#I NEED THIS TO GET REACH OKAY I NEED TO SEE WHO Gets It

[amirasainz]

I have a request for Lando Norris x Sister!reader where she gets cheated on. Please🫶🏻 I love your writing

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Big Brother to the Rescue

The paddock was buzzing with activity, fans cheering and cameras clicking as drivers moved between interviews and meetings. It was a typical race weekend—hectic, thrilling, and intense. But for Yn, none of it seemed to matter.

She walked beside Lando, her older brother, keeping her head down. Normally, she loved being at the Grand Prix. She’d tease Lando about his starts, laugh at his banter with the other drivers, and soak in the high-energy atmosphere. But today, her heart felt heavy.

Lando, always in tune with her moods, glanced down at her and frowned. “You’re too quiet,” he said as they reached the McLaren hospitality area. “This isn’t like you. What’s wrong?”

Yn sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

That was all it took for Lando’s protective instincts to kick in. “Oh, you’re definitely talking about it. Did something happen? Who do I need to fight?”

Yn couldn’t help but chuckle lightly at his immediate leap to violence. “It’s nothing. Just...my boyfriend cheated on me.”

Lando froze mid-step. He turned to her, his expression shifting from shock to anger. “He what?”

“Cheated,” Yn repeated, her voice cracking slightly. “With some girl he met at a party. I found out yesterday.”

Lando clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. “That absolute—” He cut himself off, taking a deep breath. “Okay. First of all, you don’t deserve that. Second, I’m going to make sure you’re okay. And third, if I ever see him, he’s toast.”

Yn smiled faintly at his overprotective tone. “Thanks, Lan. But I don’t think anything can cheer me up right now.”

Lando wasn’t having it. “Challenge accepted.”

---

Throughout the morning, Lando hovered around her like a mother hen. He brought her tea, her favorite snacks, and even a McLaren hoodie to keep her warm. The other drivers began to notice.

“Why is Yn so quiet today?” Carlos asked, walking over to where she sat with her tea. “You’re usually giving Lando a hard time.”

“She’s going through something,” Lando replied, his tone making it clear the topic was off-limits. He wrapped an arm around Yn’s shoulders and pulled her closer. “But don’t worry. I’ve got this.”

Carlos raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further. He ruffled Yn’s hair affectionately before heading off.

A little while later, Charles and Pierre stopped by. “Yn, you’re not smiling,” Charles said, crouching down to her eye level. “That’s illegal. Lando, what have you done?”

“For once, it’s not my fault,” Lando said, rolling his eyes. “She’s just—she’s sad. Leave her alone.”

Pierre, never one to resist a joke, smirked. “Do you need us to scare someone off? We’re good at that.”

“I can scare people off just fine,” Lando said firmly. “Thanks.”

Yn managed a small laugh, which made Charles and Pierre exchange victorious looks.

---

Later, when Ollie came by, he took one look at Yn and immediately tried to lighten the mood. “I’ve got an idea,” he announced, sitting down beside her. “What if I became your new boyfriend? I’d treat you like a queen.”

Yn laughed for the first time all day, the sound catching Lando’s attention from across the room. He walked over, arms crossed.

“Really, Ollie?” Lando said, glaring at his friend. “That’s the best you’ve got?”

“What?” Ollie said, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “I’m just saying, I’d be an upgrade.”

Yn shook her head, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous, but effective,” Ollie said, winking at her.

Lando wasn’t amused. “Stick to racing, mate.”

Ollie shrugged and walked off, leaving Yn smiling. “He’s an idiot,” she said, leaning her head on Lando’s shoulder.

“True,” Lando agreed. “But if it made you laugh, I’ll allow it.”

---

As the day wore on, Lando continued to dote on Yn. He handed her tissues when she teared up, reminded her to drink water, and even skipped a strategy meeting to sit with her in the quiet corner of the hospitality area.

“You know,” Yn said softly, “you’re a really good brother.”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a smirk. “But thanks. And for real, Yn, don’t let that guy make you feel like you’re not enough. He’s the idiot, not you.”

Yn sniffled and smiled up at him. “You’re the best.”

“Duh,” Lando said, pulling her into a hug. “Now, what do you say we watch the race together? I’ll dedicate my first overtake to you.”

Yn laughed, feeling lighter than she had all day. “Deal.”

By the time the sun set over the paddock, Yn was back to herself, and it was all thanks to Lando—her overprotective, slightly annoying, but always reliable big brother.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

How do I write basic movements, I'm not a native speaker so it gets hard for me to define basic bodily movements. Even if it's as simple as reaching out and taking something off the counter

Facial expressions, gestures, and eye gaze are often identified as the 3 major types of body language, but other aspects such as posture and personal distance can also be used to convey information.

A few common gestures & their possible meanings:

Pursed lips. Tightening the lips might be an indicator of distaste, disapproval, or distrust.

Lip biting. People sometimes bite their lips when they are worried, anxious, or stressed.

Covering the mouth. When people want to hide an emotional reaction, they might cover their mouths in order to avoid displaying smiles or smirks.

Turned up or down. Slight changes in the mouth can also be subtle indicators of what a person is feeling. When the mouth is slightly turned up, it might mean that the person is feeling happy or optimistic. On the other hand, a slightly down-turned mouth can be an indicator of sadness, disapproval, or even an outright grimace.

A clenched fist can indicate anger in some situations or solidarity in others.

A thumbs up and thumbs down are often used as gestures of approval and disapproval.

The "okay" gesture, made by touching together the thumb and index finger in a circle while extending the other three fingers can be used to mean "okay" or "all right." In some parts of Europe, however, the same signal is used to imply you are nothing. In some South American countries, the symbol is actually a vulgar gesture.

The V sign, created by lifting the index and middle finger and separating them to create a V-shape, means peace or victory in some countries. In the United Kingdom and Australia, the symbol takes on an offensive meaning when the back of the hand is facing outward.

Crossed arms might indicate that a person feels defensive, self-protective, or closed-off.

Standing with hands placed on the hips can be an indication that a person is ready and in control, or it can also possibly be a sign of aggressiveness.

Clasping the hands behind the back might indicate that a person is feeling bored, anxious, or even angry.

Rapidly tapping fingers or fidgeting can be a sign that a person is bored, impatient, or frustrated.

Crossed legs can indicate that a person is feeling closed-off or in need of privacy.

Open posture involves keeping the trunk of the body open and exposed. This type of posture indicates friendliness, openness, and willingness.

Closed posture involves hiding the trunk of the body often by hunching forward and keeping the arms and legs crossed. This type of posture can be an indicator of hostility, unfriendliness, and anxiety.

The term proxemics, coined by anthropologist Edward T. Hall, refers to the distance between people as they interact.

Just as body movements and facial expressions can communicate a great deal of nonverbal information, so can the physical space between individuals.

Hall described 4 levels of social distance that occur in different situations:

Intimate Distance: 6 to 18 inches. This level of physical distance often indicates a closer relationship or greater comfort between individuals. It usually occurs during intimate contact such as hugging, whispering, or touching.

Personal Distance: 1.5 to 4 feet. Physical distance at this level usually occurs between people who are family members or close friends. The closer the people can comfortably stand while interacting can be an indicator of the level of intimacy in their relationship.

Social Distance: 4 to 12 feet. This level of physical distance is often used with individuals who are acquaintances. With someone you know fairly well, such as a co-worker you see several times a week, you might feel more comfortable interacting at a closer distance. In cases where you do not know the other person well, such as a postal delivery driver you only see once a month, a distance of 10 to 12 feet may feel more comfortable.

Public Distance: 12 to 25 feet. Physical distance at this level is often used in public speaking situations. Talking in front of a class full of students or giving a presentation at work are good examples of such situations.

Source ⚜ Some Additional Resources:

Anatomical Movements

Types of Body Movements

Human Body Movements

Hope this helps with your writing! Definitely have trouble with this at times as well.

[sweettoothy]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐒 𝐄𝐍𝐃

╰ SHOW ﹕ ARCANE !

︵ WARNING(S) ﹕╰ swearing ��� violence ﹕ sex

︵ relationship ﹕ Vi x fem!fragile!reader x Caitlyn

NOTE: short chapter ? (If you guys have any questions head to my inbox ^^, and I all know we wanna see a sex scene where they’re bumping against each others clits, and scissoring, It’ll happen soon trust me)

⟣・S2・WATCH IT ALL BURN︰

YOU WALK INTO a pretty battered up place, a hand on your hip as you walked next to caitlyn. you were still a little injured from yesterday but that’s okay, the green smoke was clouding your goggles that were attached to your face, causing a frustrated sigh to escape you. the rest of the enforcers including you, were searching for jinx after the incident that had happened.

It wasn’t just an incident, it was a pretty big one, cause caitlyn’s mom got caught in the crossfire. least to say it wasn’t surprising that caitlyn was on the verge of losing it, but she was holding her composure the best she could.

Not to mention you getting hurt was one of her biggest regrets, she wish she could’ve protected you more— but things happen.

Vi checks over her shoulder from time to time to make sure you’re alright, she doesn’t want you getting caught in her sister’s bullshit. It was pretty scary being here, if you were truthful.

You never met jinx but you’ve heard so many good and bad things about her. Honestly, none of it seemed to make sense anymore. She just sounded like a broken person overall, someone who just needed help.

Jinx was hiding somewhere near the ceiling, she could see you, caitlyn, and vi. her pink colored eyes landing on you as she raised her gun slightly, she wondered what it would be like if vi were to lose the most precious thing she’s had in her life— due to being in jail for long 7 years.

You and caitlyn really switched vi’s life around, even though right now she didn’t like having to be an enforcer. But if it was to stop her sister? It was the right thing to do, it has to stop at some point.

Jinx hand starts to shake as tears prick her eyes, she leans back and hides behind a wall— not bothering to take the shot.

She’s just hated what her sisters become, so lovestruck on you and out to get her— it wasn’t fair.

You flinch slightly when music suddenly comes on, making you step back quickly.

“It’s okay, (name).” Maddie tells you, placing her hand on your shoulder. “No one’s there.”

Caitlyn’s eye twitched when she saw the way maddie had placed her hand on your shoulder, her lips upturning into a frown as she grew a little annoyed— maddie always used the sweet act with you just to get close.

And it pissed off vi and cait.

YOU HAD TO take a minute to catch your breath as you leaned against the wall, collapsing to your knees as you lift up your top underneath your shirt, the gash still there from the time you had gotten injured after the explosion. Vi and caitlyn make their way towards you, their expressions full of worry and concern.

“Are you okay, love?” Caitlyn asks as she kneels to your level, the height difference between you three very visible. Cait being taller than vi and vi being taller than you. that was so cute.

Vi tucks some of your hair behind your ear as she rubs her thumb over your cheek, “we can take you back. you didn’t have to come with us.” she tells you, leaning forward to kiss your forehead.

“No, no,” You reply. “I want to help. I’m tired of lying in bed doing nothing.”

Caitlyn knows it wasn’t the best time to be taking at look at your boobs but they were so round and pretty she just wanted to put her hand over it and squeeze them in her possession. If only her thoughts weren’t so vivid right now, she probably would be dead set on getting revenge on jinx which—of course—she still is.

Vi reaches to grab the curvy part of your waist, her hand easily squeezing there gently. “Okay. but if you feel sick let us know.”

“I’m okay, guys, seriously.” You tell them, “I can handle myself.”

“If you’re sure.” Caitlyn replies, trying to keep her dirty thoughts away.

If they were out of sight, they’d be out of mind. right?

Wrong!

Vi couldn’t help but take a look at your chest again, oh this felt so wrong and disrespectful but it felt so good at the same time. when she first met you, she already knew she would take a liking to you.

The thought of being between your legs right now and wanting to hear you whimper was not what she had in mind but she wanted it to happen, she craved it to happen.

Standing up you dust yourself off, “okay-- let’s go get the others. I think I know a route.”

“After you sweets.” Vi replies softly, dusting herself off.

Caitlyn stood up as well, vi taking a long look at your ass before quickly adverting her gaze.

They do not know how long they’re gonna last.

END OF CHAPTER TWO

[threeacttragedy]

Entry 12: The One Where We Start Laying the Yellow Brick Road to Italy

I realized the other day that, even though I like to bounce around from place to place in the Lukola timeline, I probably needed to start tightening things up on the ship if I ever wanted to get to the end of the story. And, yes, dammit, this story better have a finale at some point because there’s nothing more annoying than an open-ended ending, particularly in the romance genre.

Today we’re going to take a quick jaunt over to Italy because –

NO! Not because Luke is allegedly filming there. If you’re into real-time stalking, you’re in the wrong blog. But, I’m sure there’s a Discord for that.

It’s because I’ve had several people ask for my opinion about the change in behavior between Luke and Nicola during their Day 1 interviews there. Wait – people are interested in my thoughts? Wow, that’s actually kind of nice. Thank you! Okay, back to what I was saying –

Was there a change in behavior when Luke and Nicola reached Italy? Yeah, actually, there kind of was.

By May 9, we had been gifted with a slew of material from Luke, Nicola, and the Bridgerton cast and, I must admit, those early interviews are some of the most entertaining of the tour. In the very beginning, Nicola appeared as the utmost professional – charming, intelligent, and witty at the right moments – and Luke played her likeable counterpart to “Book Colin” perfection – bouncing between being awkwardly boyish and wickedly roguish, all while looking at Nicola like she had just served him homemade peanut butter crumble.

The two of them together, playing off each other, in my opinion, was better than Bridgerton Season 3 (you cannot beat the World Tour being 99% Luke and Nicola, with only a few random side characters taking up screentime). There was some major “Electric Love” radiating from those two throughout the tour, but it seemed very much heightened in the beginning (probably because they hadn’t yet answered the same question 67 times). By the way, if you haven’t heard that song by Børns, go have a listen. It will, at the very least – hopefully – put you in an upbeat mood for the day.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes – was there a change in behavior between Luke and Nicola when they reached Italy?

Absolutely.

Do I know why?

Absolutely not.

Perhaps Luke was bent because someone spilled his coffee, or Nicola was upset because her stylist made her to wear that little silver bow in her hair. In my opinion, the most intriguing part of Day 1 of the Italy press junket was that Luke and Nicola struggled with answering the question, “What is love?” I swear they both babbled on like two kids in debate class who hadn’t bothered to read the material given to them before taking their respective podiums. They finally seemed to settle on Luke’s “Maybe it’s, like, connection.” Well, they seemed to be missing the “connection” that day.

Honestly, no one can explain their “don’t stand so close to me” vibe during those first day interviews except Luke and Nicola. But, we can at least have some fun and speculate about it with a bird’s eye view. At this point, you should know that I love spreading the puzzle pieces out and seeing how they might all connect. Most people – when putting a puzzle together – start with the side pieces, right? You’ll get my joke in a moment (I hope).

In March 2024 – I don’t know the specific date because my timeline is rather murky going back that far (I was unaware Lukola even existed!) – Luke traveled to Los Angeles for a photo spread with InStyle magazine. I’ve heard two versions of this story. The first being that Luke traveled to Los Angeles with Antonia alone; the second being that he traveled to Los Angeles with his friend group, which included Antonia. I couldn’t tell you which is true, and it really doesn’t matter because it doesn’t necessarily add or take away from today’s story.

Before I get started, I wanted to give a “hurrah” to The-One-Whose-Group-Chat-Fills-in-Lots-of-Missing-Bits-for-Me-Including-the-Part-Where-Video-Footage-of-Antonia-in-Los-Angeles-Seemed-to-Indicate-a-Celebrity-Was-Not-the-Videographer-and-There-Were-So-Many-British-Accents-in-the-Background-One-Would-Fancy-a-Guess-She-was-Traveling-with-a-Group.

Moving along…

On April 7, 2024, Antonia posted a series of photographs and clips to her Instagram grid indicating she had been in Los Angeles, including one where she was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory and one where she was sitting at a table marked with the number “95.” On April 14, she posted a second set of photographs, tagging her location as Beverly Hills, California and using “End of Beginning” as her audio (yes, I side-eyed this choice of music so don’t feel bad if you did as well). The second photo dump included her lounging on a rooftop.

I’m not going to delve into posts made by Luke and Nicola during that timeframe. I mean, I’m sure Nicola’s comment, “’Friends’…sure Jan,” on Luke’s April 11 reshared post about Bridgerton Season 3 was only meant to be applicable to Polin. And, if Luke wanted to use yellow and black hearts to represent the colors Nicola and he were wearing in his April 12 post, that’s cool, too. And, I am definitely not going to speculate on Nicola’s April 15 post (for Big Mood) that Luke liked, and she captioned, “I will bite off anything that dangles.”

By April 21, Luke and Nicola were in Australia at the World Premiere of Bridgerton. I am only going to provide a quick overview of Australia instead of a full-fledged recital because, at some point, I will almost certainly dedicate an entry to this country. Let’s start with Luke pulling off the hottest walk-up in Netflix human history (I mean, have you watched it in slow motion?). Then, we had the hard launch of the handholding business (because why again?). And, we had Luke tripping over his words, “We’re very, like, giving…I’m not talking about those scenes…” Oh, and Nicola telling an interviewer that, “[y]ou can’t keep a good girl down,” and, in response, Luke’s lips curling into a wicked-ass Cheshire cat's. We had them in the garden, with Nicola bending down to hug Luke after she had scratched/hit/petted his head. Perhaps I should not mention the possibility of a man’s shirt being visible on a bed behind Nicola (I said possibility not that it was). And, Nicola telling Luke, “You’re the funnier one,” when he was concerned that perhaps Benedict was funnier than Colin. Then we had the “Nicola-in-the-green-dress” day where, as they were going down the steps, Luke seemed to instinctively reach for Nicola’s hand, but she played it cool and took his arm instead. Oh, and that entire “green dress” day in general (I mean, there was so much shit going on that day). And, best we do not forget Nicola saying, “the best foundation for love is friendship,” which mirrored the bracelet “someone…in Australia” gave Luke that read, “Do you believe the best foundation for love is friendship?” Because that’s not suspicious at all. Alright, let’s get the fuck out of Australia – but not before I mention Nicola commenting on Luke’s April 27 Instagram post with “Ready for the next?” and Luke replying, “Absolutely.” Yeah, yeah, yeah, their shenanigans in Australia expanded the USS Lukola tenfold.

Oh, also, let me throw this in here because, if you are a “ring truther,” this fact plays a significant role in the Lukola timeline. If you do not know what a “ring truther” is, that’s perfectly fine. You can catch up by reading Entry 6 (The One Where I Explained the Claddagh Ring to My Dad) of my blog. I mentioned in Entry 6 that some Lukola sleuths have stated the metadata they pulled from the sketches of the Claddagh ring uploaded by Chupi indicate they were done as early as April 26. In other words, it means the Claddagh was likely commissioned between Australia and Italy. In fact, if we are to believe Chupi when it said it took four weeks to make the ring, then it had to have been commissioned by May 9, 2024, at the latest. Oh, lookie there, that’s Day 1 of the Italy interviews.

But, before we get to May 9, let’s pause on April 29. That was the day Luke’s InStyle spread was published – yes, the one I mentioned earlier. Luke has pictures from this photoshoot still on his Instagram grid – in fact, Nicola commented, “Yess dude!!” on them – but those aren’t the pictures I want to talk about. No, I want to talk about the pictures InStyle posted on its Instagram grid that day. These photographs came directly from Luke, which was confirmed by the InStyle article when it said, “…the actor delighted the InStyle team by delivering the polaroid photos he’d taken for this story tucked oh-so-carefully in a little brown bag for safekeeping.” The pictures Luke provided, among others, included one where he was laying on a blanket in front of the Griffith Observatory in Los Angeles; one where he was sitting at a table marked with the number “95;” and one where he is sitting in a lounge chair on a rooftop. If you want to see the pictures, InStyle still has them available – you just need to go through hundreds of posts to find them. Luke did not like this InStyle post, which was kind of odd because he was tagged in it, and they were reportedly his pictures.

Why did these InStyle polaroids seem so familiar?

Oh, that’s right, because they were.

Remember that April 7 post of Antonia’s I mentioned a bit ago? Yeah, the one where Antonia posted a bunch of random pictures from Los Angeles and – only after InStyle posted Luke’s polaroids – fans realized Antonia had preemptively posted her version of some of Luke’s polaroids.

I am not going to speculate too much about these pictures or their implications in this blog post, but these pictures may resurface in future posts because I find myself side-eyeing the fact they even exist. And, we should probably accept that Luke was aware of them before his pictures came out on April 29 because he threw a like on Antonia’s April 7 post. Could it have been a “blind” like? Sure, I guess, but the logical side of my brain says he probably looked through them at the time she posted. Let’s not worry too much about it right now, though.

After trying to write out my “general” opinion about the pictures several times, I finally decided that the best way I could articulate my thoughts was through the conversation I had with my father. Yes, Dear Dad returns again for another insightful Q&A.

I started by showing Luke and Antonia’s three “matchy” pictures to my dad and then asked him to compare them. To be clear, the pictures were their respective Griffith Observatory, Table 95, and Rooftop Lounging pictures.

Me: “So what do you think?”

Dad: “About what?”

Me: “Ugh! Why did Antonia take those pictures?”

Dad: “Well, to show she’s part of the ‘in’ crowd. The only reason I can see them being taken is if she was going to put them on the Internet.”

Me: “Uhh, as a matter of fact, she did put them on the Internet! Approximately three weeks before Luke’s were published.”

Dad: “See! I’m not as dumb as you think.”

Me: “Whatever. So, you really believe that? She took them to show people that she was, like, there?”

Dad: “Yeah. Why else would she take them? They’re not the kind of photos you’d take normally. What’s she going to do, put them in an album and show her friends in five years and say, ‘Look, I sat in Luke’s chair?’ Who does that? Nobody. Plus, Luke’s pictures look like they were taken with a polaroid camera and Antonia took hers with, I guess, a phone. Why use two different cameras? Again, it doesn’t make sense. Seems to me like she knew what pictures he was taking, and she was trying to copy them so she could put them on the Internet.”

Thanks, Dad.

You do not have to accept my father’s thoughts on the photographs. Everyone is entitled to their own opinion. However, I think we can meet in the middle and opine that, at a minimum, Antonia’s pictures caused the weak Lukolas to jump overboard; at most, they gave some people stalker vibes; and somewhere in between, they introduced Antonia's negative influence over the fandom and what some may consider trolling behavior (even if it wasn’t recognized then).

Now, before we land in Italy on May 9, let’s summarize what has happened during the preceding two months.

First, we had Luke traveling to Los Angeles in March with Antonia, either alone or as part of a friend group. Luke had pictures of himself taken while there.

Second, we had Antonia posting pictures in early April that would be linked directly to Luke’s pictures by the end of the month.

Third, throughout the month of April, we had Luke and Nicola traveling together for the World Tour. We have all seen these interviews, and we have all formed independent opinions about them.

Fourth, based on Chupi’s own words, we know the Claddagh ring must have been commissioned no later than May 9.

Okay, now we’ve reached May 9, Day 1 of the Italy press junket.

Besides the press interviews, what happened on that day?

Well, Antonia reposted Luke singing Coldplay’s “Yellow” to her TikTok account.

Uhh… Huh. Interesting.

I mean, it’s possible that this was just a coincidence and she just liked Luke’s version of it. Or, it’s possible Antonia knew that “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song and she anticipated trolling Nicola and/or the fandom with it. But, if we believe she knew “Yellow” was the Polin wedding song, that means either Luke told her, or someone with that knowledge told her (i.e., someone from Luke’s team or family/friend group). We also know that Luke mentioned this song in the May 16, 2022 Netflix Tudum article when Nicola and he were asked about their song choices for Season 3. Luke stated his frontrunner was “Yellow” by Coldplay “because of Penelope’s dresses.” Regardless of why Antonia posted the song, I find it hard to imagine Netflix, Bridgerton, Shondaland, Nicola, or Luke were too impressed by Antonia resharing it on TikTok. I mean, at this point, Netflix & Co. would surely have been aware that Antonia’s “copycat post” went over with the fandom like a wet blanket in December in Canada. I imagine some questions were being asked and Luke may very well have received a hand slap from Corporate – and maybe even from Nicola.

But, that’s not the only thing that happened on May 9.

Luke posted his Homme magazine spread to his Instagram grid on that day, too. He captioned the post, “Chatting through all things S3 with @hommeplusmag [o]ut next week x.” Nicola commented, “Yessss,” and Luke tagged his post with the location of Hackney, London. That last part – about Luke tagging the location in Hackney – apparently sent the fandom into a deep-dive of…Nicola’s backyard. Why? Because Nicola lives in Hackney (Nicola herself confirmed she lived in Hackney in a March 18, 2024 interview with Derry Now), and rumors started to circulate that Luke’s pictures were taken at her home.

Hmm, I didn’t realize May 9 was such a busy day, did you?

So, which came first – the chicken or the egg? Did Antonia repost “Yellow” to her TikTok before Luke posted his Homme in Hackney images to Instagram, or vice versa? I’m sure someone out there has this information. The answer might help shine some light as to why Luke and Nicola seemed “off” in the early part of their Day 1 Italy interviews. But, then again, does the order really matter? Regardless of who posted first, it would seem to me that “Yellow” was a very possible culprit for the different energy on set that day.

That, or Luke really was peeved over someone spilling his coffee.

[dreamscapeee222]

(I'm new to tumblr, sorry if I'm posting in the wrong place, I hope this is ask box)

I asked you to write about the relationship between the arcane characters and the reader who is very thin due to some health problems?

(Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my native language)

A/n: Hello!! I did lots of research with your request so I hope my work satisfies what you had in mind ^^

You deal with health problems that affect your weight

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

She’s not the type to pry. But she notices the little things—the way you don’t finish your meals, the way you curl up a little too tightly, like you're trying to protect yourself from the world. She never asks you about it, but she always makes sure you’ve got something to eat or drink when she knows you’re struggling.

She might drop a sandwich by your side, or hand you a water bottle without saying a word. It’s just her way of saying, “I see you,” without actually saying it.

If you ever get quiet for too long, she’ll be there, sitting next to you without forcing a conversation. It’s not about pushing you to talk—it’s just her letting you know you’re not alone, even in those silent moments.

Jinx

Jinx doesn’t always understand why you’re not at your best, but she feels it. She’s a whirlwind of chaos, always trying to keep you distracted, to keep you laughing. She doesn’t always get it right, but she’s trying, you can tell by the way she keeps pulling you into her nonsense, hoping that a little of her madness will rub off on you.

But there are times when she looks at you, and the mask slips for just a second. She sees how tired you are, how empty you seem sometimes, and in those moments, she doesn’t know how to fix it. But she doesn’t turn away. “You don’t gotta do this alone, okay?” she says, voice softer than usual. It’s a rare vulnerability, the one moment where she lets down the wall and shows you she’s scared too.

She might not know what to say or do, but she’ll always bring something to make you smile—even if it’s just a little.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn’s the quiet type, always paying attention to the little things that others might miss. She watches you—never in a way that feels overbearing, but in a way that shows she’s aware of when something’s off.

She doesn’t press you to talk, but she’ll always offer a gentle reminder that she’s there for you—whether that’s by quietly handing you a cup of tea, leaving a snack where you can easily reach it, or making sure you have time to rest.

She never pushes, but when you catch her looking at you with those soft, patient eyes, you know she’s not going anywhere. "Take it easy,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world. And for a moment, you actually believe it’s okay to slow down.

Ekko

Ekko’s the type of person who’s there without being too much. He notices when you’re pushing yourself too hard, and when he sees the signs—when you’re too quiet, when you’re too weak to do what you usually can—he’ll just quietly step in.

He won’t make a fuss, and he won’t ask you if you’re okay every five minutes. Instead, he’ll bring you a blanket when he sees you shivering, a drink when you look like you haven’t had one all day. He knows you don’t need someone to tell you what to do—you just need someone to make sure you don’t fall apart while you're doing it all.

Sometimes, he’ll sit beside you and not say a word. It’s just his presence, calm and steady, and it’s enough to make you feel like maybe everything will be okay. “You’re not alone,” he’ll say without looking at you. And it’s not just words—it’s his way of making sure you never feel like you’re fighting your battles by yourself.

Jayce

Jayce doesn’t know how to make things better when it’s you, and that frustration shows. He wants to fix things, to find the right answer, and he’s always throwing himself into research, into getting you the best treatment, the right food, whatever he thinks might help. But sometimes, it feels like he’s pushing you harder than you want, trying to make everything better without realizing that maybe what you need is just some quiet.

He doesn’t always know how to slow down, but there are times when you catch him looking at you, his expression softening when he sees the exhaustion in your eyes. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he says, and for once, it doesn’t come off as a demand. It’s a plea—something raw and real in the way he says it.

When you’re too tired to argue, he’ll just stay next to you, offering comfort in his own way. It’s not perfect, but you know he’s trying, and that’s enough for now.

Viktor

Viktor doesn’t say much, but his care shows in everything he does. When he sees you struggling, he doesn’t push you to talk about it. Instead, he quietly takes action—he makes sure your space is organized, makes sure you have what you need, even when you don’t ask for it.

You won’t hear him say, “I’m here for you,” but you’ll feel it in the way he adjusts your pillow without asking, or in the way he slides a cup of tea your way without a word. He’s not the type to crowd you, but he’s always making sure you’re okay in ways that don’t demand attention.

When you do catch him looking at you, there’s a softness in his eyes—an unspoken understanding. “You don’t have to be strong all the time,” he’ll say quietly, but it’s not just the words that matter. It’s the way he’s already got your back without needing you to ask.

Mel

Mel is the kind of person who knows how to give space without making you feel like you’re invisible. She’s quiet, observant, and when she sees that something’s not right, she’s there—but never in a way that feels like she’s pushing you.

Her care is in the little things—the cup of tea she hands you when you’re not feeling great, the soft touch of her hand on your arm as she sits beside you, giving you time to breathe. She doesn’t expect anything from you, just that you take care of yourself in your own time.

She’ll always remind you that it’s okay to slow down, to rest. “You don’t have to do it all at once,” she’ll say, and the gentleness in her voice makes it feel like everything else can wait. She’ll be there, waiting, until you’re ready to come back to the world.

Requests may be sent through the ask box. Only SFW.

[standamianwayne]

yandere!batfam/damian’s twin!reader

okay so! in these neglected!reader fics Dick is almost always the one who’s like trying to reach out the most. because of this, personally(!) i feel like he’s the kinda guy who just wants his family to be whole so he kinda takes up the position of like father+brother combined (eldest child syndrome lowkey). he kinda becomes the most present figure in the twins’ lives and i think it goes double for reader tbh.

like breakfast lunch dinner Dick is right there with her and yaps her ear off. i think that where Bruce is the kinda dad that wants you to finish what you start, Dick is the kinda brother that’s like “if you don’t wanna do it, then don’t” ykwim? wanna do ballet? he’s at every recital. hate it? well, it wasn’t for you anyways! any practice, game, show, concert, he’s there. and if you decide you absolutely hate whatever it is, he’s there for you too!

just like general supportive older brother, but turned up juuuust a smidge. i feel like in the yandere aspect, he’s not really the type to go try and murder someone. sure he might hurt someone, but he’d at least want to avoid murder. it’s more like he’s gonna try and keep her home/with him as much as possible. like where are you going? it’s family game night! when did we start family game nights? don’t worry about it! now come on, it’s monopoly.

jason, on the other, WOULD probably kill someone. buuuuut i think it’s more so if she get physically hurt by someone would he be pushed to murder. emotionally? he’ll probably just beat them up and threaten them. but if they put their hands on her? mmm yeah you’re dead. sorry!

i feel like jason, who’s literally died and come back to life consumed by rage, would see reader as the opposite of himself. as good, where he is bad. and i think that on one hand he wants to push her away, to not taint her with the darkness that consumes him. but on the other hand, he’s had so much taken from him, seen death at every corner, even met the man face-to-face. can’t he be selfish just this once?

so, in the early hours of the morning, before the sun comes up and his duty as Red Hood is done for the night, he seeks her out. he comes back to the manor, climbing through her bedroom window. she’s still asleep and he just stands there, listening, watching, reminding himself that she is alive and so is he. he doesn’t touch her, he can’t— can’t poison her good with his bad. so, he settles for observing. maybe one day he can work up the courage to speak with her, seek her comfort. but for now, he’s content with simply existing around her.

tim is also an observer in like a borderline stalker kinda way. makes everybody download life360 but he watches her location like a hawkkkk. also gifts her a phone that’s totally safe i swear! don’t mind that any texts from an ex or someone that you have bad blood disappear right after you get them. they probably just unsent them!

he’s like Dick in that he tries to convince her to stay home often. but his way of doing it is… different. you wanna go for a walk on this street? actually there’s footage of a robbery that took place near there recently, probably not safe. wanna go to a friend’s house? um, according to their school records, they got detention in 5th grade. that’s a bad influence, girl! don’t worry, we can play mario kart or something instead!

with duke i feel like, compared to the others, he’s the closest you’ll get to a regular brother. he’s the closest in age to the twins and he joined the batfam after damian in canon. he’s also very kind and soft(?) so it’s unlikely he’s gonna go full stalker and/or killer over his sister. don’t get me wrong, he could kick ass if needed. but when it comes to reader, he’s mostly just trying to bond with her. watching movies in his room, sneaking out to get ice cream together, even at the ‘Wayne Galas’ he’ll stick by her side.

duke is veryyy caring and passionate, plus i feel like he’s sympathetic as well. so when you need comforting, he’s probably the best to go to. cause he won’t be the kind to go find whoever made you upset and ‘talk to’ them. instead, he’s gonna comfort his sis! unless it was someone who physically hurt her, then he’ll probably pay them a visit. but he’s not gonna kill them, i just can’t see him doing that.

next up the batgirls 😛 just as a note this is all my interpretation of the characters. if you think it’s ooc, no you didn’t ❤️

also does anyone have a preference of using third person (she, her) or second (you, your)? i might switch to ‘you’ when i write the batgirls so its not confusing, but if anyone has a preference, let me know!

and thank you all so much for the love on the first part!!!! i’ve never uploaded fanfic before so this is so new to me 😅 but i appreciate it sm! love yall! ❤️

[caelivir]

hold me down | oliver aiku

synopsis. oliver’s always been different with you. he doesn’t figure out why until tonight.

pairing. oliver aiku x fem!reader | wc. 1.8k | genres. established relationship + fluff + pet names (princess & doll) | warnings. only a little suggestive cuz is it really an aiku fic if it isn’t?

notes. ooc oli because he would never in a million years do this but im just a girl and i have dreams okay. also a little late on this but thank you for 500 followers. i love love love you guys so much. | divider by @/plutism !!

when oliver comes home, he’s burnt out. the combination of a workout with the athletic trainers and an afternoon practice back-to-back had drained the life out of his muscles. he makes a note to never do one after the other ever again.

oliver sets his duffel bag by the side of the living room couch. he lets his weight fall back on the cream colored cushions. he takes a moment to stare up at the plain ceiling before his eyes flutter shut.

he ascertains that he wasn’t asleep for long when a gentle shake at his thigh slowly yanks him from his state of slumber. his mind is still groggy, yet oliver can already confidently guess who would dare to wake him just by the shape of the hand on his thigh. it's the only other person he gave a copy of his apartment key to. he doesn't question why you're here. he's used to you coming over to stay a few nights.

“you okay, oli?” you ask, hints of worry laced in your pretty voice.

��mhm.” oliver hums. he picks his head up. "no need to worry about me, princess."

you’re fresh out the shower. he realizes this after he picks up on the addicting scent of your coconut and vanilla bodywash that you keep stashed in his bathroom; he senses that there's something else mixed in with it too. he recognizes it to be hints of orris and cedarwood, a combo that he finds on his own clothes. his eyes travel and the sight of you in his shirt nearly makes him pounce on you. he doesn't have the energy for that though, so he opts for reaching out for your hand.

"are you sure? i only woke you 'cause i didn't want you sleeping on the couch. do you want to move to the bed?" you gently squeeze oliver's fingers. "i'll clean out your practice bag too if you want."

"no."

"no?" you chuckle in bewilderment at your boyfriend's sleepy defiance. oliver weakly pats his thighs. you bring your eyebrows together in thought.

your eyes had widened ever so slightly, and he knew you just figured out what he wants. you shake your head. "we don't have to today. you're tired."

"mmm, don't care." oliver denies your refusal and pats his thighs once more. he sees you sigh, the falling of your chest pushes the air out of your lungs, but a soft grin replaces it instantly because who are you to defy him?

you approach oliver, hiking up one leg to come down on one side of his body with the other following immediately after, settling your weight on his lap. your arms drape over his shoulders.

he squeezes your hips before asking the signature question. "how was your day, doll?"

"let me think." you play with the green tips of hair at the back of oliver's neck as you rack your brain for interesting moments to share with him.

oliver isn’t sure how this habit started, but he couldn't be bothered to determine the exact details of its beginnings. all that he’s certain of is the fact that this little routine you’ve developed with him is the best part of his day.

he adores the feeling that comes with your entire weight resting on top of him. he loves being able to take in every detail of your beautiful face up close. he’s addicted to your voice and the stories that you inject into his veins.

he'll admit, some days it’s not even about hearing about your day, some days oliver would use this established routine as an excuse to get touchy with you. his hands would wander down to your ass and you'd throw glares at him. your narrowed eyes would only egg him on more. in response, he’d sit up straighter to kiss your neck, sucking and nibbling at that one sweet spot that makes you scratch at his back. you’d lose track of your story, trading details in for stutters.

you'd say that it’s sly and underhanded. you'd chastise him for not listening, but some days you’re just as unfair. oliver could be in the middle of sharing his recollection of the photoshoot he had earlier in the day when you decide to sneak your hands under his shirt. you’d play dumb as he shivers beneath you, your doe eyes encouraging him to continue. he’d try to carry on with his story, but all he would be able to focus on is your palms running up and down his abs. you'd nod your head as he speaks, there’d be a twinkle in your eye that lets him know that you’re fully aware that he’s on the verge of snapping and taking you right there.

other days no words are exchanged at all. oliver can read your mind just by having your mouth on his. he can tell just by the way you tug on his hair and whine against his lips that you badly missed him.

and sometimes oliver isn't able to be there with you at all. he deems those days to be the worst. they're reduced to facetimes where you try to hide your pretty face from him. the calls lag and crash because some days he's halfway across the country or on an entirely different continent.

today doesn’t fall into either of those categories, and he's most definitely thankful that it isn't the last. today, oliver is solely focused on hearing from you. he lets your rambles take root in his bones. he studies you as you talk. the lights in your eyes rival the stars. the smile on your face as you recall the dog you saw at the park could kill a thousand men. the fire of your touch could set the world ablaze.

oliver is well-aware that he's not worthy to be graced with such beautiful sights. he's no saint. his past is stained with his unfaithfulness and his trail of many relationships. he isn't sure why you gave him a chance despite knowing what he's done. you had said that at least he was being honest about it, but that had only left him with more questions than answers. shouldn't that make you more put off about dating him?

he chooses to ignore it; he shoves the question deep into the corners of his head until it's practically invisible. instead on picking apart that question, he focused on you.

throughout your ongoing relationship, he's put thought into your dates, making sure that they're never exactly the same. he spoils you rotten but not with lavish gifts. the one time he did you were severely unhappy at his thoughtless spending, and thus he made a note in his mental archive to reserve such actions only for your birthday (and anniversaries). instead, he ties your shoe laces for you and he fixes your jewelry. he kisses away your tears when you cry and learns the recipes to your favorite meals. he sits you up on the surface of the sink in his bathroom and brushes your teeth for you when you're too tired to do it yourself. he lets you drag him into doing skincare and makeup because it gives him an excuse to admire how cute you look when you're focused, and he gets to relish in the feeling of your hands brushing against his face.

it was baffling. when oliver first started realizing how much he does for you, he felt like an alien had possessed his body. there was something that had latched itself onto the controls of his brain. that had to be the reason why he was acting so out of character. when he told this to itoshi sae, he was called a fucking idiot and a loser, and looking back, he probably was. the answer, the explanation for his new behavior was in front of him the entire time.

it's simply because-

"i love you." oliver utters out loud. your hands freeze in his hair. whatever you were saying previously dies on your tongue.

"huh?"

oliver blinks slowly. the words had slipped out unintentionally; the gravity of them crush him suddenly. the aftertaste of them is foreign, like they were never supposed to be spoken from him. it's new territory. it's the first time oliver's said that to you in the four months you've been together. it's the first time he's said that to anyone for that matter.

he contemplates taking it back, as if he could ever extract the words from the air and shove them back down his throat. but why bother with jumping through those loops? he has no good reason to take it back. he has no use spinning a truth into a lie. so instead, oliver offers you an upturn of his lips, his heart threatening to break out of his chest. he soaks in all of your microexpressions. your mouth is stuck in a cycle of opening and closing, your eyebrows drawn together in disbelief.

"idiot." you mutter shakily, gnawing at your quivering lip. you bury your face in the crevice of oliver's neck. it makes him smile. he knows your tells. you're about to start crying. "do you know how long i waited for you to say that?"

oliver pulls you in closer, wrapping his buff arms around your waist. "i know." he acknowledges. "i'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."

you tug hardly on his hair to get back at him. the pain spreads to his scalp, and he can't find it in him to be mad. "damn princess." he chuckles.

you remove your head from its hiding place. both of your hands slide so that they rest on either side of oliver's neck. in the light, he can catch the path of tears that fell from your eyes. "yeah, well, you deserved it."

"i know."

"i love you." you breathe out desperately. the four words that have been boiling inside you, the four words you've managed to cage up finally rush out and crash down like waves.

"yeah?" oliver smirks. you lean in closer, and he gives your waist a quick squeeze.

"yeah. i love you so much." you whisper in front of oliver's lips before he closes the inch gap between you two.

usually, when oliver kisses you, he's does so as if he's a starved man; he wants to devour you whole. this is nothing like that. he substitutes his hunger for softness. his lips are gentle against yours as if to prove himself to you. he wants you, with every fiber in his being, to believe that his words are true. his 'i love you's' are real and honest and come from the deepest parts of his heart. when you pull away, you both look at each other as if your each other's entire world.

"i love you, princess." oliver says. the words are still unfamiliar on his tongue, but he thinks he can get used to them. he'll say them as many times as he needs to if it meant that he can see that blinding smile on your face.

oliver aiku is no saint, but he'll do anything for you.

[nobodyknowsimalesbian777]

It's Just Buisness- Ambessa x Sevika (Arcane)

NSFW tags - hate sex, strap-usage (a!receiving), pussy-slapping (a!receiving), hair-pulling (a!receiving), sub!ambessa (she doesnt think so), dom!sevika

authors note: i always feel so slutty writing the tags after im done. like yeah u just wrote all that u little freak 😞😞😞 if you liked this go look at the art it was inspired by!! creators links are at the end, if you have any trouble dm me and i'll send the art to you!! okay hope u love im going to shut up now #holyyapamoly ----------------------------------------------------------

sevika and ambessa had an incredibly delicate relationship,

both women valued loyalty, power, and strength,

but above all else, the only thing they truly bonded over was their shared love of sex

once a week, the two women would meet at the brothel,

neither one of them worked there, but sevika insisted that it was the least suspicious place for "women like them"

ambessa urged that they at least come at different times, to avoid anyone getting the wrong idea.

truly, ambessa thought that being seen at a brothel was already wounding,

she hated that people might think she needed to pay a woman to have sex with her

in spite of this, ambessa stood in the lobby, her large frame already grabbing more attention then she liked

babette didn't even look up from her work as she waved the woman back,

she didnt expect payment yet, knowing exactly what she was really here for,

more, who she was really here for

ambessa rushed to the end room, aggressively pulling the beaded curtain aside as her eyes landed on sevika

"took you long enough." the younger woman snarked, her eyes trailing up and down ambessa's frame

clothes hit the floor faster then sevika had ever seen, and it wasn't long before ambessas naked body was pressed against sevikas clothed one

"it's just business." ambessa muttered, more to herself then anyone else

sevikas hand gripped ambessas braided bun, tugging it back "you always were a bad liar."

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

sevika stood behind ambessa, holding the taller woman's hip as she tapped her strap against her clit

ambessa felt cool metal grip her other hip, relishing in the bruising hold sevika had on her

one gentle push of her hips had sevika fully sheathed inside ambessa, who worked her hardest to remain quiet,

showing pleasure ment showing sevika had the power to please her, and she would not stand for that

"you call this rough?" ambessa scoffed, rolling her eyes at sevikas unusually gentle demeanor

a stinging slap landed on ambessas ass, and she turned around to see sevikas metal arm coming up and snaking around her neck, pulling her back

her flesh hand traveled around ambessas thigh, finding her clit with unsurprising ease

sevika pressed hard on her clit as she pulled ambessa towards her, nipping at her ear as she sneered

"you're not the one in charge here, general" the patronizing nickname urged a swell of slick to leak from ambessas cunt,

giving sevika the perfect opportunity to deliver a harsh slap to her clit, before pulling her hips back and ramming them into the taller woman

she quickly found a bruising pace, switching from grabbing at ambessas full tits and rubbing her clit with her metal arm

eventually, she settled on a punishing grip on ambessas bun, her flesh hand reaching around and clawing at her stomach

ambessas moans filled the room as sevika brutally slammed her hips into her, guiding her to lean her hands against the table in front of her

the back of her strap provided a delicious friction to sevikas clit, encouraging her to go that much harder in search of her own release

it wasn't long before ambessa was writhing under the younger woman's touch, her gruff moans transforming into needy whines and pleas

"this enough for you?" sevika huffed out, pressing her stomach against the swell of ambessas ass

"y-yes. that's- oh god..better" ambessa whined out, arching her back into sevika

the two women only lasted a few more strokes before coming undone, one after the other.

both of their muscular bodies intertwined as they came,

one who walked in might have trouble telling where one woman ended and the other began due to their closeness

in a moment of passion, sevika grabbed ambessas jaw, pulling her to the side and feverishly connecting their lips

the two women did their best to stay away from any sort of emotional intimacy, it was one of the rare things they agreed on,

and, although neither one would ever admit it, in this moment, with their bodies pressed together and their minds focused on only each other, they both caught themselves questioning "is this really just business?"

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

THIS FIC WAS INSPIRED BY SOME ABSOLUTELY AMAZING ART I HAD SENT TO ME!! im going to tag the creators twitter, and blog since the link to the art isnt working (dm me if you can!t find it and i'll send it to you!) . please please please go show some love to their art if you liked this fic, because this story wouldn't exist without them!! as always, i hope you all enjoyed this very, very much!

gang we all knew i was going to write the two buff muscle mommies getting freaky, it was just a matter of time.

also, ik ambessa bad but like i still want her to ptpom 😛

[shouyuus]

sfw; popstar!reader x vi in which u punch someone in face and vi finds that incredibly attractive

"who the hell--"

you pull the door open, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, the thin strap to your pink silk nightgown hanging off your shoulder.

"hey."

you frown, blinking at the skinny man standing across the doorframe, a fist held up as if to knock again.

"reese?"

the man smizes, leaning up against the doorframe, his eyes slicking down your exposed skin like an oil spill. you grimace, rolling your eyes. "you need to stop showing up like this. it's getting embarrassing."

"c'mon baby," he says, shrugging, trying to step into the door, "i know you've been missin' me --"

"uh. sorry. no --" you resist the urge to gag as he pouts at you, "we hooked up one time, and it was a mistake."

"it was the best night o'my life!" he crows, still trying to shove into the room but you narrow your eyes, blocking his path till he sighs, re-doubling his greasy smirk "and i'm pretty sure it was also the best night of --"

"princess?" vi's voice calls out from the bedroom. you sigh, glancing over your shoulder as her voice draws nearer, "what's goin' on?"

she rounds the corner to the hallway and pauses, her sleep-fogged eyes sharpening as she takes in the scene. a beat, and she's sauntering over, slipping an arm around your middle, pressing her chin to your shoulder, brushing a kiss to your cheek.

"everything alright? who's this, an old friend?" she looks reese over once, her expression the picture of a woman unimpressed.

you shake your head, leaning into her touch. "no, he's no one --"

"hey! pft, oh i see -- i leave you, and you decide to replace me with a beefed up enforcer whore -- oof --"

"ow."

vi lets out a sharp, startled laugh, her eyes widening as you pull your arm back, shaking out your stinging fist with a whine, cradling your hand.

"holy shit that really hurts," you say, pouting as vi takes your hand in hers, running a thumb along your reddening skin, her shoulders still shaking with laughter, even as she tries to sooth a thumb over your knuckles. she coos, kissing the back of your hand. you crinkle your nose, "you do that all the time?"

she grins, shrugging, "helps if you've had a lot of practice."

"-- y-you -- you broke my nose!" reese's voice is reedy as he holds his face, a thin line of blood trickling through his fingers, his eyes wide.

"oh shut up dude, you're fine. it'll set in a few days," vi snaps, rolling her eyes as she glances back towards the open door. you glare at reese, reaching for the small intercom on the wall.

"go away, reese. and find something better to do than stalk me, okay? ugh --" you huff, punching the call button for the security downstairs.

"h-hey! you can't just close the door on me --" reese tries to scramble for the doorknob but vi puts herself squarely between you and him, cocking an eyebrow. he falters, eyes flickering over vi's arms and shoulders, his lip curling with fear masked as distaste before he stumbles back, snarling at the pair of you, though the effect is largely dampened by the rapidly darkening bruise at the bridge of his nose and the blood smeared down his chin.

"w-whatever! i d-didn't actually wanna fuck you anyway --"

"oh do yourself a favor and get lost," vi says, slamming the door in his face just as the intercom beeps the life and you let the building security in on the situation.

"your hand okay?" vi asks, though her expression is a tug-o-war of concern and ill-concealed amusement.

you crinkle your nose, clenching and unclenching your fingers, wincing at the soft sting.

"yeah. that just hurt way more than i thought it would."

"aww, c'mere," vi tugs you into her chest, peppering your face in kisses before moves to your hand, laughing as you giggle. "my little warrior princess."

you whine, digging your nose into her neck, "don't make fun of me."

"i'm not!" though her voice is still clearly laced with laughter as the pair of you make your way back into the bedroom, "though, i gotta say -- that was kinda hot. like really hot."

you laugh, letting her scoop you up and press you down into the still-warm sheets. you bite your lips.

"yeah? maybe i should try punching my ex-hookups in the face more often."

vi's lips twitch. "yeah? you got alotta those?"

you frown, your pout returning in full swing, "no! ugh -- reese was -- reese was a very drunken mistake one night okay? we've all made choices we're not proud of --"

but vi is laughing, leaning down to catch your lips in a long, indulgent kiss. when she pulls away, your eyes are dark, your mouth sweet and soft around a half-caught breath.

"you know i don't care about your past, princess," she says, running a thumb along your cheeks, "all that matters --"

"is that you're the only one in my future?" you ask, smiling as you reach up to catch her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. vi's lashes flutter at the certainty of your words, before she's sighing into your neck, her lips warm against your skin.

"yeah. something like that."

you giggle, head tilting back as she kisses a line down your shoulder. and then you're squealing as she flips the pair of you, settling you firmly over her hips, a smirk twisting her lips.

"though, reese --" she makes a show of whistling beneath her breath, "you were really goin' through some shit, huh?"

you groan, burying your face in her chest. "you're never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

vi laughs, carding her fingers gently through your hair before dropping a kiss to your temple.

"nope. never."

[blitzwhore]

Hear me out—

(I know I've posted about this exact screenshot before, but I'm being plagued by visions again, I can't help it, okay? 😭)

The palace is taken over and frozen. Everything that Stolas had, the life he's always known, he has lost to Andrealphus—to the ice.

He's desolate. Horror-struck. All he can do is watch as his life ends before his very eyes.

Enter Blitzø.

Blitzø, who knows what it's like to lose it all. Who knows what it's like to watch his home go up in flames—to end up broken and alone.

And now he's a witness to this, too—to the palace, dead and frozen, being taken away from Stolas, and to Stolas cowering before Andrealphus. To Stolas breaking before this sight, paralyzed with fear.

And he can't bear it. He can't let this happen again—can't let it happen to Stolas.

He calls out for him, a desperate cry of, “Stolas!”

There's no reaction, so Blitzø holds Stolas by the shoulders and shakes him. “Stolas,” he says again, “you can't let him get away with this, you have to—”

“It's... It's over.” The words barely leave Stolas' mouth, as if his lungs, too, have been frozen in time. Tears slide down Stolas' face as he covers his mouth with horror. “It's all over.”

"It's not over!” Blitzø is yelling now. Fuck. Fuck. He promised himself he would never yell at Stolas again. But that doesn't matter now, because he needs Stolas to understand that— “You have to fight this, Stolas. I know you can. I've seen you, I—I know what you're capable of, just—please.” Tears burst out without his permission, but he doesn't care, he doesn't care—all he cares about is that this doesn't happen, not again, not to Stolas. “Fuck, Stolas, please.”

Stolas is looking at him now, watching with anguish as tears stream down Blitzø's face. Not understanding why Blitzø can't see, why he can't understand that there's no fight left in him. Not after everything he's been through. Not when he was always going to end up like this—filled with nothing but sorrow, and desperation, and a deep, crushing emptiness where his heart should be.

“Shit,” Blitzø curses under his breath, looking back at the palace and the icy fucker defending it.

He can't get through to Stolas... Not with his words.

There's only one thing he can do. There's only one thing that'll snap Stolas into action—that will make him protect what is his.

Carefully, making sure Stolas won't lose balance without him to lean on, Blitzø lets go. He lets go of Stolas and turns his body towards the palace.

“I'm not letting this happen,” he tells Stolas over his shoulder, voice carefully low. “Not again. Not to you.”

And then, before Stolas can reach out and hold him back, and with nothing but a knife to fight the Goetia before him, Blitz charges.

[short-honey-badger]

Doll 2

Pairings: Shanks x Female Reader

Summary: Shanks can't stop thinking about you and how you'll fit in with the crew

Warnings: late night thoughts and mentions of abuse

Doll Masterlist

Later that night, while Shanks lay in the room he'd rented, the redhead couldn't stop thinking about you. Even while pleasantly buzzed still from earlier, his mind was a whirlwind of thought, and as much as it disgusted him to consider, he did want to know what kind of slave you were. The Celestial Dragons were known to keep all kinds of races, from Fishman to Giants. Labor, entertainment, pleasure.

Shanks hoped that you hadn't been part of the latter. You didn't seem like it, didn't have the innate sultry look that Shanks had seen before, but that didn't mean you couldn't hide it from him. He could go ask you, demand you tell him since he was the one who decided to bring you on board, but the thought of doing that left an awful taste in his mouth. Shanks wanted you to trust him. He wanted to be your friend.

You hadn't told him much about your past, only the little bit that you’d been willing to share with him so far, but Shanks wanted you to feel safe enough that you would want to share everything with him eventually. He wanted to see you smile more, wanted to see you relax and feel at home with him and the rest of his crew. You wanted to know everything, so Shanks would make sure you got what you wanted.

A knock on his door tore the captain from his thoughts, and he jumped from the bed to open the door. You stood on the other side, a contrite expression on your face. His own schools into one of concern and lean against the doorway.

“Everything okay, Doll?” He asks quietly and has a hard time not reaching out to cup her face when you bite your lip and avoid his eyes. He waits patiently for you, not willing to rush you into anything that you might not be read for.

“I just wanted to say thank you. I didn’t earlier, and it’s been bothering me,” you ramble and then fall silent. You don’t want your new captain to rescind his offer to join him, but you’ve been instructed to say please and thank you since you could remember, even if whatever you’d been sent to do ended in punishment.

Shanks softens even more at your admission. He can see the old fear lingering in your eyes, and it makes rage boil in his chest that you’ve been subject to such treatment that a simple thank you made you so nervous. He doesn’t fight the urge this time to reach out to cup your face in his hand, his lips turning up in a sad smile.

“Sweetheart. You don’t have to thank me for something like this. Don’t think you have to treat me and mine like you had to treat those bastards. I don’t own you, Doll. You own yourself.”

He watches in mild panic as tears form in your eyes, and then he has a chest full of sobbing woman. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you closer to try and provide some form of comfort. Shanks isn’t the best at this, but for you? He’d try his damndest. He dips his head and presses a kiss to the top of your head and listens as your sobs begin to slow down into quiet sniffles.

You grimace as you pull away and look at his shirt from where your face had been pressed, “I’m sorry, I got you all nasty.”

Shanks laughs and shakes his head. You were adorable like this, and he couldn’t get enough of it, “Darling. I promise you that this shirt has had worse than some snot and tears on it.”

The look of disgust that paints your face is all worth the confession, and Shanks only laughs harder when you pull away and wipe your face. You crinkle your nose and eye him with a now skeptical look, “When was the last time you washed that shirt?”

Shanks aims an innocent look, lips pursed as he shrugs a shoulder. You scoff and cross your arms, but your fear from earlier seems to be gone, so the redhead is happy.

“Maybe it is a good thing I’m coming along. A crew full of men probably needs a woman’s touch,” You quip, and Shanks can’t help but silently agree. He won’t lie and say that the laundry doesn’t get piled up on occasion. Or the dishes despite Lucky Roux keeping the kitchen orderly. He’s guilty himself for letting his quarters get a little too messy. But he didn’t bring you along so that you could be their maid.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, _,” Shanks murmurs, tone dropping the playful tilt as he catches her chin in his hand, “I’m not bringing you with us for that.”

His heart thuds in his chest at the smile that you send him. You slowly reach up and wrap your fingers around his wrist, squeezing softly before letting your hand fall back to your side. It makes you feel good that Shanks is taking your comfort in mind, but you wouldn’t be a burden on his ship.

“I know that, but I don’t think I could physically just sit around and do nothing. I’ve worked… my whole life, Shanks, and I don’t want to be just another mouth to feed. I want to be helpful,” you say and shrug a little helplessly. The only break you’ve ever had was in the last month of your escape, but even then, you were constantly looking over your shoulder, wondering if this would be the day that someone recognized you and dragged you back to Marie Geois. The guilt of leaving the other slaves behind still ate at you, and you wished that you could have been able to take them with you.

“Then we’ll figure it out as we go, Doll,” Shanks promises and strokes his thumb along your jaw like he had earlier before he drops his hand. He doesn’t want you to think that he wants you for anything other than your company. Not that you’re not beautiful, but Shanks doesn’t want you to think he expected something like that from you. Not unless you wanted it.

You blush at th efeeling of the rough pad of his finger against your skin. You didn’t like it when people touched you, but you found that dislike absent when Shanks did it. It felt natural and kept you grounded in a way you didn’t expect. You flick your eyes up, catching his own and send him a small smile, “Thank you again, Shanks.”

The redhead meets it with a grin of his own. A yawn suddenly catches you off guard, and you cover your mouth with a hand, eyes squinting as you look away from him. Shanks snickers at the way your nose scrunches up and steps back into his room.

“Go catch some sleep, Doll. We’ll stay here a couple more days to resupply, and then we’ll be on our way,” Shanks yawns himself halfway through, his words coming out slow and choppy before they even out. He smirks when his antics make you laugh, and then he is watching you turn on your heel and lope down the hall, “Night, Doll.”

“Night, Shanks,” you call softly back, and then you disappear around the corner. Shanks sighs once you are gone. Mind stuffed even more with thoughts about you as he shuts the door and lays back down. He rubs a hand down his face and rolls to his side, vowing to figure out the details in the morning.

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-five of “obligatory sugar baby Kon” behind the cut. prev: (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Also then he fucking ruins his best non-funerary/non-gala slacks with ground-in gravel, rips a hole in the upper sleeve of his button-down, and nearly wipes out three times but only actually wipes out once, which ends up in him on his back and out of breath with Kon leaning over him and grinning down in delight as he reaches down to offer him a hand up. 

Tim takes it, because why the hell would he ever turn down the opportunity to hold Kon's hand? 

“That fall was sick,” Kon says as he pulls him to his feet, grinning wider at him. Tim isn’t really sure how to take that, considering. Like, Kon seems happy, but also he doesn’t love that Kon’s first comment was about him fucking up, so–“You’re really good at it, bet if you got tossed off a bridge you’d be super-easy to catch!” 

“. . . uh,” Tim says, vaguely bewildered. “Thanks . . .?” 

“And your balance is killer!” Kon continues enthusiastically, grabbing his other hand too and squeezing them both instead of letting go of him, and Tim realizes that Kon was, in fact, actually complimenting him with the comment about falling, which is . . . really weird, okay, but does make him feel better about the first comment thing. And, well . . . it does actually kind of make sense that Kon would be more impressed by examples of control, rather than strength or superpowers or stuff he sees every day. Like–technical skills over just throwing raw power at a problem until it stays the hell down, which is definitely what Kon’s used to. 

But also it makes literally no sense at all, because it’s Kon. The idea of big and bright and flashy Kon who does everything he can to take up space and get attention being the type to appreciate things like the fiddling little balance adjustments he did on the fly and the way he controlled his wipeout just feels, like–weird. 

Maybe it's just another example of a thing Kon is too busy acting cool to show Robin, but doesn't mind showing Tim Drake. 

“Thanks,” Tim says again, briefly wondering why Kon is completely incapable of putting up with Robin getting technical or detailed but can appreciate it in Tim Drake. 

. . . admittedly, the fact Kon wants to make out and, uh–take pictures with Tim Drake probably does make him more inclined to not find him annoying. Also Tim Drake isn’t the one in charge of both him and their entire team in regular stressful situations and there’s no one around who Kon might perceive him as stealing the attention of. 

Yeah, alright, he’s asking himself stupid questions again. 

Well, alright, so everything he was actually trying to impress Kon with is literally not even anything he cares about, all his best and slightly-too-Bat-level attempts aside, but he had pretty much expected it, just hoped that–

“The rail slide thing was so cool,” Kon continues again, sounding just as enthusiastic and back to beaming at him, and Tim . . . pauses, and then–“I dunno how you even did that without flying, and you did it so fast, and–” 

Tim doesn’t intentionally time it, but he needs to disassociate a little so he’s just counting a bit in his head, and therefore he knows that Kon spends exactly forty-seven seconds talking his ear off about literally every single one of the skate tricks he just did while still holding both his hands. Which doesn’t sound that long, technically, but definitely feels pretty long. 

And also pretty mortifying, because forty-seven seconds of Kon recounting every single trick that Tim is perfectly aware of having just done to him in an excited, delighted tone with his face all lit up in delight is . . . is a thing. That is happening to him. Actively. For forty-seven seconds. 

Forty-seven seconds. 

Tim really does not know how he’s supposed to pretend to not be going insane about this situation. Like that just isn’t a reasonable expectation. 

Kon stops to take a breath at second forty-eight, and Tim decides this is actually the perfect time to be more proactive in their physical relationship without any chance of Kon feeling like he had to drop any hints first. 

Well, no, Tim just grabs Kon’s face and kisses him stupid. But the first option is how he’s gonna explain why he did that to anyone he might ever have to explain it to, as opposed to if I didn’t kiss him right then and there I was going to have to go murder the Joker at LEAST fifteen years early and I just don't think Batman's thinly-veiled excuse for mental health could handle that, which is understandably a more loaded response and might lead to inconvenient follow-up questions he really doesn’t have time for in his schedule. 

Ideally he won’t be explaining himself to anyone, obviously, but contingency plans are contingency plans.

[motherismotheringggg]

Omg pleasure dom Nicky. His whining above you as his thrust get sloppier but god he just wants to please you. Won’t cum until you do 😫

completely unraveled 🖤

summary: see the request above, anon you ATE with this one!!

type: pleasure dom! nicholas x sub! female reader

tags/warnings: 18+, hella smutty, cock worship, ice play, oral (f! receiving), orgasm restraint, cream pie, slight blood drawn, cream pie, cock warning, aftercare

author’s note: i need a cold cigarette after this is 😮‍💨

word count: 2771

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

For Nicholas, your pleasure was everything—it consumed him, drove him, defined every touch, every kiss, and every movement of his body against yours. It wasn’t just about the act itself; it was about the journey he took you on every time you were together. He reveled in discovering the things that made you gasp, made your breath hitch, and sent shivers cascading down your spine.

Nicholas had an uncanny ability to read you, to anticipate your needs as if your body spoke a language only he understood. He could sense the smallest shifts in your reactions—the way your fingers gripped the sheets or the way your voice wavered when you whispered his name. He knew when to push, when to slow, and when to draw you to the brink and hold you there, teetering on the edge of ecstasy until you were begging for release.

For him, the ultimate reward wasn’t just your climax—it was the way your body melted into his afterward, utterly spent, and the glazed, euphoric fucked look in your eyes that made his heart swell with pride. His mission wasn’t just to make you cum; it was to take you to places you’d never dreamed of, over and over again, until every nerve in your body sang with satisfaction. When he was with you, his sole purpose was clear: to utterly and completely worship you, leaving you breathless, trembling, and blissfully undone in his arms.

————

Now, here you were back in your shared loft apartment with your boyfriend, sitting on the edge of the bed, your skin still humming from the aftershocks of the last round. The soft glow of the city lights filtered through the window, casting shadows across the room as you caught your breath. Nicholas came back from the kitchen, he had something in his hand but you couldn’t quite see it.

He stood in front of you, completely exposed. His cock, still red and throbbing, you went to fill your mouth with him. You loved the way he felt in your mouth, the perfectly rounded tip, and the perfect vainness of his shaft, you loved to worship his body.

To kiss down his body, planting soft kisses on each of his abs before taking him in your mouth. To kiss and bite on his thighs, tracing small circles on them until he slowly guided you to his member.

But he stopped you, he wanted to look at you. He took a moment to appreciate you, his eyes tracing the curve of your neck and the way your breath hitched in between each exhale. His gaze softened, the lust in his eyes replaced by something deeper, more intimate. You felt it too—the unspoken connection that tethered you both.

“Are you okay?” he murmured, his voice low and tender, just the slightest hint of concern mixed with the satisfied edge of a man who knew exactly what he’d just done to you. He wasn’t asking for reassurance; he wanted to know how deep he’d taken you, how far he could push you the next time.

You nodded, turning slightly to face him, your lips curving into a satisfied smile. "Thank you, Nicholas," you whispered, the words thick with affection and desire. He liked when you thanked him; when you made him feel as special as he made you. He reached down to cup your face, letting his thumb grace your bottom lip. “You’re so beautiful when you look at me like this…like need me”, he said as he glared at you, his eyes were dark with lust.

He leaned down to kiss you, grabbing your face in his hand as he had full control. The kiss started slow but grew into something deeper. Your tongues wrestled each other, before his slipped of your mouth and licked you. Licked your lips, licked your cheek, licked wherever he pleased. You were wrapped up in the euphoria of the kiss that you hadn’t see what he had in his hand from before.

It wasn’t until you felt the cold burn of an ice cube on your back, still covered in sweat and radiating heat from before. You let out a deep long hiss, falling into Nicholas as he continued to kiss on you. You were breathless, barely able to call out his name but still needing to let him know how good he felt,

“mmm Nicholas, that feels so good…”

“Is that right baby?”

“Yes Nicholas, I need you so bad”

“Tell me where you want me baby”

“Nicholas I --” you were cut short by Nicholas dropping to his knees, taking that same ice cube from your back, which had melted down some, and putting it in his mouth.

“Don't stop baby, tell me what you want”, he said, muffled with the ice cube slightly muffling him.

Nicholas leaned in, his cool lips with the ice cube brushing your clit, your back arched with sheer pleasure. Your pelvis instinctively shot backward, but Nicholas quickly wrapped his hands around you pulling you closer, as he continued.

The coolness was intoxicating, heightening every sensation, every nerve ending sparking to life under his touch. Your body trembled, shivers of pleasure wracking you as you grasped at his shoulders for stability.

You tried to pull away, but Nicholas wasn’t having it. His strong hands were on you, pulling you closer, keeping you in place as his lips continued to work you, the ice teasing and torturing you in the most delicious way.

"Tell me what you want, baby," he muttered, his breath warm against your skin as he kept you pressed against him, determined to make you beg for more.

The weight of his presence, the passion in his touch, was almost too much to bear. The ice and his lips worked in perfect harmony, sending you spiraling towards something that felt dangerously close to madness.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. "I want you, Nicholas," you gasped, barely able to form coherent words through the waves of pleasure flooding you. "I need your dick baby”, you whined and pouted, letting him know bad you craved him.

He kept going, he could tell you were close, the way your core squirmed under him, the way you thrashed about, the whimpering you tried to contain but failed miserably at. He knew you were right on the edge ready to to unravel and he wanted you to cum right there on his face.

“Nicholas … Nicholas please baby, please fuck me”, you whined out more, thighs clenched as your hips rode in rhythm with him. He didn’t let up once, when the ice cube completely melted, he worked at you with his tongue. The way he lapped at your wetness drove you crazy, every flick of his tongue had an individual hand in undoing you. When he sucked on your bud, you shuttered as your eyes rolled back into your head.

You knew Nicholas wanted you to hold out as long as possible. He reveled in it—how you could push yourself to the very edge, fighting the overwhelming wave of pleasure just to stay in control, just to tease him. He loved it. The way your body trembled, the way your breath hitched in anticipation, it drove him wild. He knew exactly when you were on the brink, when you couldn’t take it anymore, but you fought to keep from falling apart. The anticipation in your eyes, the way your muscles clenched—he lived for that moment.

And when you finally did let go, when you couldn’t hold it in any longer, when you surrendered completely to the pleasure, that’s when he felt it. The pride, the triumph of having taken you to that place, completely fucking you to your limit turned him on. The way you clung to him, your nails digging into his skin as you came undone, made him feel like the king of your world.

Your body quivered with the first wave of release, but Nicholas wasn’t done. He was relentless, his lips, his hands, his body all pushing you further, coaxing out every drop of pleasure, bringing you right back to the edge again and again. He wasn’t just content with one, not when he knew you could handle more.

You tried to hold on, but with each touch, each movement of his hands, it became impossible. The way he worked you, with such precision and care, the way he knew your body better than you did—it was overwhelming.

“I’ve got you, baby,” he murmured, his voice low, as if he knew you were on the brink of breaking. And he was right. He always knew. “Don’t fight it.”

The heat between you two was undeniable, and as the second orgasm hit, more intense than the first, your body gave in completely, trembling uncontrollably against him. Nicholas held you close, steadying you as you went through the motions, his hands gentle but firm, the pride in his eyes showing just how much he loved every second of it.

As you came down from the high, his lips brushed over your thighs, soft and tender, contrasting the intensity of what had just happened. "You’re perfect," he whispered looking up at you with a dark lusty look. His eyes were huge and dilated., He moved up to you to hold you as you caught your breath. You had shifted up on the bed while he lay next to you, rubbing you and making sure you were okay. You had caught your breath enough to pull him in for a kiss, another deep and passionate one. You moaned into each other’s mouths as the kiss grew deeper.

Your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the hard planes of his muscles beneath your fingertips. Nicholas, sensing the shift in the air, took the initiative. His hands moved to your sides, pulling you beneath him as he gently but firmly positioned himself on top of you.

He paused for a brief moment, pulling away slightly, his eyes dark with desire but also a hint of concern. "Are you sure?" he asked, his voice low, rough with barely-contained lust, his hand sliding down to massage your clit. He knew you wanted him, he just wanted to hear you whimper to say it.

You met his gaze, your chest rising and falling with deep breaths, your brows furrowing as you nodded. "Yes," you breathed out. "I need you so bad."

Nicholas didn’t need any more encouragement. He sat up, positioning himself above you as he adjusted to your entrance. With a slow, deliberate movement, he slipped inside, the feeling of your wetness guiding him in with ease.

The moment he entered you, you couldn’t contain the moan that escaped your lips. It was like an instinctual reaction to the depth and warmth of him filling you, your body instinctively arching toward him as your nails dug into his back.

Nicholas’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes closing briefly as he savored the feeling of being buried inside you. It wasn’t just about the act for him—it was about the way you responded, how you opened up to him in ways that made his heart race with a mixture of lust and tenderness. Your pleasure was his fuel, his every move driven by the need to make you feel as good as possible.

"God, you feel so good," he whispered, his voice rough and low. “So fucking wet and tight for me”, he continued, staying still for a moment, letting you adjust to the fullness of him inside you, his hands resting on either side of your body, holding himself up. The connection between you two was electric, both of you feeling the intensity of the moment, but Nicholas was waiting for you. He wanted to feel you tremble, wanted to see the pleasure flood your face.

He gave you a moment, but it wasn’t long before he couldn’t hold back any longer. Slowly, he started to grind, pulling back just enough before thrusting forward, the rhythm building as he sought out that perfect angle, the one that made your back arch and your breath hitch, knowing he was touching your cervix from how big he was.

His eyes locked with yours, watching every shift of your body, the way you reacted to each stroke. Every thrust of his hips was calculated to bring you closer to that peak, and with each movement, your moans grew louder, more desperate. The tension between you both was almost unbearable as he pushed you closer to the edge, but you were holding out for him—just like you always did.

Knowing what he wanted, you were holding out for him. Your body belonged to Nicholas, for him to play with and orchestrate an orgasm from you that almost brought you to tears.

Nicholas could see it in your eyes. You were so close, so close to breaking, but you held on. Your body quivered beneath him, straining against the delicious pressure building inside you. He knew you well enough to understand that you enjoyed the struggle—the way it felt to be pushed to your absolute limit, to be on the edge of complete surrender, all for him.

Your lip was swollen from how hard you were biting it, the ache in your chest growing with each thrust. Your nails had drawn blood from Nicholas’s back as you dug into him, the sting of your pleasure matching the heat coursing through your veins.

"Let me know when you're ready to cum, baby," Nicholas whispered hoarsely, his voice strained with his own restraint. His hair was floppy and slightly saturated with sweat, hanging messily over his face as he held himself above you, never once breaking the rhythm of his thrusts. The sight of him—wild and consumed by you—was almost too much to handle.

You tried to hold on a little longer, wanting to make him wait, but his relentless pace was beginning to unravel you, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel yourself tightening around him, the warmth pooling in your stomach as you fought to stay just a little longer.

Nicholas’s hands gripped your hips tighter, his breaths growing shallow, each one a little more ragged as he became more desperate. He could tell you were close—he always could—but the need to hear you fall apart before he did had him on the edge of his own control.

"Baby, please..." His voice was softer now, almost whiny, as his hips faltered for a split second. "Let go for me... I need to see you cum. Please." The desperation in his words only spurred you on, pushing you to the brink.

His thrusts started to get sloppier, less controlled, as if he was teetering on the edge himself. The wet sound of his cock slamming in and out of your wetness grew louder, the intensity in his eyes matching the frenzy in his movements. "I can’t... I can't wait, baby," he muttered, voice broken as he pulled you closer, pressing into you deeper, harder. His cock slid into you with an urgency that matched the mounting tension, his pace erratic but still aimed at pushing you toward your climax.

You couldn’t hold back any longer. With a sharp gasp, your body finally surrendered, the pleasure bursting through you in waves. Your back arched off the bed, your nails dragging down his back even more as the orgasm hit you, intense and overwhelming.

Nicholas's eyes locked on you, his jaw tightening as he felt you clench around him, riding out your release. He gave one last desperate thrust, whining as the pressure finally broke inside him. "Fuck," he groaned, his movements sloppy and erratic as he spilled into you, his body shuddering with his own orgasm.

He collapsed on top of you, his body trembling as he held you close, both of you still panting for air. His head rested on your chest as he tried to catch his breath, and you could feel the thumping of his heart against your skin, while he was still throbbing inside of you.

"You’re so perfect for me baby” he murmured between breaths, pressing a soft kiss to your collarbone. "You were made for me"

You ran your fingers through his damp hair, gently soothing him as he slowly regained his composure. The bond between you two, unspoken but felt, lingered in the air, heavy and undeniable. Nicholas had given everything to make sure you were satisfied, and in that moment, as you both lay tangled in each other’s arms, you knew he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[winchesterwild78]

An Unexpected Friendship pt 7

Master List

Characters: Jensen Ackles x Reader, Reader’s daughter, Jensen’s children

Warnings/Trigger Warnings: Language, mention of death, Mention of panic attacks, some angst, SMUT! 

A/N: This is a short story written in collaboration with @cheekygirl2309.

This chapter has Jensen realizing how much he messed up and working on fixing what he broke, with a little help from a sweet little girl. 😀

No disrespect to Jensen or his family. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. Written and edited fast-please overlook any errors. 

Minors DNI 18+

The next few days in the house were strained. The kids went to school and I stayed to myself for most of the day. Terri and the other nurse, Angela would alternate coming in and taking care of Jensen. His physical therapy was starting today, so Angela was waiting on the physical therapist downstairs with me.

“Hey, Y/N, how are you doing? This can’t be easy on you.” I looked up from the book I was reading, “I’m okay. My main focus is Jensen getting better. Then we can move on. His kids need him back to his old self.” “You and your little girl do too.” She offered a smile. I just nodded.

The pain in my heart had only grown since that day. Jensen and I hadn’t spoken since. I would wait until Terri or Angela was in the room with him before I’d go in and grab what I needed. I couldn’t look at him. Just hearing his voice broke me. 

Jared and Gen had come by to check on us and offer advice. They knew the gap between Jensen and I was only getting wider. Jared being the mediator he is, tried his best to help repair Jensen and I. 

“Jared, I appreciate everything you’re trying to do. I really do, but Jensen made it clear he blames me for the accident, and he doesn’t want me here. We haven’t slept in the same room since that day. I just have to figure out what to do. Jazzy loves him so much, and I love the kids. I can’t break her heart or theirs’, but I can’t continue to live with someone who is angry with me.” 

Jared pulled me into a big hug, “I’m so sorry, Y/N. You know you and Jazzy are welcome to stay with us if you need to. We know how you feel about going back home.” “I appreciate it, Jared, but I can’t drive a wedge between you and your brother. I love you guys too much to do that.”

As Jared and I talked, Gen went upstairs to check on Jensen. Angela was helping him sit back down when she walked in. 

“Hey Gen. It’s good to see you. Is Jared here too?” Jensen smiled. “Yes he is, but don’t use that smile on me Jensen Ross!” Jensen’s eyes went wide, “Whoa what did I do?” Angela excused herself to give Gen and Jensen some space. “You broke her fucking heart is what you did, Jensen. She’s lonely and so heart broken. She truly believes you blame her for the accident.” 

“Gen, I never said that to her. I don’t blame her.” “You might not have said it, but your actions speak louder than any words. Have you even tried to talk to her?” Jensen just shook his head no. 

“Dammit Jensen, you’re going to lose her and that beautiful little girl.” Jensen’s breath hitched. He knew Gen was telling the truth, but he wasn’t sure how to fix this or if you’d want to fix it.

The conversation with Gen and Jared was two days ago. Jensen had tried to reach out to you through text since you wouldn’t come near the room. He didn’t want to get the kids involved, so he figured he’d text you.

Jensen: Hey sweetheart. Can we talk?

Me: I’m not sure what there is to talk about.

Jensen: Us? How much of an asshole I am. How you have every right to walk away from me, and hate me.

Me: I don’t hate you, Jensen.

Jensen: Well, that’s a start. Can you come to our bedroom so we can talk?

Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea. I’m really tired. Maybe we can talk tomorrow.

Jensen: Oh, okay. I’d like that. I love you, Y/N.

Me: Good night, Jensen.

I put my phone down and sobbed. I wanted to run into the room and hold him. Kiss his lips and tell him how much I loved him. I knew he was hurting, but so was I. I was scared of never holding him again, never feeling his love again. 

I sobbed into my pillow. Sleeping down the hall from him was so hard. I craved his touch, I wanted to feel safe enough to sleep, but I couldn’t. Then I heard a soft knock on my door. I wiped my face, sat up and said “come in.” It was Jazzy. 

“Hey baby girl, are you okay?” I asked, trying to hide the tears. “I’m sad mommy.” I pulled her into my lap, “Why are you sad baby?” “Because you’re sad, and Daddy Jensen got hurt.” “Oh sweetie, I’m okay, and Jensen will be okay too. He’s doing great with his healing and he’s starting to walk around more.” “But mommy, you’re not in there with him. You’re in here and you’re so sad. Sad like when daddy died.” 

My breath caught in my throat. I didn’t know she knew I was so sad, I’d only cry at night after I was sure they were asleep. “Oh baby, I’ll be okay. I’m just sad Jensen got hurt and is upset about it. Everything is going to be okay baby.” I kissed her head and smiled, trying to fight the pain away. I carried her back to her bed, gave her Braveheart and kissed her head again.

I went back to the guest room and crawled in the bed. Covering my head with the blanket and burying my face deep in the pillow, I let out a scream and then I just broke. 

Jensen laid in bed, flipping through the photo album I had made for him. He missed me so much, my lips, my hands, my body. He knew he fucked up and it was going to take more than a text to fix this. 

As he put the album away, he heard a soft knock on his door. His heart leaped in his chest. “Come in.” He said softly, but loud enough to be heard. The door slowly opened. Thinking he was about to see me, he was a little taken back when he saw Jazzy. 

“Hey baby girl, are you okay? Mommy isn't here.” She climbed on the bed beside Jensen and snuggled next to him, “I know daddy, she’s in the other room, crying like when my other daddy died. She’s really sad. I hear her cry every night. Are you going to die too?” 

Jensen’s heart broke, hearing that you cried every night, “No baby girl I’m not. I’m okay. Mommy is just sad because I’m hurt and she can’t help me. I promise you I’ll make Mommy’s heart better.” “Okay daddy, I love you. I’m going back to bed now.” “I love you too sweetheart, and thank you for letting me know about mommy.” She nodded and left the room. 

Jensen was determined to get to me. He grabbed his crutches and headed towards the guest room. He lightly knocked on the door waiting for me to answer. I couldn’t hear the door through the blanket, pillow and the sobs. 

He opened the door and saw me, head covered and buried in the pillow, he could hear my sobs. Tears fell from his eyes. It broke him to see me so broken, knowing he caused it. He walked to the side of the bed and sat down, lightly touching my back. 

I shot up and looked at him. “Jensen, what are you doing here?” I wiped my face, trying to hide the fact that I had been crying. He lifted my chin with his hand, “Baby, I’m so sorry. I don’t blame you for anything. I fucked up. I took it out on one of the most important people to me, and now I’ve lost you.”

I looked at Jensen, I could see the regret and sadness in his eyes. “Jensen, you haven’t lost me, but you have to talk to me. We won’t make it if you don’t open up to me and talk to me. Why did you take it out on me? If you don’t blame me, then what was it?”

Jensen took a deep breath, “The day I got hurt I had been so distracted. All I wanted to do was be home with you and the kids. When Dee and I first started dating, we acted in the same town and didn’t have children, so being apart wasn’t an issue. After JJ was born it started to get harder, but we made it work. When you and Jazzy came into our lives, I never wanted to leave your side. Especially after everything you two had been through.”

“After I talked to you and you told me about Jazzy I got in my head. Thinking about how lonely she must be feeling and how she’d already lost one daddy and I was sure she was feeling like I left her too. I hated myself for making her feel that way.” I touched Jensen’s arm, “Jensen, she’s okay. I promise.” 

“What about her mommy?” His green eyes, full of regret, looked deeply into mine. “I’m getting there.” My breath hitched, it was hard to look him in his eyes. I swallowed hard, being this close to him I could feel his body heat. My heart rate picked up. Then his hand brushed against my cheek. I leaned into his touch. It had been too long since I felt him. 

Instinctively I leaned closer to him. I could feel his hot breath mixing with mine. “Jensen..” “Y/N..” My lips crashed against his in a kiss that was full of need, regret and love. Oh so much love. His hands tangled into my hair as we deepened the kiss. The pain, sorrow and anger from the past few days was slowly starting to melt away. 

When we finally pulled away from each other, our chests were rising and falling quickly taking in air. “I am so sorry, sweetheart. I never should have taken anything out on you. You and the kids are everything to me. I’d be lost without you five. Please baby, don’t leave me, don’t leave us.” 

“Jensen, you can’t do that to me. You can’t push me away when things get bad. You have to talk to me, if we’re going to make it, we have to deal with things together.” 

“I promise baby, I will never push you away again. I love you sweetheart, so much. I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you’ll still have me.” 

I placed my hand on his chest, “Jensen, I love you so much. These past few days have been horrible without you. I hated this distance between us.” He placed his hand on mine, “Then let’s go to our room and go to bed baby.”

I nodded as I helped Jensen stand and we walked back to our room. Once in the room, Jensen closed the door and I helped him back to the bed. He set his crutches to the side, and I slid in the bed. 

Jensen offered me his arm, and I scooted towards him, laying my head on his chest. He kissed the top of my head. “God I love you so much. I can’t believe I almost lost you. I’m so fucking foolish.” 

“Jensen, what really  happened on set? I know you well enough to know what we talked about before didn’t distract you that much.” Jensen sighed, “Well the scene I was shooting involved me saving a little girl about Jazzy’s age. Homelander was using her as bait to get to her parents. He killed her father and the little girl was crying out for her daddy. I had to rescue her, and when I started to grab her all I could think about was Jazzy and how I wanted to protect her and you from Robert. I started to have a panic attack and felt dizzy, lost my balance and fell. I was so embarrassed.” 

“Jensen, having a panic attack isn’t something to be embarrassed about. I’m sorry that scene triggered you and caused you so much pain. We are safe, Jensen. Safe because we have you. I hope you know that little girl in the other room sees you as her daddy. She feels safe with you, with your children. I see you as my partner, my love, my forever, my home. I love you so much Jensen, nothing will ever change that. You saved us not only from Robert, but from our empty life.”

Tears pricked Jensen’s eyes, and he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “I see you as my love, my forever, my home too. I see Jazzy as my daughter, you both fit perfectly here with us. I know the road that led us together was paved with heartache and loss, but I am so glad I have both of you.” 

I let out a deep sigh. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Jensen asked softly as he held me tight. “I was so scared seeing you in that hospital. It brought back all those buried feelings from when I lost Joshua. I was so scared I was going to lose you too. Then I’d have to go home and tell our babies you weren’t coming home. I didn’t know how I was going to survive that.” 

Jensen kissed me and pulled me tightly. “I’m okay, baby. I promise you won’t have to have that conversation with them.” 

I smiled and relaxed against him. “Oh, Y/N, can we get rid of the nurses now? They are great, but do I really need a nurse when I have you?” “Maybe. You don’t like it when Terri or Angela give you a bath?” I giggled. “You know what, no.” He laughed. “The only woman I want to see all of this is you, my love.” 

“Okay, I’ll call the agency tomorrow. Besides with you doing physical therapy you should be back moving around by yourself soon. I think we can tell them goodbye if you’re sure.” 

“Oh yes, I’m positive.” He kissed me again. “Hey sweetheart, do you think tomorrow you can help me take a shower?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’d love to, now let’s go to sleep.” 

“Good night sweetheart, I love you.” “Good night, Jens. I love you too.” We kissed again and then I fell into a peaceful sleep, wrapped in his arms. 

The next morning when I woke up I woke up with Jensen’s strong arms still wrapped around me. I snuggled closer to him and nudged him awake. “Jens, I need to get up and get the kids ready for school.” “Just five more minutes, please.” He said in a gruff voice, pulling me closer to him. 

About an hour later I was heading out the door with the kids to get them to school. Jensen was up and doing his physical therapy. He had a doctor’s appointment later in the afternoon, so he wanted to shower and be ready. 

When I got back home his physical therapist was getting ready to leave. I stopped him to check on Jensen’s progress. He told me Jensen was doing really well and he thought Jensen would be released back to work in another week or two. He just wouldn’t be able to do any stunts for another few months. 

Walking into our shared room I saw Jensen sitting on the bed without his shirt on. I bit my lip. God he was a gorgeous man, even covered in sweat from his workout. “You ready for your shower, baby?’

“More than ready.” He smiled. I put the plastic over his cast and started the water for him. He had a towel wrapped around his hips that left nothing to the imagination. My thighs clenched together. 

Seeing Jensen practically naked had my body reacting in ways that even made me blush. 

Jensen smirked, “Like what you see, darlin’?” 

I bit my lip, “God yes.” I let out a breath. Jensen pulled me closer and kissed me deeply. Biting my lower lip as he pulled back. 

I set up the shower seat for him. I knew it was easier for him to navigate the shower sitting down. I helped him in and handed him the showerhead. His bottom lip poked out in a pout. I chuckled, “What’s wrong?” “I thought you were going to help me.” “Jens, in order for me to help you I have to get in the shower, and I have my clothes on.” Jensen smirked, “So take them off.” 

I could see his length growing and my desire building. I slowly started to remove my clothes. My heart beating wildly in my chest. 

With my clothes off I climbed in the shower with Jensen. His eyes scanned my body and I blushed. “God you’re gorgeous, baby. Come ‘ere.” He pulled me close to him and I stood between his legs. His length was rock hard as it pressed against my thigh.

Jensen pulled my lips to his and kissed me. His hand snaked up my thighs and fingers went in between my folds. He smirked against my lips feeling how wet I was. I gasped as his fingers slid inside me, setting a rhythmic pace as he hooked his fingers up. 

My hips are moving in tandem with him. My hands rested on his shoulders as I began to give into the pleasure that was moving through my body. It had been so long since he touched me and I was embarrassed I was already close. 

I bit my lip to stifle the moan, “Jens, oh fuck, I’m close.” His fingers hooked up and he started rubbing my clit, “Let go for me baby.” His lips attached to my nipples, and he sucked hard. I screamed in pleasure. “Oh fuck, Jensen! I’m cumming.” My head fell backwards as his hands continued to work their magic. 

My legs began to shake and I wasn’t sure how much more I could take. “Jensen, I need you.” I breathed out. Jensen pumped his length a few times and I straddled him, taking every inch inside. I placed my hands on his shoulders to help steady myself. As Jensen adjusted and pushed further inside we both moaned. 

“God, you feel so good baby.” Jensen’s head laid in the crook of my neck. I began to move my hips and grind down on him. “Yes, baby! Keep doing that.” He kissed my lips in a deep, passionate kiss. 

I felt I needed more leverage so I got up, pulling a groan from him, then I sat with my back against his chest. I took his length in hand and guided him in. My legs placed firmly on the ground in between his. I used his thighs to steady my hands as I continued to bounce up and down. Each bounce pulled Jensen closer to his release. 

“Fuck! That feels so good, Y/N. Don’t stop, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum.” Jensen grabbed my hips and with a grunt I felt his load shooting inside me. His body trembling under mine as he filled me up. 

When he was done I stood up, cleaned myself and him up, and turned off the water. Jensen stood with my help, wrapped his arms around me and kissed me deeply. “That was amazing, baby. It’s been far too long.” I kissed his lips, “Yes it was, and yes it has been.” 

“Best shower sex I’ve ever had.” Jensen chuckled. “I’m glad, it definitely was for me too.” 

After we got dressed, Jensen pulled me in for a kiss. “I love you, Y/N. Thank you for not giving up on me, on us.” I lightly touched his chest, “Jensen, I will always fight for you, for us. I love you too.”

We left our shared room together, heading downstairs to leave for Jensen’s appointment. No matter what the doctor said today, I know we both will tackle it together. 

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[peppermintquartz]

Captain Buckley-Kinard is too good-looking, Kieren thinks to himself as he changes out of his turnouts, especially when he is smiling like that over family dinner that he himself cooked. It's "Bobby's Chili", though Kieren has yet to figure out who the hell Bobby is.

Kieren is happy to be posted to Station 28, don't get him wrong. It just sucks that he is crushing hard on his captain, knowing he has zero chance.

Because right there, next to his stupidly attractive Captain, is his captain's husband. Thomas ("Call me Tom") Kinard was a legend at the 217, according to some of Kieren's fellow firefighters from the same cohort; apparently, the man was mad enough to fly a chopper right into a hurricane, and on a separate occasion, flew into a raging forest fire in the San Fernando Valley while winds were raging up to 70 mph. On both occasions, scuttlebutt says, Captain Buckley-Kinard was involved too.

Anyway, Cap's husband has since retired. He is a silver fox. Those cheekbones should be illegal, and the deep grooves of his face that appear when he smiles only add to his charm. He's got a nice silvery stubbly beard too, and when he laughs, Cap lights up too. Kieren can see the young men they used to be when they gaze at each other.

It's aggravating.

It would have been easier if Kinard was a standoffish, arrogant jerk. But he's nice. He brings Cap special treats with extra snacks for the whole team; he helps to fix their cars ("keeps me out of trouble"); he's even flown Sandra and her wife in a chopper for a romantic getaway to Napa Valley. If the team works holidays, Tom Kinard will show up with a veritable feast, along with their twins (Joanna and Jacob).

It's really aggravating.

"You look irritated," Lenny says under his breath when Kieren finally joins them. Kieren elbows his partner when Lenny grins at him knowingly and leans over. "You're glaring at the trophy husband. Again."

"Shut up," Kieren manages to say without moving his lips.

"Okay I gotta go or I'll be late," Tom says, standing up. "The kids are having a sleepover at Parker's."

Cap kisses his husband, sweet and fond. "Say hi to Chim and Hen for me."

Tom crinkles a smile. "Will do. Love you. Be safe."

"Be safe."

Cap is watching his husband walk away like he can't get enough. Kieren can't blame him; even in his fifties, Tom Kinard has a very nice ass.

"You're so lucky, Cap," Lenny says, picking a soy sauce wing from the serving plate. "Maybe you oughta share some tips for us poor lonesome guys. How did you find your happily ever after?"

Cap grins, his blue eyes bright and he almost looks like he's blushing. "We had our ups and downs. Broke up once. Argued a lot. But we found our way eventually. And, uh, I'm gonna pass on some advice I was given about happy endings: You don't find it, son, you make it."

Lenny reaches out a fist and Cap bumps it. "Thanks, Cap."

"Anytime." Cap goes off to the oven when it dings.

Kieren is chewing thoughtfully on a morsel when Lenny turns to him. "Hey, I got a couple of free day passes for the aquarium that needs using up by next weekend. You wanna come with me on Thursday?"

Surprised, Kieren swallows and shrugs. "Sure, why not?"

"Great! I'll pick you up at nine, we'll grab breakfast, and then, fishies." Lenny looks like he's going to say something else, but averts his gaze and returns to his food.

Kieren catches Henderson's amused grin and wonders what he has done that's funny. Ah well.

Househusband Buck this, househusband Buck that, what about househusband TOMMY?

Give me Captain Buckley-Kinard and his trophy husband who puts silly little sticky notes in his lunch!! Please!!

[lucidbee]

Love Is A Science | Percy Jackson x Reader

Summary: You and Percy have always been best friends you just needed a little push for you to become more.

Word Count: 1.1k

Author Note: Did I write this in the car to eat dry turkey and complain to my family about what tariffs mean, yes. Did I get car sick from writing this also, yes. Not proofread. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Feel free to leave any requests. 

—---—---—‐--—---—---—---—---—---

You and Percy had been friends ever since he came to Camp Half-Blood. You both were always next to each other; if you weren’t, you were talking about them somehow. Every camper could see that both of you were meant to be together. The teasing and questioning were endless. The Aphrodite cabin had a blast creating different scenarios and challenging each other on who could get you two together first. For years the both of you had been denying any claims that you were anything more than friends. Both of you believing that you were just really good friends, companions in battle. 

But after the battle in Manhattan, things started to change, both of you becoming more aware of each other's presence, not wanting to be more than an arm's reach away from each other at all times. Something deeper had started to grow after all these years, something unspoken.

That's where you find yourself, both silently staring into the fire crackling on the beach. You’re wrapped in Percy’s arms, your back pressed against his chest. Before the battle, if anyone had asked, it would have been simply cuddling nothing more, than just a way for two friends to stay warm. However, now if you were asked the same question, you weren’t sure what you would say. It was different now, you didn’t just want to be around Percy anymore, you needed to be around him. You needed to know that he was safe, that you weren’t going to lose him. The possibility of losing Percy opened up feelings you had no idea you had for the son of Posideon. 

You wanted to kiss him, to be held by him, for him to fight every battle with coming home to you as his only goal. You were hopelessly and undoubtedly in love with Percy Jackson. The only trouble was that you had no idea how to bring the topic up to him. You had spent years denying the claims that you were lovers, was it possible for him to have the same change of heart as you? 

The fire crackled loudly filling any awkward silence. You knew you only had so much time to confess your feelings before curfew, if you didn’t do it today you knew you would talk yourself out of it every day to come. 

“Percy?” You call out not taking your eyes off of the flames.

Percy, who is usually quick with his words, had been unusually quiet this whole time. Usually, he would be humming a song, or bouncing his knee to create any sort of noise. Today he looked completely lost in his thoughts. 

“Percy?”

“A daughter of Aphrodite asked me out today,” Percy said looking down to look at you.

Shocked was the only way you could describe what you felt right now. Your heart started to race and your head started to spin, were you too late?

“W-what did you say?” 

Percy sighed before saying “I told her I would think about it.”

More dread filled your body. “Do you like her?”

“Well no, but there is no harm in just one date right?”

Your head was still spinning but your heartbeat started to slow back down, you still had time. 

“Do you like anyone?” You asked.

“There is this one girl, but I don't think she is interested.”

Your heart broke at that moment, you had waited too long. You could have had him years ago but now that you are about to lose him you have never wanted him more. Pain fills your body, and you find it more difficult to breathe. 

“She would be dumb not to be interested in you, Percy.” You say tears filling your eyes.

“Y/n are you okay, did I do something?”

“No, it's what I did,” You say tears strolling down your face.

“What did you do?”

“I didn’t tell you how much I love you and now it’s too late.” 

You stand up wiping your tears, needing to separate yourself from Percy. Percy soon follows but keeps his distance.

“Y/n?”

“I should have told you so much sooner, but we both needed time to heal after the battle and I was worried you wouldn’t feel the same way,” You ramble off walking back and forth.

“Y/N,” Percy yells.

Your head swings to look at him, tears still streaming down your face. Percy steps closer taking your hands in his. Both of you keep eye contact the whole time as he allows you time to calm down.

“I love you too”

“You what?”

“The girl I was talking about was you, I love you.” 

“This isn’t funny seafoam, you can’t joke about this, I’m barely holding myself together right now.”

“I’m not joking, in Manhattan, all I could keep thinking about was that I was terrified I was going to die before being able to kiss you.”

For what felt like an eternity you were finally able to breathe. The pain washed away into a feeling of overwhelming joy.

“Kiss me,” You say.

“What?”

“Kiss me, do you not want to anymore?”

“NO,” Percy yells.

Percy quickly takes you into his arms and presses his lips against yours. Your eyes quickly shut, wrapping your arms around Percy’s neck. It was everything you imagined and more, you could have stayed in the position for hours. That was until the sound of a horn being blown in the distance alerting you both that curfew was in a few minutes. 

“I don’t want to let you go,” Percy said nuzzling himself into your neck.

“Then don’t.

Percy looks at you in a confused way, when you finally explain it to him. 

“You’re all alone in your cabin, sneak me in.”

“You are brilliant,” Percy says giving you a light peck.

Percy quickly put out the fire that was still burning beside you, before taking your hand and rushing off of the beach and into cabin number three. You both leave grinning and completely absorbed in each other. Completely not noticing the daughter of Aphrodite and Athena hiding behind the bushes.

“Told you all they needed was a little push to figure out what they were missing out on,” Annabeth said.

“You are a genius and about to be the richest person in camp, we’ve been betting on them for the last four years,” Drew says walking back towards the Aphrodite cabin.

“What can I say love is a science, after all, let me know if you need any lessons.”

“Don’t push it, brainiac.”