at you, such a desperate little slut, so fucking cock starved, you gotta seduce your uber driver” He spat, full on pounding into your pussy, as he watched your juicy tits bounce up and down in his face.

Your pussy clenched tighter around him, his degrading words turning you on, and making you leak like a faucet. It feel so good to be getting fucked deep and hard by a big cock, and that’s the thing, this cock is too fucking good to have any restrictions.

“Take the condom off” You suddenly said, making Yeonjun halt his movements. He stared at you wide eyed, but you could see the dark desire, behind his pupils.

“W-wait, you want me to fuck you raw?” He asked, shock written all over his face. You nodded your head yes, biting down on your lip as you lifted your body from his lap and pulled the condom off in one pull. Yeonjun watched as you aligned his tip back up with your pussy, before sinking back down.

“Holyy- oh my god that feels so much goddamn better, fuck this is the best cock I ever had junie” You blabbered desperately, starting to bounce on his cock. Yeonjun lets out a pathetic whimper, the feeling of your tight cock, squeezing his throbbing dick with no restrictions, was far too overwhelming.

“Hell yeah, that’s it darling, fuck that cock like it’s yours, you deserve it baby” Yeonjun was also blabbering, eyes rolling to the back of his head, as he feels his stomach tightening, he felt pathetic for how close he already was to cumming.

The windows of the car were foggy, and if anyone were to walk uo to the door, they will definitely hear the sounds of your skin meeting his. Your legs were starting to sting and feel numb, and Yeonjun caught that right away. He took over, fucking into you like it’s no tomorrow, and finding your g-spot in the process.

“FUCK YES PLEASE, please please right there, that’s my spot god!! Yes” You slurred your words and pleaded with him, he was so deep inside you, that you could feel the tip of his cock kissing your cervix. You couldn’t believe you were already about to cum, no one has ever made you cum this quick.

“Shit baby, fucking hell your pussy’s gonna make me cum so hard” He whined, reclining his seat back some more, as he fucked into you, like a rag dog. You could feel the knot in your stomach getting ready to unravel, as your legs started to tremble again, and you felt this intense tingling feeling in your stomach.

“Fuck stop squeezing me so tight baby, or I won’t have any other choice but to breed this slutty pussy” He said through gritted teeth, trying his absolute best, to not bust his nut inside you. You being the menace you are, you placed your hands on his shoulders to stabilize yourself, and started to bounce on his dick again.

“Wait, wait oh god I’m- I’m- c-um” He couldn’t even finish his sentence, before his hips stuttered, releasing thick white ropes of cum inside you, completing emptying out his balls. The feeling of his warm cum filling up your insides, triggered your orgasm, as you came and squirted all over him, fucking up his seats as well.

You both panted, chests heaving up and down, as you both came down from the intense highs. Your limp weak body, fell over on him, resting your head on his shoulder as you panted. He also laid his head on your shoulder, drawing little circles on your back.

“Wow did I really just fuck my Uber driver” You suddenly said, breaking the silence. He chuckled before giving your ass a squeeze, and pulling out a cloth from the glove compartment to clean you both up.

“Yup you sure did miss, but if it makes you feel better that was the best fucking pussy I’ve ever had” he smiled weakly at you, caressing your cheeks. You blushed at the romantic gesture, but not once stopping him, it honestly felt kinda nice.

Not long after, you guys got dressed and yeonjun brought you home, you made sure to give him a kiss goodbye, and you might have even gotten his number. You knew you would be contacting him again, not for that magic of a dick he has, but his car was really clean and he’s also really friendly.

*Uber Notification*: Y/n tipped you $100

Note: Thanks for the hookup baby, hmu anytime you feeling risky😏💋

Choi Yeonjun: Wow wtf, that’s a big tip😲 also uhhh could you please make sure to leave a 5 star review….

𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖤𝗇𝖽．

A/n: Hola besties🫣 𝗂𝗄 𝗂𝗄 don’t scold me Ik I should have been published this, but I’m on vacation and I’m literally leaving nyc tomorrow sadly😓 It was so much fun!! But I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did, and feel free to leave any comments and reblogs ate greatly appreciated love uu🫶🏽🩷 not proofreading shii idgaf😚

—————————————————————————

Taglist:

@i03jae @ataver @ancnymcnzjy @pagelets @jakeswifez @beomjunnchoii25 @michaeljacksonsson @tyunderella

[theonottsbxtch]

ALL I NEED | CS55

an: i dont know if ive done this correctly seen as i dont listen to radiohead but this was a request and i hope ive done it justice let me know por favor. also my bum hurts so much guys. ALSO THIS IS NOT PROOF READ GIVE ME A BREAK PLS

wc: 2.6k

THE CRASH OF GLASS AND LAUGHTER spilled out onto the damp Monaco streets, but he barely noticed. Carlos Sainz tugged his cap lower, keeping his face in shadow as he slipped past another group of revellers. The race was done, the podium champagne still sticky on his skin, but the thrill that usually hummed in his chest had long since faded. Victory felt hollow now—a shiny bauble he’d collected too many times to care for.

He didn’t know what he was looking for as he wandered the city, only that he needed to get away—from the cameras, the sycophants, the unrelenting machine of Formula One that consumed him day after day. His feet carried him down a narrow alley, past flickering signs and shuttered windows, until the low, mournful sound of a cello stopped him in his tracks.

The music bled out of a small, dimly lit bar, curling through the cool night air like smoke. Without thinking, Carlos pushed the door open, stepping inside.

She was there, on a small stage in the corner, cradling the cello as if it were a part of her. The light caught on her hair, her bowed head, and the slight furrow of her brow as she lost herself in the music. The melody was achingly beautiful, but there was something raw about it too—something fractured and unfinished.

Carlos didn’t sit. He stood in the shadows, transfixed, watching as she played. He thought about the way his car felt when it was right on the edge, how the world blurred and narrowed until only the next turn existed. That’s what she looked like now: completely untouchable, a force of her own.

When the final note lingered in the air, she lifted her gaze, scanning the room. Her eyes found him, sharp and searching. Carlos felt exposed, as though she could see through the carefully constructed armour of charm and bravado he wore.

But then, just as quickly, she looked away, tucking her hair behind her ear and retreating backstage. Carlos stood there for a moment, caught between the urge to follow and the sudden weight in his chest.

For once, he didn’t know what to do.

Carlos hesitated before finally taking a seat at the bar, his eyes still flickering to the empty stage. The bartender, a wiry man with a worn cloth slung over his shoulder, raised an eyebrow.

“You here for the music or the whiskey?”

“Music,” Carlos said, though it came out quieter than he’d intended. He tapped his fingers on the counter, the adrenaline from the race still buzzing faintly under his skin. “She—does she play here often?”

The bartender snorted. “Depends on her mood. Some nights she’s here until closing. Other times she vanishes for weeks. Why? She leave you breathless too?”

Carlos didn’t answer, just reached for the glass of water the bartender set in front of him. He wasn’t sure what had left him so rattled—her music or the way she’d looked at him, as if he were just another face in the crowd. He wasn’t used to that.

By the time he left the bar, she was gone.

The next night, he found himself back in the same place. The race afterparty roared on in the background, teammates and sponsors undoubtedly wondering where he’d disappeared to. But he couldn’t shake the memory of her playing, the way the notes seemed to carry pieces of her with them.

This time, when she stepped onto the stage, he felt the same pull as before. Her music wove through the room like a thread, binding everything together. Carlos barely noticed the other patrons, the clinking glasses, the low hum of conversation. He was pinned in place by her presence.

When she finished, she didn’t look his way. Instead, she slipped off the stage and into the back, the cello case slung over her shoulder. Carlos didn’t think—he followed.

He caught up with her just outside, where the alley was quieter, lit only by the flickering glow of a streetlamp. She was packing her cello into a battered case, her movements brisk and precise.

“You’re amazing,” he said, his voice breaking the silence.

She glanced up, startled. Her eyes, darker now in the dim light, narrowed slightly. “Thanks,” she said, but the word sounded flat, cautious. She turned back to her cello.

“I mean it,” he pressed, stepping closer. “Your music—it’s…” He trailed off, unsure how to put it into words.

She straightened, looking at him properly now. “Shouldn’t you be somewhere else?”

It was the same question she’d asked the first night, and it stung more than it should have.

“Maybe,” he said, forcing a smile. “But I’m here.”

Her lips twitched—just barely—but the wall between them stayed firmly in place.

“You’re not the first man with too much money and too much time who’s wandered in here,” she said, slinging the cello case over her shoulder.

“I’m not here to waste your time,” Carlos said. “I just… wanted to hear you play.”

Something flickered in her expression then—surprise, maybe, or disbelief. “Well, you’ve heard me. Now you can move on.”

But she didn’t walk away. Not yet.

Carlos tilted his head. “What’s your name?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “Names don’t matter.”

“They do to me,” he said softly.

For a moment, she just looked at him, as if trying to decide whether he was worth her time. Then she let out a breath, almost a laugh, but without any joy.

“Go home, Carlos Sainz,” she said, her voice laced with something he couldn’t quite place.

His heart kicked in his chest. She knew who he was.

And with that, she turned and disappeared into the night, leaving Carlos alone under the streetlamp, more certain than ever that he wasn’t ready to let her go.

Carlos spent the following week bouncing between press events, team debriefs, and endless sponsor obligations, but his mind remained elsewhere. The memory of her—of her music, her sharp gaze, her dismissal—clung to him like the smell of burnt tyres after a race. He returned to the bar three times, hoping to find her again, but the stage remained empty.

It wasn’t until the night before he was due to fly out to Silverstone that he found her again. She was seated at the bar this time, a glass of red wine in her hand, her cello case leaning against the stool beside her. Carlos stopped in the doorway, thrown by the sight of her outside the sanctuary of the stage.

She looked up as if she could feel his hesitation, her brows lifting in faint amusement. “Lost, Sainz?”

Carlos grinned despite himself and slid into the seat beside her. “Not this time.”

Her expression didn’t soften, but she didn’t tell him to leave either. For a moment, they sat in silence, the hum of conversation and clinking glasses filling the space between them.

“Why do you keep coming back?” she asked eventually, not looking at him.

He hesitated. “Because I can’t stop thinking about your music.”

She let out a low laugh, her eyes meeting his. “Flattering. But I don’t think that’s the whole truth.”

Carlos opened his mouth to argue, but the words caught in his throat. She was right, of course. It wasn’t just the music. It was the way she carried herself, the way she seemed to exist entirely outside the world he knew—a world that felt more hollow with each passing day.

“I’m not here to waste your time,” he said finally.

“Then what are you here for?”

The question hung in the air, and for once, Carlos didn’t have an answer. He was used to knowing exactly what he wanted, exactly how to get it. But with her, everything felt uncertain, unsteady—like the moment before a corner, when the car teetered on the edge of control.

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

That seemed to catch her off guard. She studied him for a moment, as if trying to find the lie in his words. Then she sighed, taking a sip of her wine.

“Well, that’s honest, at least,” she said, setting her glass down.

“Stay,” Carlos blurted before he could stop himself. “Let me buy you another drink. Or talk. Or…” He ran a hand through his hair, suddenly self-conscious. “Just… stay.”

She tilted her head, a faint smile playing on her lips. It wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t hopeful either.

“You think I’m the kind of person who sticks around?”

He leaned closer, his voice low. “I think you’re the kind of person who surprises people.”

That caught her off guard again, and for a moment, he thought she might actually laugh. Instead, she downed the rest of her wine and picked up her cello case.

“Goodnight, Sainz,” she said, her voice softer this time, almost gentle.

And just like that, she was gone again.

The weeks that followed were a blur of races, podiums, and media appearances. Carlos kept telling himself to let it go. To focus on the championship, to push the memory of her into the background where it belonged.

But no matter how fast he drove, how tightly he gripped the wheel, he couldn’t shake the thought of her.

It was after a particularly gruelling race in Silverstone, where a mechanical failure had left him crawling to the finish line in seventh place, that he found himself staring at his phone. Without thinking, he searched the bar’s name. An event listing popped up.

She was playing again.

Carlos booked the first flight to Monaco.

The bar was quieter than he remembered when he walked in that night. She was already on stage, her eyes closed as her fingers moved across the strings of her cello. The melody was different this time—softer, slower, but just as heart-wrenching.

She saw him as soon as she finished, her gaze locking on him through the low light. She didn’t smile, didn’t nod, but she didn’t look away either.

This time, when he approached her after the set, she didn’t brush him off.

“You’re persistent, I’ll give you that,” she said as he slid into the seat across from her.

“And you’re impossible,” Carlos countered, leaning forward. “But I think I’m okay with that.”

She studied him, her expression unreadable. Then, for the first time, she smiled—a small, fleeting thing, but it made something in his chest tighten.

“Alright, Sainz,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “You’ve got my attention. Let’s see what you do with it.”

At first, their connection was tentative, like a melody slowly finding its rhythm. Carlos started flying to Monaco every chance he got, slipping away from the chaos of the circuit to find her. She never told him to come, never invited him into her life, but she stopped pushing him away.

They spent hours in quiet corners of the city—sharing stolen moments by the harbour, wandering narrow streets where no one recognised him, and sitting in her small apartment while she played for him. She told him stories about the pieces she chose, about the composers who lived and died with their genius unrecognised.

“Why cello?” he asked one evening, as she leaned over the instrument, her fingers gliding across the strings.

She glanced at him, her lips twitching into a faint smile. “It’s the only thing that made sense to me. I grew up in chaos, and the cello—” she tapped the curve of its body, “—felt like a way out. Or maybe just a way through.”

Her honesty stunned him. Carlos realised how little he’d told her in return—how carefully he’d avoided letting her see his own chaos.

“What about you?” she asked, leaning back and meeting his gaze. “Why Formula One?”

He hesitated. “Because it’s all I’ve ever known.”

“That’s not an answer,” she said, her voice soft but insistent.

“It’s the truth,” he admitted. “I started karting when I was four. My dad built my first car in our garage. After he died… it was all I had left of him.”

She didn’t say anything, but her eyes softened, the sharp edges of her usual reserve smoothing for just a moment. Carlos reached for her hand, and for the first time, she didn’t pull away.

For weeks, they existed in their own fragile bubble. Carlos began weaving her into his world—bringing her to quiet dinners with the team, introducing her to the mechanics who knew him better than anyone. But she stayed cautious, always keeping one foot outside the door.

It wasn’t until the Monaco Grand Prix that the cracks began to show.

She agreed to come to the race, though she made it clear she wasn’t there for the spectacle. “I just want to see what you’re running from,” she said, her words cutting more deeply than she realised.

On race day, she stood in the paddock, surrounded by the chaos of photographers, team members, and fans. Carlos was in his element—smiling for the cameras, joking with his crew, the golden boy of the circuit.

But when their eyes met, she looked out of place, as though she’d been dropped into a world that didn’t belong to her.

Later, when the race was over and Carlos stood on the podium, champagne dripping down his face, he scanned the crowd for her. She was gone.

He found her that night in her apartment, packing her cello into its case.

“You left,” he said, still in his race suit, his voice raw with disbelief.

“I stayed longer than I should have,” she replied without looking at him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means this,” she said, gesturing between them, “doesn’t fit. Your world—it’s suffocating. And I…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “I can’t be part of it.”

Carlos stepped closer, his frustration boiling over. “You don’t even want to try. Every time I get close, you pull back. Why?”

“Because I’ve been here before!” she snapped, her voice breaking. “I’ve been the girl who gets left behind when the real world calls. I know how this story ends, Carlos.”

“This isn’t just a story,” he said, his voice low, desperate. “It’s us. You and me.”

She closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging under the weight of his words. “I don’t know how to be part of your world. And I don’t think you know how to stop running from it long enough to be part of mine.”

Her words cut deeper than any crash ever had. Carlos stood there, silent, as she picked up her cello and walked out the door.

In the weeks that followed, Carlos threw himself back into racing, driving harder and faster than ever. The headlines celebrated his victories, his unrelenting determination. But inside, he was hollow.

He tried to reach her, but she didn’t answer his calls. He showed up at the bar, but she wasn’t there. She had vanished, leaving behind only the memory of her music and the ache she’d carved into his chest.

It wasn’t until he saw the programme for a symphony performance in Vienna—her name listed among the musicians—that he realised where she’d gone. But by then, it was too late.

The story ends with Carlos on the track, his car hurtling through the final lap of the championship race. The roar of the crowd, the flash of cameras—all of it blurred into nothingness. He crossed the finish line, victorious once again, but instead of relief, all he felt was loss.

Somewhere, she was playing, her music reaching places he couldn’t follow.

And for the first time, Carlos wondered if the chase had cost him the only thing that truly mattered.

the end.

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