#I think it just comes off as chaotic but it’s fine | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

misshoneyimhome · 2 days ago

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What's up buttercups! 💕

Chapter three is here, and things are starting to take shape! I know, we’re still keeping a steady pace, but trust me—good things take time (at least that’s what I keep telling myself while writing this f-ing slow burn…🙈).

As always, I hope you enjoy it. Happy reading, darlings! 😊✨

Tropes & warnings: inexperienced!reader x Auston Matthews, meet cute, strangers to friends, fake relationship, smut 18+, Auston x unknown female character, protected vaginal penetration

Word count: 6.8k Chapter one ; Chapter two

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Chapter Three: Pucks, Plans, and Pretences*

“Dearest Toronto readers, it seems our Ice King has traded his signature cool for something decidedly warmer. A newly surfaced photo from the depths of the Scotiabank Arena has set the internet alight, capturing Auston Matthews and his now-infamous Mystery Queen in a moment that could rival any story.

The city can’t stop talking.

But what’s the real story? Is this the beginning of something genuine or a strategic distraction for Toronto’s captain? Matthews, ever the enigma, isn’t saying much—but that smirk of his has done little to quell the rumours.

As for his Mystery Queen, she’s still just that—a mystery. Ambitious, poised, and undeniably captivating, she’s become the city’s obsession overnight.

Whether this is love, strategy, or something in between, Toronto is hooked. And with Matthews at the helm of this unfolding drama, one thing is certain: it’s going to be a season to remember.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

Tuesday –

Sitting by the high table in the compact kitchen of your small studio flat, you traced the rim of your coffee mug absentmindedly. The faint hum of the city outside was a comforting white noise, a familiar backdrop to your mornings. But the fragile peace didn’t last long.

Your phone buzzed sharply, shattering the moment. You groaned, setting down your mug to glance at the screen. Of course, it was Jess and Maya. The two of them had wasted no time diving into what was clearly the hot topic of the day.

Jess (7:13 AM): “Spotted: You and Auston. AGAIN. Girl, explain.”

Maya (7:15 AM): “We need a FULL breakdown. Coffee tonight. No excuses!”

You sighed, gripping the warm mug a little tighter as you composed a response. Your fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating.

You (7:18 AM): “There’s really nothing to explain.”

The reply came almost instantly.

Maya (7:19 AM): “Oh, please. You’re trending AGAIN. #MysteryQueen is still going strong. Spill.”

Jess (7:20 AM): “You can’t brush this off. Coffee tonight after work, our usual spot. Don’t make me come to your place.”

You let out a soft laugh despite the tension knotting in your chest. Jess and Maya were relentless, but their concern came from a good place. They were your best friends—your constants in a world that felt increasingly chaotic.

Still, the guilt nagged at you. They were cheering for you, defending you, believing you were swept up in some whirlwind romance. And here you were, dodging their excitement with half-truths and carefully constructed vagueness.

You (7:22 AM): “Fine. Coffee tonight. But it’s really not as exciting as you think, ladies.”

Jess (7:23 AM): “We’ll be the judges of that.”

Maya (7:24 AM): “Don’t forget the juicy details. We need to know EVERYTHING.”

You set your phone down with a heavy sigh, your appetite fading as stress settled over you like an unwelcome houseguest. It wasn’t just the messages. It was the weight of everything that had piled up over the past few days.

You stirred your coffee absentmindedly, watching the liquid swirl. The events of the gala played on a loop in your mind, every moment amplified now that the media had latched onto you. And then there was Auston.

Had you really agreed to fake-date Auston Matthews, the Ice King himself? The words “Let’s do it” echoed in your mind, making you wince. What had possessed you?

You knew the answer: desperation.

Auston’s reasons were crystal clear. He wanted control over the narrative. He needed a way to silence the incessant speculation about his personal life. His pitch had been logical, almost clinical. And you, standing at the crossroads of your career, had agreed.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. If his biggest problem is dodging rumours about his love life, he’s got it easy.

Your problems felt heavier. Tangible. Your boss’s voice rang in your ears, his warnings cutting through your thoughts: “No distractions. No drama. No more headlines.” The gala had already pushed you to the edge of his patience. And now? Now you were willingly diving into a situation that could unravel everything you’d worked for.

But wasn’t this what you wanted? A chance to make your mark, to prove you weren’t just another cog in the machine? Maybe this was the universe’s way of throwing you a lifeline—wrapped in chaos, sure, but a lifeline, nonetheless.

Or maybe you were just grasping at straws.

You sighed, pushing your barely touched breakfast aside. The decision had been made. There was no turning back now. Auston had given you an option, and you’d taken it.

Your to-do list for the day felt overwhelming. Face your boss. Navigate the fallout. And later, coffee with Jess and Maya. They’d want answers—real ones, not the half-hearted deflections you’d been giving them.

You weren’t sure how much you could—or should—tell them. But one thing was certain: you needed to pull yourself together. Time was ticking, and the last thing you could afford was to let it all spiral out of control.

Auston Matthews awoke with nothing but a grin on his face. The kind of grin that wasn’t about a win or a goal, but about the sheer satisfaction of knowing he’d set the board perfectly for the game ahead. Sunlight filtered through his bedroom window, casting warm, golden rays across the room. Felix, his Australien Bernedoodle, was already wagging his tail eagerly, sensing that his human was in a particularly good mood.

“Alright, Snuff” Auston muttered, stretching as he reached for the dog’s leash. “Let’s go.”

The grin stayed fixed on his face as he walked Felix through the quiet morning streets of Toronto, hidden just slightly under the brim of his cap. The rhythm of his steps matched the upbeat hum in his chest. Felix trotted ahead, pausing every so often to sniff a tree or a fire hydrant. Auston’s thoughts, however, were far from their usual pre-game routine.

You’d said yes. The moment replayed in his mind, not because he doubted it had happened, but because of the satisfying sense of control it gave him. You had agreed to his plan. Fake dating. It was genius, really. It ticked every box: no questions about his personal life, no endless media speculation about who he was seeing, and the cherry on top—it made him unavailable. Off the market. And if anything, it made him even more unattainable.

Felix barked once, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Alright, alright,” Auston chuckled, tugging the leash gently to keep his dog moving. “Don’t get too excited.”

Back at home, Felix flopped onto his dog bed with a satisfied huff while Auston grabbed his duffel bag and packed for the day. The grin still hadn’t faded. Tonight was a game night, and he had an away trip to Columbus. Normally, his thoughts would already be on the ice, visualising plays, but today his mind kept drifting back to you and the whirlwind of events from the past few days.

Auston wasn’t an idiot. He knew how the media worked. They’d dissect every glance, every move, every word exchanged between the two of you. That was the world he lived in—a world of scrutiny, where even his most mundane actions were twisted into headlines. And yet, for once, he didn’t mind. You weren’t like the others who had flitted through his orbit.

Most women in this position would’ve jumped at the chance to bask in the glow of his fame. But you? You seemed determined to avoid it entirely, almost as if the spotlight burned too bright for your liking. That was refreshing. It intrigued him. And maybe—just maybe—it was part of why this plan felt so right.

He paused mid-pack, considering for a moment if he should bring his PR manager into the loop. Ultimately, he decided against it. The man hadn’t even batted an eye at the first photo. For someone like Auston, these kinds of headlines were par for the course. A fake relationship wouldn’t even register as a blip on his radar. And besides, Auston didn’t want anyone meddling. This was his game, and he intended to play it his way.

His teammates? They didn’t need to know. Not yet, anyway. They’d complicate things with relentless teasing, and Auston wasn’t in the mood to deal with Mitch Marner’s inevitable barrage of questions. And his family? Absolutely not. All they needed to know was that he wasn’t available. End of story.

The airport was bustling with the usual pre-travel chaos. Players joked and jostled each other, tossing bags into overhead bins and making playful bets about who would score the first goal of the night. Auston moved through the commotion with his usual calm, but the grin remained—a subtle, smug reminder to himself that he had everything under control.

“Yo, Tony!” Mitch’s voice rang out as he flopped into the seat beside Auston. “What’s with the face? You win the lottery or something?”

Auston smirked, adjusting his noise-cancelling headphones. “Something like that.”

Mitch squinted at him suspiciously. “This have anything to do with the latest post? You know, the one that’s got X losing its mind?”

“Don’t start, Marner,” Auston replied, his voice even but amused.

“Oh, I’m starting,” Mitch said, leaning closer with a conspiratorial grin. “Come on, man. Spill. Who is she? I mean we know what she works with, but… She’s not another one of those random girls you keep fucking, is she?”

Auston sighed, pulling one side of his headphones down. “She’s just someone I’m getting to know. Relax.”

“Someone you’re getting to know?” Mitch echoed, his grin widening. “That’s all we get? Not even a compliment about her ass?”

“Drop it,” Auston said, though his tone lacked any real bite.

Across the aisle, William piped up. “If she’s just someone you’re getting to know, why’s she all over your social media? You’re usually better at keeping things under wraps.”

Auston shrugged, playing it cool. “She’s not all over my social media. That’s the media doing what they do.”

But Mitch wasn’t about to let it go. “You don’t talk about the other girls, but you’re dodging questions about her? That’s new.”

Auston shot him a look. “Maybe because it’s none of your business, Mitchy.”

The banter continued as the plane took off, Mitch throwing playful jabs from across the aisle and William chiming in with his usual teasing smirk. Auston brushed it off with ease, keeping his replies curt and nonchalant. But their questions lingered in his mind, nagging at the edges of his thoughts like a loose thread.

If his teammates were already this curious, what would happen when the media started digging deeper? And they would dig deeper. It wasn’t a matter of if but when. They’d dissect every detail, every inconsistency, every crack in the story. That’s when it hit him—he didn’t know enough about you. Not the kind of things that would make a fabricated relationship believable, at least.

Your favourite coffee order. Your go-to excuse for leaving a party early. The kind of music you liked to blast when no one else was around.

He needed to know something—anything—that could make this story feel authentic. His teammates might have been satisfied with the vague details he’d given them for now, but they nor the media wouldn’t let it slide. This had to look real. And for it to look real, he had to be able to talk about you like he’d known you for longer than a fleeting gala moment.

Auston leaned back in his seat, letting out a small breath. The team’s chatter faded into the background as he turned his focus inward. He’d have to talk to you, but it couldn’t feel forced. It had to be casual, natural. Just enough to set things straight and make sure the narrative stayed intact.

Satisfied with the plan forming in his mind, Auston allowed himself to relax, the familiar hum of the plane’s engines lulling him into a moment of calm. He adjusted his noise-cancelling headphones and gazed out the window as the city faded into the distance. The grin he’d worn all morning crept back onto his face, a mixture of confidence and anticipation.

This was going to work. It had to.

You might not realise it yet, but Auston Matthews had chosen you for a reason. You weren’t just a pawn in his game. You were the perfect partner in crime for the plan he was about to execute.

As you walked into the office, you held your chin high, shoulders back, just like Jess always encouraged during your frantic late-night phone calls. Her voice still echoed in your head: “Own it. Whatever you do, don’t let them see you sweat.” Easier said than done.

Your heels clicked against the polished floor with a rhythm that you hoped exuded confidence. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the charade pressing against your chest. The office buzzed with its usual energy—keyboards clacking, phones ringing, snippets of conversations floating through the air. But today, the atmosphere seemed to hum with something sharper, something just shy of gossip. Again, you didn’t have to hear the whispers to know they were about you.

You felt their eyes on you as you passed, a few heads turning slightly as you walked by. It was subtle—an extra glance, a barely concealed smirk, a phone quickly tucked away as if you’d interrupted someone mid-scroll through the latest viral photos. You’d expected this, but that didn’t make it any easier.

Your phone vibrated in your bag, but you ignored it. No doubt Jess or Maya was checking in to remind you of your coffee date later. Or worse, your boss with a sharp-edged “we need to talk.” Neither option felt appealing.

By the time you reached your desk, the tension in your chest had settled into a dull ache. You sat down, carefully placing your bag at your feet, and took a steadying breath. The screen of your laptop glowed to life as you opened it, the familiar sight of your inbox providing a small sense of normalcy.

But even as you sifted through emails, your thoughts kept circling back to the lie you were living. You felt bad for keeping Jess and Maya in the dark. They were your best friends, your ride-or-die crew, the people who’d been there for you through every triumph and heartbreak. But you couldn’t risk telling them the truth.

What would happen if anyone found out? The question lingered in your mind like a persistent shadow. Even the smallest crack in the story you and Auston would be concocting could lead to an avalanche. If word got back to your boss that this wasn’t just an accidental photo op but a deliberate ruse? You didn’t even want to imagine the fallout.

So, you kept your cards close to your chest, smiling politely when a co-worker passed by, nodding along to the faint hum of office chatter. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Jess and Maya—it was that you didn't want to burden them with this. The stakes were too high. Or maybe, just maybe, you felt a bit embarrassed about having agreed to it?

For now, your best move was to stick to the plan: keep your head down, stay professional, and pray the whirlwind around you would eventually settle.

But as the day stretched on and the whispers persisted, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope with no safety net.

During the workday, you did your best to stay under the radar, skirting through the office with a practiced air of nonchalance. Your strategy was simple: avoid your boss at all costs. Fortunately, his schedule was jam-packed with back-to-back meetings, giving you a much-needed buffer.

Still, you weren’t entirely off the hook. You’d barely rounded the corner when he appeared, laptop in hand, his expression sharp and unreadable.

“Y/N,” he called out, his tone clipped.

Your stomach flipped, but you kept your face neutral. “Good day, Mr. Manion.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yes, well. Care to explain why half the office is suddenly fixated on some hockey romance conspiracy theories? Or why your face seems to be at the centre of it, again?”

You swallowed hard, scrambling for a response that sounded calm and collected. “Just media being media,” you said lightly, forcing a small shrug. “They’re spinning something out of nothing. It’ll die down soon enough.”

Manion stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing as if he were trying to dissect the truth. “It better. We’ll discuss this later. My office, tomorrow morning. Or… when I have time for this mess.”

Before you could respond, he turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you with the sinking feeling that you’d just delayed the inevitable.

The rest of the day dragged on in a blur of emails and half-hearted attempts at productivity. No matter how much you tried to focus, the looming conversation with your boss weighed heavily on your mind.

By the time the clock struck five, you were almost relieved to escape the office and head to the coffee shop where Jess and Maya were waiting.

The café was warm and bustling, the scent of freshly brewed espresso mingling with the faint sweetness of baked goods. Jess and Maya were already seated in the corner, their expressions a mix of curiosity and impatience as they spotted you walking in.

“Well, well,” Maya teased, her grin widening as you slid into the chair opposite her. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

Jess smirked, crossing her arms. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, Y/N. Spill. Now.”

You sighed, wrapping your hands around the mug the barista had just placed in front of you. “Please, calm down. It’s not as exciting as you think. I promise.”

“Bullshit,” Jess said bluntly. “You’re trending. You don’t just get to brush this off.”

Maya leaned in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Come on. We’re your best friends. If you can’t tell us, who can you tell?”

There it was—the guilt. It crept into your chest like a cold weight, but you couldn’t let it show. You had to stick to the story.

“We met at the gala,” you began, keeping your voice as casual as possible. “He was… well, exactly how you’d expect. Arrogant, cocky, a total smartass.”

Jess arched a brow. “So, what? He just walked up to you and swept you off your feet?”

You hesitated for a fraction of a second before nodding. “Not exactly. I sort of… tripped, and he caught me. It was all very cliché.”

Maya gasped, her hands flying to her chest. “Like something out of a movie! I knew it!”

“It wasn’t like that,” you said quickly, laughing nervously. “He was just being polite. Honestly, I thought he’d forget about me the second I walked away.”

Jess tilted her head, her gaze sharp. “But he didn’t.”

You shook your head, taking a sip of your coffee to buy yourself a moment. “No, he didn’t. He’s been… persistent. But it’s not what you’re thinking. He’s not really my type.”

Maya’s jaw dropped. “Not your type? Are you serious? He’s Auston Matthews. Literal perfection.”

“Perfection isn’t exactly charming when it comes with an ego the size of the CN Tower,” you shot back, earning a laugh from Jess.

“Fair,” she said, smirking. “But don’t pretend you’re immune. Something about him must’ve worked if he’s got you responding.”

You shrugged, feigning indifference. “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just the media doing what it does best—blowing things out of proportion.”

Maya studied you for a moment, her expression softening. “You’re really into him, aren’t you?”

You nearly choked on your coffee. “What? No. Absolutely not.”

Jess leaned forward, her grin devilish. “You’re blushing.”

“I am not,” you protested, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.

The conversation continued, a whirlwind of teasing and speculation, but you managed to hold your ground, weaving just enough truth into your story to keep them from digging deeper. By the time you left the café, your nerves were frayed, but at least you’d survived the first round of questions.

As you stepped into the cool night air, you couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that this was only the beginning.

The training rink in Columbus carried the usual buzz of pre-game preparation: the slap of pucks against the boards, the hum of skates carving into the ice, and the low murmur of coaches directing drills. But something about the energy felt off. Auston could sense it in the way passes missed by inches and shots rang off the crossbar instead of finding the back of the net.

The Leafs were coming off a high, but the weight of expectations clung to the team like an anchor. By the time practice wrapped up, the locker room was filled with subdued chatter, players trying to shake off the tension as they prepared for the night’s game.

Auston, ever the focal point, felt the weight more than most. Captaincy wasn’t just about leading on the ice—it was about carrying the team’s hopes and shielding them from criticism when things went sideways. And tonight, things went very sideways.

The game was a mess from start to finish. Columbus exploited every crack in the Leafs’ defence, while Toronto’s offense sputtered, unable to capitalise on power plays or momentum. Auston had his moments—a slick assist here, a near-miss there—but it wasn’t enough. By the time the final buzzer sounded, the scoreboard told the story: a 4-1 loss.

Auston’s jaw tightened as he skated off the ice, his grip on his stick like a vice. The locker room was eerily quiet post-game, the usual camaraderie replaced with a heavy silence. Players peeled off their gear in near silence, a few murmuring frustrations under their breath. Auston exchanged a few words with the coaches, but the sting of defeat lingered long after he left the rink.

Back at the hotel, the air in Auston’s room felt heavy—thick with the weight of the night’s loss and the expectations that always seemed to grow louder in defeat. He sat on the edge of the bed, his duffel bag still untouched by the door, scrolling aimlessly through his phone.

Down the hall, his teammates were decompressing in their own ways—some glued to their gaming consoles, others nursing quiet drinks in the lounge—but none of those options appealed to him. Auston’s frustration needed a different outlet.

Without much thought, he opened his DMs, the endless flood of messages a familiar distraction. His name was a magnet, his inbox teeming with invitations, compliments, and the occasional overly bold proposition. One message caught his eye—a familiar face from Columbus. They’d met on a previous trip, a fleeting encounter that left no lasting impression, which was exactly what he needed now.

Auston: “In town for the night. What’s up?”

Her: “Still waiting for you to call. Thought you forgot about me ;)”

Auston: “Never.”

The exchange was simple, transactional, and within the hour, she was knocking on his door.

Auston opened it, leaning casually against the frame. His expression was unreadable, save for the faint smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips. She smiled up at him, dressed to impress—or undress. As always, no pleasantries were exchanged; none were necessary. She stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind her, sealing off the outside world.

It was exactly what Auston needed—a reprieve from the relentless noise in his head. She was eager, uncomplicated, and predictable, offering a distraction that required nothing from him emotionally. He let himself sink into the physicality of it, her hands trailing across his chest as she whispered something flirtatious. But her words barely registered. His thoughts were elsewhere.

They were on the ice, replaying the game in relentless detail: the missed chances, the failed plays, the sting of another loss. They drifted to the media frenzy surrounding his so-called “Mystery Queen” and the elaborate charade he was now orchestrating with you. No matter how much he tried to focus on the present, the weight of everything he was juggling refused to let go.

Still, he allowed her to take the lead, lying back as she straddled him with practiced confidence. The friction, the heat, the rhythm—it was enough to stoke his hardening member. She felt good, but it was a fleeting, surface-level pleasure. The connection was purely physical, and Auston was fine with that.

Her fingers dug into his chest, as she rode him expertly. Auston felt his climax slowly building, her tight cunt wrapped so neatly around his throbbing cock. He didn’t need more than this. Shutting his eyes he could imagine her to be anyone he’d like. His mind wandered as he heard himself let out a moan. She was good to him, picking up her pace as she too chased her own high.

Her moans filled the room, crescendoing as she announced her climax with exaggerated fervour. Auston stayed silent, his body tense beneath her, waiting for the moment to pass. And when she slumped forward, her chest rising and falling against his, he decided to take control in order to reach the rush.

Flipping her onto her back, he moved with renewed intensity, chasing his own release. His hips slammed against hers in a steady, unrelenting rhythm. His fingers clenched the sheets as he gave up holding back. He was merciless. Ruthless. Her cries of his name echoed in his ears, a mantra that boosted his ego but did little to penetrate the hollow space inside him.

And when his climax finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing through him with a force that left him momentarily breathless. His low, guttural grunt filled the air as he spilled into the condom, his movements slowing until they finally stopped.

For a moment, the room was quiet, save for their heavy breathing. She brushed her fingers through his hair, her touch lingering as though she hoped it might spark something deeper. But Auston rolled away, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. The message was clear, though unspoken.

So, within minutes, she was dressed, smoothing her hair and offering a coy smile as she slung her bag over her shoulder. “See you around,” she said lightly, though they both knew she wouldn’t.

“Yeah,” Auston replied, his tone indifferent as he closed the door behind her. The lock clicked, and just like that, she was gone.

He sank back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling as the hollow feeling settled in—a familiar, unwelcome companion. The release had been satisfying enough, but it hadn’t erased the gnawing frustration or the pressure weighing on his shoulders. It never did.

His phone buzzed again, and he glanced at the screen. Notifications flooded in: highlights from the game, speculative articles dissecting the team’s loss, and the ever-present hashtag: #MysteryQueen.

A small, wry smirk tugged at his lips despite himself. The plan was working, and that was something. For all the chaos, for all the noise, the narrative was moving exactly as he’d intended. Now all he had to do was keep it that way.

He set his phone back on the nightstand and let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair. Tomorrow, he’d regroup. Tomorrow, he’d strategise with you, fine-tune the story you were selling. For tonight, survival was enough.

As exhaustion finally crept in, Auston closed his eyes, his thoughts drifting to you once more. You weren’t like the others—too smart, too grounded to fall for someone like him. That was part of the appeal, he realised. You weren’t here for him, not really. And maybe that made you the most intriguing person he’d met in a long time.

But that was a problem for another day. Tonight, all that mattered was that the noise had faded, if only for a moment.

“Oh, Toronto, isn’t it fascinating how our beloved Ice King chooses to thaw? While the Leafs are licking their wounds after a tough night in Columbus, it seems Auston Matthews is sticking to his tried-and-true method of post-game ‘recovery.’ Word on the street—or rather, whispers through the grapevine—suggests that our captain might not be as unavailable as the Mystery Queen narrative wants us to believe. Curious, isn’t it?

But here’s the thing, dear readers—there’s always more beneath the surface. Matthews might play the media like a maestro, but even the best orchestrations can hit a sour note. Will the cracks start to show? Or will our Ice King’s dual life—both on and off the rink—continue to skate by unscathed?

As for his Mystery Queen? One has to wonder how she fits into this symphony of appearances. Is she just another carefully placed pawn in Auston’s game, or is there something more stirring beneath the headlines?

For now, Toronto, we’re left with a tantalising mix of speculation and intrigue. The season is still young, and the drama is only just beginning. - The Benchwarmer”

Wednesday -

Auston tried to enjoy the breakfast with his teammates. A hotel was a part of their routines, yet it never truly felt like home. His phone buzzed relentlessly with notifications, but one headline in particular caught his eye: “The Ice King’s Double Life? Drama Heats Up Around Toronto’s Star Captain and His #MysteryQueen.”

Auston clicked the link and was greeted by The Benchwarmer’s latest post. The commentary was sharp, hinting at cracks in his narrative and questioning whether the supposed romance with you was genuine—or just another fleeting distraction. The subtext was clear: his actions in Columbus hadn’t gone unnoticed.

He let out a groan, running a hand down his face. Reckless, Matthews. Really reckless. Sure, the plan with you was still in its infancy, but if this was going to work, it needed direction—intent. Otherwise, it would just look like every other shallow story he’d been a part of.

He needed to fix this. Fast.

Grabbing his phone, Auston scrolled to your contact—“PR Genius”—and fired off a quick text.

Auston: “Coffee today? We need to strategize.”

You: “Agreed. When and where?”

Auston: “3 PM. A café on Yonge. I’ll message the address later. Bring your game face.”

As the message was sent, Auston stared at the screen for a moment longer. This wasn’t just about keeping the media at bay—it was about keeping you on his side. If this plan unravelled, it would take both of you down with it.

A bit further North, your morning was no less chaotic than Auston’s. Jess, ever the early riser, was already on fire by the time your phone buzzed with the first notification.

Jess (7:15 AM): “HOW DARE HE???”

Maya (7:16 AM): “Is he seriously doing this to you? I’m ready to slash some tires.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly, even as you groaned at their intensity. To them, it was a betrayal of epic proportions. To you, it was just another complication in the tangled web of your arrangement with Auston. But how could they know that? All they saw was a man seemingly toying with your feelings, and as your best friends, they were ready to go to war on your behalf.

You (7:18 AM): “Guys, relax. It’s not like we’re official or anything.”

Maya (7:19 AM): “Not official?! You’re trending as #MysteryQueen, Y/N! That’s practically a royal engagement!”

Jess (7:20 AM): “I swear, if he breaks your heart… bad things will happen!”

You chuckled despite yourself, shaking your head at their over-the-top reactions. It was sweet how protective they were, but you couldn’t let them spiral into full-blown outrage.

You (7:22 AM): “Look, it’s still early. He can do whatever he wants—we haven’t even been on a real date yet.”

The group chat fell silent for a moment, long enough for you to think maybe they’d finally let it go. But Jess’s response proved otherwise.

Jess (7:30 AM): “Fine. But he better get his shit together, or I’m hunting him down.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately, setting your phone down as you leaned back in your chair with a sigh. Jess and Maya were reacting the way anyone would if they thought their friend was being strung along. You couldn’t exactly blame them for jumping to conclusions—it wasn’t like they knew the truth.

Still, it left you with a heavy feeling you couldn’t quite shake. Sure, you weren’t dating Auston—not really. But even you couldn’t ignore how bad it looked. His actions might not have stung personally, but they made everything feel messier, more complicated. You were suddenly questioning whether this whole arrangement was as foolproof as he’d made it seem.

You stared into your half-empty coffee mug, the quiet of your kitchen contrasting sharply with the chaos in your head. By now, the plan you and Auston had agreed on felt more like a house of cards, ready to collapse at the slightest push.

The afternoon coffee with him couldn’t come soon enough. If this ridiculous plan was going to work, you needed to lay everything out on the table and get on the same page—and fast.

The coffee shop was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon when you arrived, your workday still clinging to you in the form of a slight tension in your shoulders. You pushed open the door, letting the comforting aroma of roasted beans and the soft murmur of conversation wash over you. The café was the perfect midpoint between your home and Auston’s—a cosy, unassuming spot where you could blend in without drawing too much attention.

You spotted him immediately, leaning casually against the counter, waiting for his order. He was dressed in dark jeans and a simple hoodie, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. Felix, his ever-loyal best friend, sat patiently by his side, drawing a few admiring glances from other patrons. Auston, as always, looked like he belonged anywhere and nowhere at once, exuding an ease that made people take notice without realising they were doing so.

Auston caught sight of you as the barista handed him his drink. He gave you a quick nod, that trademark smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Hey,” he greeted as you approached. “Long day?”

“You could say that,” you replied, offering a small smile as you ordered your coffee.

As Auston watched you at the counter, his gaze lingered longer than he’d intended. You were dressed in your workday attire—professional yet effortless, like you hadn’t spent a second longer than necessary pulling yourself together. But it was the way you carried yourself that intrigued him. Even with the slight tension in your shoulders, there was a quiet determination in your movements, a resilience that he couldn’t help but notice.

Once you had your drinks, you stepped outside, where Felix immediately perked up, tail wagging enthusiastically. “He’s got more energy than I do,” you said, watching the dog sniff at a nearby patch of grass.

“Good thing he burns it off fast,” Auston replied, handing you Felix’s leash with an easy confidence that caught you off guard. “Here, you take him for a bit.”

“Me?” You stared at the leash, then at Felix, who was now looking at you with expectant eyes.

“Yeah, you,” Auston said, his grin widening. “It’s not that hard. Just don’t let him drag you into traffic.”

You rolled your eyes but took the leash, letting Felix lead the way as the three of you started down the quiet street. Auston glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, amused by the way you held the leash like it might bite you. Despite your initial awkwardness, he had a feeling Felix would win you over in no time.

“You’re stiff,” Auston said after a few moments, his tone casual but observant. “Relax. It’s just a walk.”

“It’s not just a walk,” you muttered, glancing around. “There are probably a dozen people ready to take a picture right now.”

“And what if there are?” He shrugged, taking a sip of his coffee. “That’s kind of the point, isn’t it?”

You huffed but didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong. Still, the weight of being “seen” felt heavier than you’d anticipated.

“You’re overthinking it,” Auston said after a moment. “We’re just two people, walking a dog. Act like it.”

“I’m trying,” you shot back, but the edge in your voice made him smirk.

“Try harder,” he teased.

As Felix tugged you toward a nearby lamppost, Auston found himself studying you again. You didn’t fit the mold of the people who usually surrounded him. There was no pretense, no calculated charm. You were genuine—maybe to a fault, given how uncomfortable you seemed in the spotlight. He found it oddly refreshing.

“He’s really into this whole sniffing thing,” you said, changing the subject as Felix investigated another patch of grass.

“He’s thorough,” Auston said with a chuckle. “Doesn’t miss a single blade of grass.”

The light banter helped ease the awkwardness, and soon, the conversation shifted to more neutral topics. He asked about your day, and to his surprise, you opened up with a candid rundown of your work. You asked him about his travel schedule and the demands of his career, your questions more thoughtful than the usual superficial ones he was used to. And for the first time in a while, he felt like someone was genuinely interested in him, not the player or the famous persona.

“You’re used to it, though, right?” you asked. “The attention?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone almost dismissive. “It comes with the job. You get good at tuning it out.”

“Must be nice,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

He caught it anyway. “You’ll get there,” he said simply.

You raised an eyebrow. “You sound awfully confident.”

He smirked. “Someone has to be.”

The conversation gradually turned more personal as you walked, Felix weaving between the two of you. Auston told you about growing up in Scottsdale, his early days in hockey, and how he adjusted to life in Toronto. In return, you shared snippets of your own life—your family, your job, your goals.

Yet, as you spoke, Auston couldn’t help but notice how you deflected any kind of praise. If he complimented your work ethic, you’d shrug it off. If he mentioned your ambition, you’d redirect the conversation. It was clear you weren’t comfortable taking credit for your own strengths, and that baffled him. In his world, confidence was currency, and yours seemed to be in short supply.

By the time you circled back toward the coffee shop, the awkwardness from earlier had all but evaporated. Felix was panting happily, his energy finally burned off, and you felt a little lighter too.

As you handed the leash back to Auston, he gave you a considering look. “You should come to the game tomorrow.”

“The home game?” you asked, caught off guard.

“Yeah,” he said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re supposed to be my…” He trailed off, his smirk turning playful. “It’ll look good. You know, for the act.”

You hesitated, unsure, but he pressed on. “Come on. VIP seats, good company. What’s there to think about?”

You rolled your eyes but found yourself nodding. “Fine. I’ll be there.”

“Good,” he said, pulling Felix closer as he grinned down at you. “And don’t forget your game face.”

As he walked away, Auston couldn’t help but glance back, his thoughts lingering on you longer than he expected. For all your insecurities, there was something undeniably compelling about you. This arrangement might have started as a strategy, but he was beginning to wonder if it could be something else too.

“Oh, Toronto. What a tangled web our Ice King is weaving. One moment he’s dominating the ice (or, well, trying to), and the next, he’s walking through the city with his Mystery Queen by his side—dog in tow, coffee in hand, and cameras lurking around every corner.

It’s a scene straight out of a romance novel: casual smiles, shared laughs, and the kind of chemistry that can’t be ignored (even if it’s staged, we see you, Matthews). Yet, there’s something undeniably intriguing about this pairing. She’s poised, seemingly unbothered by the chaos surrounding him, and he? Well, let’s just say he doesn’t seem to mind the added spotlight when she’s in the frame.

But don’t get too comfortable, dear readers. There are cracks in every façade, and this one is no exception. The whispers in the hockey world are growing louder, and if there’s one thing we know, it’s that the truth has a funny way of coming to light—especially when the stakes are this high.

So, what’s the endgame here? Is this truly a strategic pairing, or are we witnessing the beginning of something that neither of them saw coming? Whatever the answer, you can bet your last sip of Tim’s coffee that I’ll be here to spill the tea.

Until next time, Toronto. Keep your eyes on the ice—and the streets. The season is young, and this story is just getting started.

Yours always,

The Benchwarmer”

#The Benchwarmer #inexperienced!reader x Auston #auston matthews fanfic #Toronto maple leafs fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl romance #nhl imagines

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graciegoeskrazy · 3 days ago

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and i say do u wanna dance?

(Matty Healy x Daughter!r)

warnings: matty messes up (ugh), queen gab, crying, ballet, some nutcracker references but dw if u know nothing about it it’s fine, bit shorter than I wanted but not short tho (???)

a/n: HEY. WHADUP. IM ALIVE. I think I hate this. Like I could’ve made it better but I also don’t think I could’ve made it better. thank twin for requesting 🫂💌

You never thought you’d be in this big of a production of the Nutcracker, let alone playing Clara. You Dad swears he’s never seen you smile as wide as you did when you found out you got the part. The last nearly 5 months were filled with rehearsals almost every night, preparing for the Nutcracker. School would end and you would rush home, quickly doing your homework before having to get dressed and out the door for rehearsal. Gabi, loved getting you ready. She always joked it’s like she has a little doll to play dress up with now, and she always did your ballet buns better than your dad ever did. Although, he did try his best everytime.

It was all kind of chaotic, and sometimes stressful, but there was nowhere else you’d rather be.

Dance had been your life, and the studio had been your second home. You loved your dance friends so much, and landing the Clara role was proof that your teachers saw progress and potential in you. Everything was going great, and everything you had been working towards was about to be put on display.

You didn’t have nerves, it was all just adrenaline. You remembered the seat numbers Gabi had told you they’d be in - Her, Charli, your Grandmother, and your Father. He kissed you goodbye that very morning, pressing a kiss to your cheek, telling you how excited he was for tonight. Letting you know he would probably have tears in his eyes the second he saw you on stage.

You tried your best to find them in the crowd from the very beginning, but you failed, too worried about keeping your spacing during the opening party scene.

It wasn’t until your solo when you could finally make your way to downstage center and take a good look into their section.

Gabi was there, smiling as wide as possible. Charli and your Grandmother right next to her with proud looks on their faces. But, it was just the three of them.

No Matty. No Dad. No tears. Just an empty seat.

It took everything in you to keep dancing - not to cry and run off stage. He wasn't there, and he said he would. No - he promised.

You took your final bow in line with Marzipan and the Sugar Plum Fairy right on either side of you. It was a weird feeling, all these fantastic, professional dancers, and then there’s little you. It was a moment you should’ve been proud of, but all you could think about was your father, and what his excuse would be this time.

You opened the stage door and were immediately met with your ‘adoring fans’ as Charli put it. You ran to Gabi first thing and she scooped you up into a tight hug. “You were fantastic, y/n! So beautiful!”

You giggled as you hugged her and talked with Charli and Denise, briefly forgetting about your fleeting thought and what was to come.

You said goodbye to your grandmother and aunt and walked back to the car hand in hand with your stepmother.

After a moment, you spoke.

“Do you know where he is?”

She gave you a weak smile, “I called him before the show when he hadn’t gotten here yet. No answer.”

You hummed and she continued. “I called him during intermission too. He said he got caught up in the studio with the boys and completely forgot.”

Her heart broke when she saw your face shift. It wasn’t anger or madness, it was just hurt.

“I told him to not bother anymore.”

You just nodded.

She opened the car door for you and gave you a hand to crawl in the backseat of the car. As soon as she turned the car on her phone started ringing. You could see your dad’s name show up on the car screen. She picked up her phone and answered, “Hello?” She let out a long sigh as she pulled out of the parking lot. “Hi.” You heard low mumbling on the other line, but couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. After a moment, she turned and handed you the phone. “It’s your father, he wants to talk to you.”

You hesitantly took the phone, taking a deep breath before answering. “Hello?” You said, voice even.

“Y/n! Oh my God- Hi, sweet girl. How are you?” He spoke rushed, panicked even.

“I’m fine.” You said, no meaning behind it.

“Yeah? Good, good. Listen to me…I am so sorry baby-”

“I don’t want to talk to you right now-”

He didn’t listen, just kept talking. “I’m on my way home right now. I’ll be there before you know it.”

“I don’t want you home. I don’t want to see you.” You said, eyes starting to fill with tears. “I told you to be here.”

He sighed, “I know sweet girl-”

“Then why weren’t you here?” You asked, lips wobbling and tears, quickly nearing a ten.

“I just caught up with work things, baby. I’m so sorry-”

“It’s always work. It’s always some lazy excuse that’s apparently more important than me.”

He sighed, “Stop it, y/n. You know that’s not true.” He said, voice firm but still gentle.

“It is true. It’s always true. I’m always the last thing you worry about.”

“That’s ridiculous, Y/n.”

“It’s how I feel.” He was silent after that. You scoffed after a moment, “Here’s Mom, I’ll talk to you later.”

“Baby, wait-”

You handed the phone back to Gabi before he could get another word out.

…

You woke the next morning with a headache and a lingering feeling in your chest. All you can remember was crying into Gabi as she put you to bed. She quickly changed you into one of your favorite matching pj sets and grabbed a makeup wipe, trying to get all of your stage makeup off to make sure you didn’t sleep in any. You wrapped your arms around her, burrowing your head into her chest as you cried. She held you like that for a while, even after you fell asleep. Even after she heard the front door open and shut, signalling that Matty had finally gotten home.

When you pried your eyes open you were met with gold rays streaming in from the window. You stayed staring outside for a moment. Thinking. This wasn’t the first time your dad had done something like this, and it made your heart hurt knowing that it probably wouldn't be the last.

He loved you. You knew that. But some days it was hard to remember it.

You heard a knock at your door.

“Hey.” Gabi said, quietly, peeking her head through the door.

You flipped over in bed to face the door, lifting your arm and hand toward her, something you did frequently to signal her over to sit next to you.

She smiles as she walks over. You moved over a little to make more room and she laid down, letting you snuggle into her.

“Daddy’s awake. You wanna go see him?”

You quickly shook your head. “No,” you said.

“He wants to come see your second show tonight-”

“I don’t want him there.” You mumbled into her.

She sighed as she moved her fingers delicately through your hair. “He wants to see you perform, you know? He wants to see all your hard work pay off.”

“He didn’t want to last night?”

Gabi hates situations like these - being caught in the middle. She could never stay mad at Matty, although he made it pretty hard to keep that up after last night. She never wanted to make it seem like she was picking sides whenever something like this happened, even though nine times out of ten she would’ve picked yours.

“I know you’re mad at him, and you have every right to be. He messed up an awful lot yesterday. But, he loves you more than anything. More than he loves me.”

“That’s not true.”

She laughed, “Wanna bet?” Your face twisted in confusion. She settled deeper under the sheets. “When your Daddy and I first started dating, all those years ago, we knew we were in love and knew it was getting pretty serious.” You both adjusted yourselves, now lying on your sides to look at each other. “We had a conversation, the first of many. Will we get married? Have kids? Be an actual couple? All that stuff. But at the end of it, he looked at me seriously, and you want to know what he told me?”

You thought for a moment, but you were already too involved with the story. “What?” You said.

Gabi smiled, “He said, ‘I love you, and I want to love you for the rest of my life, but you have to understand that nothing will compare to the love I have for that little girl.”

She smiled, continuing to run her hands through your hair. You sat for a beat, thinking. You looked up at her wide-eyed, “He really said that?”

She nodded, “Cross my heart…”

You hummed, lying down on your back again, Gabi copying you.

“I know you didn’t ask for it, but everything he does, now and forever, it’s all been for you, Y/n.” She wiped a tear off your face you hadn’t realized had fallen. “He really does love you more than anything in this world, and he’ll probably keep beating himself up until you forgive him.”

You curled into her again, “I’m still mad.”

“Oh, I know. And you have every right to be. Hell, I would be too. You don’t have to forgive him right away, just know that he wants to be with you, and will be there whenever you need it, alright?”

You nodded.

…

The morning light filtered through the kitchen window as you stepped inside, Gabi leading the way. Matty was already there, slouched at the table with a half-empty cup of coffee in front of him. His curls were messy, his eyes tired, but they softened when he saw you.

“Hi, baby. Good morning,” he said, voice warm despite the weight behind it.

“Good morning,” you replied, moving to sit at the counter.

Gabi was already at the stove, glancing back at you. “You want your usual, Y/n?”

“Yes, please.”

“Alright, I’m on it.” She gave you a small smile before turning back to the pan.

Matty leaned forward, watching you. “How’d you sleep?”

You shrugged, pushing your sleeves up. “Fine.”

“Yeah? Not too bad?” he pressed gently.

“Mhm.”

He nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek. There was a pause - one where you didn’t look at him, and he didn’t look away from you. Then, he inhaled sharply.

“Do you think I could come tonight? Go watch you dance?”

Your hand hesitated midair, spoon hovering over your plate.

You thought of last night. Of waiting by the backstage door, your stomach twisted into knots, scanning every unfamiliar face in the crowd, hoping one of them would be him. You thought of slipping off your ballet shoes, the ache in your toes nothing compared to the ache in your chest when you realized - he wasn’t coming.

Before you could answer, he spoke again.

“I know I messed up, Y/n. And messed up bad. But you have to know the last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you.”

You stared at your plate, lips pressed together. He sounded so small, like he wasn’t sure if he even deserved to ask.

“I am so, so, so sorry, Y/n.”

You let out a slow breath, glancing up at him. His hands were folded tightly together, his shoulders hunched like he was bracing for you to shut him out completely.

“You can come tonight.”

Matty’s head snapped up, eyes searching yours.

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

He exhaled a laugh, almost in disbelief. “Thank you, baby.”

And later that night, when the curtains parted and the music swelled, he sat in the audience with tears slipping down his face.

Because he was right.

He cried the moment he saw you on stage.

#the 1975 #x daughter!reader #matty healy #matty healy x daughter!reader #matty healy x reader #matty the 1975 #matty x reader

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just-a-cup-of-anxietea · 8 months ago

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Tagged by @daydreaming-optimist and @courageisneverforgotten aka Elle Woods and Robin Buckley respectively (per my last check of their polls). Thank you for the tag, friends! 💕

Rules: put 4 of your favorite characters from 4 pieces of media as options, then let your tumblr friends decide which one most suits your vibe! Then tag 4 people :)

No pressure tagging: @cris080799 @obesecamels @its-me-satine @willowstea @senatorhotcheeto @noa-the-physicist @theskittlemuffin @captaindelilahbard @batmanmaybe @nigellica @rotateafroginyourmind @oh-toasty @permanentreverie and anyone else who wants to!

#tag game #tagged #which character #I truly and genuinely don’t know how I am Perceived #so this’ll be interesting #I tried to pick characters that speak to different parts of my life #get a good distribution in the pool #I think it just comes off as chaotic but it’s fine #characters #see also: Karana (Island of the Blue Dolphins)#Reagan Ridley (Inside Job)#Mark Watney (The Martian)#Rachel Dare (PJO)#Jane Porter (Tarzan)#I have a whole list of these you see. I am so fine and normal about Characters in Media

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geneviveleocardius · 1 month ago

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crying over movies

and pregnant with simon riley’s baby

the sound of your sobs cuts through the quiet of the house, sharp and raw. simon drops the knife he’s been using to chop vegetables, his heart lurching in his chest. it’s not unusual for you to cry these days—pregnancy hormones have been working overtime—but this… this is different. this is gut-wrenching, the kind of crying that makes his pulse race with worry.

he rushes into the living room, where he left you curled up on the couch watching after sun. the sight that greets him stops him in his tracks. you’re a mess, your face red and blotchy, tears streaming down your cheeks, big eyes wide and glassy as you clutch a pillow like it’s the only thing tethering you to reality.

“love?” his voice is low, calm despite the panic clawing at his chest. he crouches in front of you, his hands reaching out to cradle your face. “what’s wrong? is it the baby? are you in pain?”

you shake your head frantically, your sobs hitching as you try to speak. “n-no, it’s not—” a deep breath, and then another sob escapes. “it’s not the baby. it’s—oh my god, simon, it’s just—”

he watches you, his brows furrowed, utterly baffled. “just what?”

“the movie!” you wail, throwing your arms up dramatically. “it was so sad, simon! and—and then i started thinking about us and the baby and—and—oh my god, you’re never gonna be a single parent, okay? i’m never leaving you!”

his eyes widen at the declaration, and he blinks, stunned. “what tha—?”

“and you have to promise me, simon,” you cut him off, your voice shaky but insistent. “if something’s ever bothering you, you’re gonna tell me, right? we’re a team, and i love you so damn much, okay? you can’t ever leave me, because i’d just—” a hiccup. “i’d die without you!”

he stares at you, his lips parted slightly, trying to process the flood of emotions pouring out of you. he’s used to your mood swings by now—the tears over burnt toast, the laughter that turned into crying because of a stupid dog video—but this? this is a whole new level.

you’re still sobbing, your breaths coming in hiccupping gasps, and his heart aches in a way he doesn’t quite understand. “love, you’re gonna hyperventilate,” he mutters, sitting beside you and pulling you into his arms. you melt into him instantly, your hands clutching at his shirt as you bury your face against his chest.

“i mean it, simon,” you mumble, your voice muffled by his shirt. “i’ll never leave you. you’re stuck with me forever.”

he lets out a low chuckle, the sound rumbling through his chest. “bloody hell, i should hope so. wouldn’t have married you otherwise, yeah?”

“and the baby,” you continue, ignoring his attempt to lighten the mood. “we’re gonna be the best parents, and—and if you ever think i’m not doing enough, you have to tell me, okay? i’ll do better. i swear.”

“sweetheart,” he says softly, leaning back so he can tilt your face up to look at him. your tear-streaked cheeks and swollen eyes might look like a disaster to anyone else, but to him, you’re still the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “you’re more than enough. you’re everything. and you’re not going anywhere, yeah? we’re fine. we’re better than fine.”

your lower lip trembles, and more tears spill over. “i just—i love you so damn much, simon. you can’t ever leave me. promise me.”

he exhales, a soft huff of disbelief, before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “you’re unbelievable, you know that?” he mutters against your skin. “but alright. i promise. i’m not going anywhere, and neither are you. happy?”

you nod, sniffling, and wrap your arms tighter around him. “so happy.”

he holds you close, his large hands rubbing slow circles on your back as your sobs gradually quiet into soft hiccups. he’s still not entirely sure how you got from a movie to this existential meltdown, but one thing’s for sure: he wouldn’t trade this chaotic, hormonal, beautiful mess for anything.

#simon ghost riley #cod modern warfare #modern warfare #simon riley x reader #cod #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader #ghost riley #ghost x reader #pregnancy #aftersun

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silknspice · 28 days ago

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hockey!vi and basketball!caitlyn decide it's time to stop fighting over you. they'll just have to share!

headcanons, arguing, smut/slutty material (18+ mdni), dom!cait & vi, gp!vi, cheerleader!reader (hardly mentioned), vi & cait r horny and reader's hard-to-get-but-also-horny. wc. 2k

vi's a big, bulky, 'gentleman' of a player. girls come and go from her poster-covered dorm room, and it's fine, because she has bigger things to worry about, until she meets you. the post-game crowd is a chaotic swarm of students, and still, she spots you with ease. you're with a friend that she somewhat recognizes, but the athlete swears on her life she's never seen you. she would've remembered a pretty ass face like that. the two of you are making conversation with one of her teammates, and almost immediately the pinkette's jogging up to the cluster of you and slinging an arm over the other player.

she's decorated with a big fat grin like always, cooing a sexy "hey there," that has her teammate rolling her eyes into the back of her head, but not the way vi intended. you're introduced, a sweet smile gracing your lips that vi wants buried between the flesh of her thighs, lips that she wants gasping for life as she ravishes you, lips that she swears just made her cock twitch.

"you gonna be looking for me at the after party?" she cocks her head in fake innocence. what an asshole. "maybe if you score some more next time," you dismiss her with a tucked away grin, politely biding her teammate and spinning off out of the dumbfounded butch's sight. her teammate sharply inhales, patting the girl who looks like she's just seen a ghost. "tough luck, vi," the athlete starts, "wouldn't have worked anyway, i heard she's messing with kiramman."

caitlyn won the race to your attention. it's one of the many things she adores holding over vi's head when they have their daily bicker-fests over anything and everything related to you. she’d always believed in finders keepers.

the bustling, alcohol scented, dim atmosphere encasing her is completely forgotten as her gaze lands on you, a red solo cup in hand as you make conversation with who she assumes to be your teammates. she squares her shoulders, standing a little taller as her fellow athletes notice the look she's giving you. a predator ready to pounce. little whistles of encouragement fall from their lips as she strides on her mission to you.

the navy haired beauty knows she's hot, knows damn well anyone would slide their way under her as soon as the words of approval coat her tongue, and knows that you'll be one of her most– no, the most rewarding catch she's had. except, her trap seemed to falter.

"you were great today," she flashes a soft smile, attempting to make sure the way she checks you out is subtle, less cocky and more in awe. "watched when i could, i see why they put you in front." "oh yeah?" you hum out, sipping from your cup. it's basic, not giving much for caitlyn to work with, but the glint in your eyes is giving the athlete all too much hope. "yeah," she sounds a little breathless. her eyelids drop and soften to mimick the arousal she's feeling from just eyeing your fuckable face. "must be real flexible to do all that. think you could show me some more?" her prim and enchanting accent is completely contradicting the nasty insinuations falling from her mouth. that has you gently shaking your head and scoffing– albeit, with a smile, caitlyn notes. "you're funny, cait." and that's all you leave her with. that, and the image of you gently swaying your hips while walking off. the image that she'll be replaying in her head as she tends to her needs later that night. it makes sense to her a few days later during practice. when she and her teammates are lazily walking off of the court, one of them explains your oh so suspicious behavior. "heard she's interested in vi. sorry hotshot, looks like you've met your match."

from then on, the two are completely at each other's throats. it starts off small when they bump into each other at the campus coffee shop. they're patiently waiting for their drinks. caitlyn's arms are crossed as always with her hair in a messy pony, and vi's hands keep refuge in her pockets while her shoulders slightly slouch in a relaxed manner. they're completely ignoring the other's presence, until vi physically has to speak up.

"so... ___" she says your name like a child praying to their goddess. caitlyn hums in response. "i hate to be the one to tell you, but she's completely out of your league." "well i don't know what she'd see in a narcissistic mongoose like you," vi quips. cait scoffs. "and i'm not sure why she'd ever give someone as run through as you the time of day... wait, mongoose?"

soon, it's not one that's pursuing you at a time, it's both. at parties, after games, walking to class, even in the library, the two girls are drawn to you like moths to light. and sure, they're still very interested in fucking you senseless if you let them. and sure, they don't know you all too well yet, but something about you is so captivating. whether you'll give them the time of day or not, they crave being in your presence. (the rivalry is making things a little more fun than expected, too.)

you're interested, extremely interested. but these girls are used to getting everything they want in the blink of an eye. you know your worth, so if they want to take you, and not just your ability to walk, they're going to have to work for it. in record time, the university of piltover's finest were wrapped around your dainty finger. so, slowly, you let them into your life.

at first, it's smaller things. in the morning, caitlyn worms her way into the plush seat next to you at your library table. she sets down your coffee order to a T, saying she "had some extra time" (which isn't a lie, she woke up an hour earlier than she already does to make sure her timing was perfect), and she "didn't know what you'd like", so she 'guessed' (that part was a lie, because she fell asleep thirty minutes later than usual stalking your instagram highlights and zooming into the label of your most recent drink). in conclusion, the star player was losing sleep over you, and she didn't know how to feel about that.

then, like switching shifts, vi swoops into the library and whisks you away, but not before making a remark that has the navy-haired girl's brows furrowing.

"i'll take it from here, cupcake. angel and i have a date." the pinkette lifts your backpack from the ground and slings it over her shoulder before you can utter a word. "you're walking me to class, violet. 'ts not a date..." you dismiss the claim, looking caitlyn in the eyes as you bring the coffee to your lips and take a swig. "..yet," you induce some hope and fear into the respective girls. as you coo your mind-twirling sing-song "bye cait," and walk away, vi can't help but snake a hand around your waist before throwing a terribly taunting wink to the bluenette over her shoulder.

eventually, after more interrupted touches and argument after argument, the girls attempt to seduce you on their own turf. after a particularly hard but victorious game, cait jogs up to you. the flyaways of her ponytail are the sexiest amount of messy and the sweat dripping down the side of her neck and rounding towards her adams apple has you gulping. but of course, you hide it. you admit, she's impressed you, and the seemingly suave girl fights the beaming smile she feels sneaking its way onto her face. instead, she thanks you for cheering for her and gently grazes her hand over the hem of your blue and white skirt.

"is this my reward for playing so well?" she grins. "this is my uniform, hotshot."

after vi's hockey game that she insisted you come to, she sneaks up on you after exiting the locker room, capturing your frame from behind with sculpted arms. the two of you stiffle a few laughs before she turns you around, pulling your torso closer to hers.

"how'd I do?" she asks, the neediness of approval hidden somewhere in her tone.

"i guess you were good," you joke, making vi gently pinch at your side. "yeah?" she teases, "how good?" "not good enough, at least I score." caitlyn buts in from 'out of nowhere!' (vi claims), momentarily stunning whatever tension you and the pinkette were building. "i scored three times," the powder-blue eyed girl slightly pouts, sending you into a fit of laughter.

it's vi who steals a kiss from you first. you finally give in after realizing maybe she wants something a little more than sex. it's hungry, slight teeth, lots of tongue, and sloppy hums of pleasure. wandering hands travel to the back of your head, through your hair, down to the curve of your waist, everywhere she can claim you.

caitlyn, when she finds out a day later, is pissed. so when she finally gets her hands on you, she's rougher than she planned on being when she ran this scenario through her head hundreds of times before. she's pushing you against a wall, knee slotted between your legs, and a lanky hand trails up to grip your chin. it's rough, hypnotizing, and you have to stop her before she makes an absolute mess of you.

it's no surprise when the girls text you to meet up a few days later. what is a surprise is the fact that they're together. they send you a selfie from vi's phone in your shared group chat. vi looks delicious in her stupid backwards baseball cap and caitlyn's glasses only enhance that scarily sexy cold look she owns. the picture's lazy, a lower angle of the two looking at the camera with soft grins, but it has your heartbeat racing, and something else pulsing their names.

ice queen: angel come 2 cait's ice queen: we miss you <3 angel: and if I don't? hotshot: you'll regret it. angel: is that a threat? hotshot: jesus, get over here.

caitlyn and vi take turns using you for the rest of the night. they wait for you to make the first move, of course, they have manners. once you're all hot and bothered you hear the clank of their belts coming undone and flashes of clothes being stripped off fill your vision.

cait only spends so long teasing your swollen clit before she's two fingers and three knuckles deep inside of you, teasing your clouded brain about adding a third. the wet sounds your body's making are getting vi the hardest she's been in her life, and she swears she could cum just from the way your glossy eyes look up at her while cait ravishes you. "look at that- i'll be the one to make her cum first." cait taunts, and as soon as you've reached your high the pinkette's stripping you away from her and flipping you onto your stomach.

vi's gentler than caitlyn at first, but her passion and desires enchant her mind and soon she's stuffing your needy hole with her length, face down ass up, while pushing your head into the pillow that captures your lovely noises.

it's not long before caitlyn's sitting in front of you with her legs spread wide, guiding your tongue right where it belongs.

you all sleep in the same bed that night. you in the middle, of course, and your girls clinging to you lovingly. the three of you talk about everything and nothing at the same time, and the silly conversations lull you into a deep sleep.

some day soon, you'll have to talk about whatever this is. for right now, vi and caitlyn relish in the fact that they have you. brain, heart, body and all.

sharing isn't all that bad.

silknspice

#vi x reader #caitlyn x reader #vi fanfic #arcane #arcane fanfic #arcane season 2 #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn arcane #caitvi x reader #vi arcane #caitlyn fanfic #sapphic #wlw #vi imagines #arcane headcanon

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orangeblossomsintheair · 2 months ago

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ARMS | CS55

u wake up with his arm around you. that’s the plot i fear

the first thing you noticed when you woke up was the heat. it wrapped around you like a blanket, thick and stifling, and you groaned softly, shifting against the sheets as you tried to find a more comfortable position.

but then you stopped. because something wasn’t right.

you opened your eyes, squinting against the soft morning light filtering through the curtains, and immediately found the culprit: carlos’s arm. his bicep, to be exact, and it was... right there. practically in your face.

you blinked, momentarily confused by your predicament, until reality hit.

sometime during the night, your fiancé had flung his arm over you and kept it there. and now it was resting just above your head, caging you in completely.

“oh, come on,” you muttered, half-exasperated and half-amused. you turned your head slightly, trying to shift away, but all that accomplished was pressing your cheek closer to the ridiculous mountain of muscle.

you huffed softly, lifting a hand to push at his arm but couldn’t help the incredulous laugh that bubbled out of you.

his muscles, even in complete relaxation, were ridiculous, thick and defined, warm under your touch. you poked him lightly, muttering, “what are you, a steel bar?”

tilting your head back, you glanced at him.

he was sprawled on his back, taking up most of the bed, his curls a chaotic mess against the pillow. his lips were parted, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm, completely unaware of how obnoxious he was being.

“carlos,” you tried, your voice a sleepy grumble.

he didn’t move. of course, he didn’t.

you huffed softly, lifting a hand to push at his arm, but your fingers froze midair. because now that you were looking at it, at him, it was hard not to take in how unfairly beautiful he was.

your attempt to be annoyed crumbled instantly as you took him in. his jawline, dusted with faint scruff, caught the light just right and the freckles that decorated his cheeks were like a sprinkle of stardust. the warmth radiating off him was a comfort, even in the heat of midday summer.

you groaned again, quieter this time, because as much as you wanted to complain, the warmth and sheer solidity of him felt stupidly nice.

you rolled your eyes at yourself, trying to shake off the distraction.

“carlos..” you said again, louder this time, shoving at his arm for emphasis. he shifted slightly, a low hum rumbling in his chest, but his arm stayed firmly in place. If anything, it moved closer, the curve of his bicep now brushing against your forehead.

after a moment, you sighed in exasperation.

fine. if he wouldn’t wake up, you’d have to get creative.

without thinking, you tilted your head and in one swift motion, sank your teeth into his arm, the pressure firm but not painful, just enough to make your point.

he jerked awake instantly, a sharp inhale breaking the quiet. “Dios mío, what-” His voice was rough, accent thicker and gravelly with sleep, as he shot you a bleary-eyed look.

“good morning,” you said sweetly, even as you glared at him.

carlos blinked down at you, his arm still hovering near your face. his confusion melted into something amused, his lips curving into a lazy smirk. “did you just.. bite me?”

“you gave me no choice,” you shot back, shoving his arm off you. “you were suffocating me with your bicep.”

he chuckled as he stretched out beside you, clearly unbothered. “you could’ve just moved me.”

“i tried,” you said, glaring at him. “you’re like a human rock.”

carlos grinned, leaning closer until his face was inches from yours. “admit it, you like it.”

you rolled your eyes, though your cheeks warmed under his teasing gaze. “next time, I’m biting harder.”

he laughed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you back against him before you could protest. “mm.. don’t threaten me with a good time, baby..”

you blinked at him, feeling heat rise in your cheeks. “excuse me?”

"yeah," he drawled. "biting, maybe it’s my thing now. maybe I should look into it, explore this side of me…"

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "you’re impossible," you muttered, but the edge of annoyance had faded, replaced by the warmth of his teasing.

carlos’s smile softened as he pulled you closer, his hand sliding into your hair, and his breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “i should pin you down more.. give you an incentive.”

you huffed out a laugh, poking him in the chest, “is this a territorial thing? you like being claimed?”

he shrugged, looking far too pleased with himself. "you never know, cariño. it could be our thing now."

before you could respond, he kissed the tip of your nose, cutting off any retort you might’ve had. And for a second, as you melted into his arms, it seemed like maybe this was your thing now.

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz x reader #formula one x reader #formula 1 #formula one #x reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz jr x you #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz jr x reader

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adieutristana · 2 months ago

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getting married headcanons / arcane women x fem! reader

the thought of marriage and weddings have been on my mind for weeks now and i’m not sure why, but i’m a sap like that. i also haven’t been able to find many fics in the arcane tags about marriage so i figured i’d write my own :)

i’m getting to requests as quickly as possible! my first final is this friday and i’m kinda freaking out. things should speed up once im on winter break!

summary: headcanons of what it would be like marrying arcane characters.

characters included: jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn.

tags/warnings: fluff. SO much fluff. mentions of (happy) crying, mentions of drinking, s2 spoilers / mentions of death (caitlyn), slight hurt/comfort

men dni.

jinx;

✧.* you had spoken of marriage before, and every time you did, jinx became incredibly emotional. the girl had never seen marriage as something in the cards for her. a master criminal, a symbol, a living martyr? sure. but never a wife. so when you brought up the fact that you one day wanted to marry her, she was inconsolable in the best way possible.

✧.* to think that someone loved her enough to want to marry her, to want to spend the rest of their life by her side was unreal. she never thought she would have that.

✧.* so naturally, when you got down on one knee in front of jinx and opened a velvet box, presenting her with a shining diamond- jinx was in hysterics. she immediately broke into a fit of tears. blubbering, she nodded frantically, shakily taking your hands in hers. you felt a few tears of your own fall from your eyes as you slipped the ring onto her finger.

✧.* "yes, yes, yes- oh god, yes, i want to marry you. are you sure, though? i mean... will i make a good wife? are you sure you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody like me?"

✧.* "yes, jinx. i want all of it. all of the chaos, all of the mischief and adventure. all of you."

✧.* jinx immediately makes it a point to show off her brand-new, shiny ring to absolutely everyone. she’s engaged now, and she’s gonna make it everybody’s problem. she would go into sevika’s usual spot- a local casino just to track her down and shove her hand in her face. sevika would just raise an eyebrow, and look back up at jinx. seemingly unamused.

✧.* “i’m a fiancée now! see?”

✧.* “i can see that.”

✧.* “you can at least act like you’re excited for me!”

✧.* jinx’s favorite part of being engaged is probably planning the wedding. she makes almost all of the decorations herself- centerpieces, messy tablecloths, colorful banners. they’re crude and chaotic, but they’re jinx.

✧.* you do manage to talk her into letting a friend make flower arrangements and cater, though.

✧.* while jinx wants to look nice for her big day, she doesn’t really put that much thought into what she wears, instead wanting to hear your input. if you want her to wear a suit, she’ll do so! if you’d rather see her in a dress, fine by her. however, i can’t see her in an extravagant wedding gown… probably something simple.

✧.* she does insist on wearing her hair in a single braid, though.

✧.* jinx wants a small wedding, at a local empty hall she can decorate however she pleases. close friends and (your) family are the only guests welcomed.

✧.* when the day of the wedding comes, jinx is both ecstatic and a nervous wreck. a million thoughts are swirling through her mind, whispering to her from every angle. what if you leave her at the altar? what if you get cold feet? but the fact that you are there, she knows you’re here for the long haul, is what grounds jinx.

✧.* jinx somehow convinced vi to walk her down the aisle.

✧.* it actually wasn’t hard at all, she’s just exaggerating. despite the strains and tainted history between the two, vi wouldn’t miss the chance to see her little sister get married for anything in the world.

✧.* when she walks down the aisle, she’s the first one at the altar. twiddling with her thumbs, eyes darting around the hall.

✧.* when she finally sees you being walked down, though, jinx isn’t able to hold back her tears. it starts out small, then a dam breaks. you just look so beautiful.

✧.* it comes time for the reading of vows, and jinx’s voice is trembling. bless her, she’s sniffling and trying through shaking hands to unfold the paper.

✧.* “i’m not good with words, you know this. i never have been. but you make it so easy. i’ve never felt more like myself with someone, never felt so loved and cared for. i still wonder why you chose to marry someone so chaotic, a ‘master criminal,’ as the pilties put it. but i can’t explain how grateful i am. you love me for everything that i am, and everything i’m not. it’s you and me, always. i love you.”

✧.* after exchanging rings, jinx is practically pouncing on you to close the distance between you. the exact moment the officiant says ‘you may now kiss.’

✧.* jinx is completely different during the reception. the music selection is so perfectly her, but also so you. she’s (horribly) dancing, tugging your wrists to invite you to dance with her. whooping and singing along to the music. this is the happiest you’ve ever seen jinx. your wife.

vi;

✧.* vi is also someone who never saw herself getting married, honest. she had a prison wife at one point, but that was just to get her through each grueling hour at stillwater. the girl never saw herself being married for real. until she met you.

✧.* she first began calling you her wife playfully. vi is a sucker for pet names, isn’t she?

✧.* “i’m home! how’s my wife doing? i didn’t keep ya waiting long, did i?”

✧.* but the more she called you her wife, and the more positive your reactions to the nickname became, it dawned on her that she actually could see herself marrying you. that option had just never clicked in her mind.

✧.* the two of you never properly talked about marriage per se, but it was silently agreed that it was a possibility.

✧.* however, it still caught you completely off guard when vi proposed to you.

✧.* it was in the middle of a field, which already struck you as odd. vi wasn’t one to go exploring in nature typically, but she said she wanted to see the stars with you, so you didn’t ask any questions.

✧.* you’re side-by-side with vi on a shared blanket, while your girlfriend uses her finger to point out each constellation. she’s wrong about the name of the majority, but you don’t have the heart to tell her that. she’s just too cute.

✧.* however, at the end of the night, when you’re occupied with folding the blanket, you glance over your shoulder to see vi on one knee. your hand claps over your mouth and the blanket falls onto the ground.

✧.* “(y/n), i love you. you know this. i tell you every day. but we’ve been together for a while now… and i think i’m ready to take the next step. i call you my wife anyways, why not make it official?”

✧.* with tears welling in your eyes, you nod again and again. hands covering your mouth and one shakily stretching to let vi slip the ring onto your finger.

✧.* it’s a simple ring; a silver band with a rectangular alexandrite in the center. but you can tell from the shine that vi had been saving for this purchase for a while.

✧.* vi wanted to get a ring worthy of you. a ring that showcased her endless devotion to you, and damn, she did a good job hiding the ring as long as she did.

✧.* vi doesn’t waste any time when it comes to planning. she wants a small wedding, but still intimate and romantic.

✧.* almost everything is done by the two of you, with minimal help from jinx. vi does centerpieces, invitations, and the music, while you take care of the catering, flower arrangements, and guest planning.

✧.* jinx likely just makes a few light coverings to give the illusions of different colored lights during the reception.

✧.* your girlfriend fiancée wears a tailored black suit, with a maroon vest and tie. she put a lot into being able to rent it, so she wants to make sure she looks perfect for her soon-to-be wife!

✧.* the day of the ceremony finally arrives. vi is nervous, but she does her best to keep herself grounded. it isn’t until she’s stood at the altar waiting for her bride that anxiety truly sets in.

✧.* yet, all of that anxiety melts the instant she sees you walking down the aisle. your eyes light and full of adoration, only for her. the smile on your face is enough to light up the entire universe on its own.

✧.* it’s then, when she takes your hand as you step up to the altar, that she begins to feel tears pricking at her eyes.

✧.* vi has her vows memorized. she made a habit of reading them aloud every night at least twenty times, over and over again. but she still manages to stumble over her words; something you can’t help but giggle to.

✧.* “my love for you has always been clear. since the day i met you, you’ve never left my mind, or my side. i love all of your cute habits, all of the things you think i don’t notice, the sound of your voice, your smile, those eyes… i love all of you. i promise to love you now, and forever. you complete me.”

✧.* vi is fully crying by the time she finally gets to cup your cheeks and press her lips to yours, holding the kiss longer than she probably should. but she just can’t help herself. you’re her wife now.

✧.* she doesn’t get shitfaced during the reception, but your wife is definitely pretty drunk on the dance floor. busting out moves you didn’t even know she had.

✧.* she feels free to let loose now, have fun, with you by her side. dancing with her. singing along to the music without a care in the world.

mel;

✧.* with mel, marriage wasn’t really a conversation the two of you had, instead, it was a given from the beginning.

✧.* mel takes relationships very seriously and sees anything casual as a waste of her precious time. marriage is the end goal when mel gets into any relationship, so it wouldn’t be any different for you. she loves you, and you love her, the natural thing to do is to get married.

✧.* however, she is a patient woman and willing to wait for whenever you’re ready to commit to marriage. she is busy after all, she can wait as long as needed.

✧.* when you finally are at a place in your life- financially, mentally, emotionally, to be able to comfortably get married, mel wastes no time proposing to you.

✧.* you figured it would be the other way around, and actually did begin window-shopping for a general idea of what ring you’d purchase for your girlfriend.

✧.* but mel has a way of knowing things, and she tells you that she’ll buy it.

✧.* “i know you’ve been browsing around, here and there for a ring. be patient. i’ll handle that, okay?”

✧.* when mel proposes, it’s in a small, intimate space in her home. the woman goes to plenty of galas and parties as a councilwoman, but she wants this moment to be only between her and her girlfriend.

✧.* warm candlelight fills the room, the scent of peonies and baby’s breath subtle. you’re unsure of what’s going on for such decorations- was there a holiday that you forgot? your anniversary wasn’t for another few months, so surely-

✧.* a soft voice from behind you pulls you back to reality. the sight of mel, on one knee, holding open a violet velvet box.

✧.* “my dearest. i know i tell you regularly, and i know you’re aware, but i love you. i love you more than life itself, and i want nothing more than to make the next commitment to you. i need to marry you, (y/n).”

✧.* and god, the ring itself. the stone is practically a boulder. it’s a gold band with a cluster of diamonds framing one big diamond in the middle. yes, mel is the most wealthy woman in piltover, but she’s truly outdone herself.

✧.* you’re in tears, mumbling out choked ‘yes’s as your now-fiancée beams. she takes extra care, gently slipping the ring onto your finger. letting you know just how beautiful it looks on you.

✧.* as much as mel would love to be thoroughly involved in planning the wedding, duty calls. so you have creative liberty- she trusts you. she also does hire a professional wedding planner to get most of the difficult work done. the last thing mel would want is you worrying your pretty head before marrying her.

✧.* a grand hall, with gold interior, fountains, high ceilings and glass chandeliers was selected for your wedding. a place which many former high-ranking members of piltover’s society have been married in years prior.

✧.* as for a dress, mel chooses a grand, white gown. silk with lace trimmings, and a cathedral-length veil. she doesn’t mind what you wear, the only thing that matters to her is your comfort.

✧.* naturally, the majority of piltover is invited to the wedding. it’s not every day that the most high-ranking woman in your city gets married.

✧.* the day of the wedding comes. mel is an expert when it comes to keeping herself calm on the outside; stoic and poised. but internally, she’s a mess.

✧.* mel medarda, getting married? it’s always been something she’s wanted, but now that it’s happening, it’s hitting her what she’s about to do. yet, that makes it so much more exciting.

✧.* her worry is more about what how she’ll be perceived by the public, and presenting a much more vulnerable side of herself.

✧.* when mel walks down the aisle, bouquet in hand, orchestra plucking strings, she’s taking deep breaths to ground herself. this is really happening.

✧.* she sees you walk toward the altar, and she immediately has to close her eyes. only for a second. you look absolutely divine- it’s overwhelming. so many emotions: love, adoration, gratitude, all swirling in mel’s chest.

✧.* mel has her vows memorized. she’s always had a good memory, but she can’t stop her voice from cracking and breaking every few words. the moment is just all-consuming.

✧.* “my love for you is eternal. it always has been, and it always will be. to be stood before all of piltover, making this promise to you is an opportunity i am honored to have. i promise to fiercely love you for as long as you will allow me to, and as long as you will love me. (y/n). my love, my light, and now my wife.”

✧.* she has to wipe away a few stray tears from her face afterward, but she giggles and tightly embraces you. just before brushing your lips with hers, a moment she wishes she could stay in forever.

✧.* the reception is refined and calm. although others may be getting a bit tipsy, mel would much rather slow-dance with you on the floor. stand beside the cake, champagne in hand, just admiring you for all that you are. she swears you’ve never looked more beautiful.

sevika;

✧.* sevika has never given marriage a second thought. for other girls? sure, but never her. she had a job to do, a city to protect, and that was her priority.

✧.* until you in passing mentioned being old and married in jest. that statement hit sevika like a bag of bricks.

✧.* trying to lay her head down to rest, your voice plays on a loop in sevika’s head. being old and married. married. married to each other.

✧.* she simply can’t shake the thought. again, she had never given marriage a second thought, but sevika could truly see herself marrying you. that was how loyal and devoted she was to you, how much she loved you.

✧.* sevika doesn’t mention it, though. that’s the kind of woman she is, isn’t it? moving in silence, but with intention nonetheless.

✧.* however, one day, sevika slips out of your shared home to take care of ‘business.’

✧.* “be back soon, love. i won’t be long. -sevika”, reads a note left on your dresser.

✧.* where sevika is actually going is to a metal smith in zaun, a humble craftsman in a shared space with various other artists. she wants your ring to be perfectly you, and she wants your ring to be one that nobody else possesses. so custom-made is the only option.

✧.* a thick silver band with an amethyst in the center, and engravings on the inside. it takes about two weeks to finish, with sevika checking in about twice every week in the wee hours of the morning. this is one of the most important projects she’s ever overseen.

✧.* once she finally gets it, sevika will not let go of the ring box. a heavy maple wood box housing the most important possession she has, soon to be yours.

✧.* of course, sevika fiddling with her left pocket doesn’t go unnoticed by you. but she brushes it off, tells you that she wasn’t sure if she left something in there from the day before.

✧.* her proposal is spontaneous. she tries to plan it, but she simply cannot wait any longer. she takes the ring box out of her pocket, presenting it to you and slowly opening it.

✧.* “i don’t… i don’t do this stuff. i don’t know how to, i’m sorry. but i… i love you, and i can’t stop thinking about what you said before. about being old and married. i want that, with you.”

✧.* it’s so rare that sevika is completely unguarded, even in private. she’s a soft lover, but you can tell that right now, all of her walls are down. poor woman, she’s even shaking.

✧.* you just grab her hand, a stray tear falling down your cheek, and whisper, “yes.”

✧.* sevika has no idea where to start when it comes to wedding planning (or event planning to begin with.) so you take on most of the responsibility for planning, occasionally enlisting help from friends.

✧.* of course, sevika is still very involved in terms of observing and helping you make decisions.

✧.* you choose a small hall, enough to hold a handful of guests. sevika doesn’t have many people to invite, granted, but there needs to be enough room for her playing mates at the casino, jinx, and your guests.

✧.* your fiancée chooses a dusty plum suit, tailored to her body and the smallest golden hoops in her ears. (you didn’t even know she had her ears pierced until the day of the wedding.)

✧.* the day comes, and sevika sees you walking down the aisle. she stares at you in nothing short of awe, pure joy. her mouth hangs open.

✧.* when you finally step up to meet her at the altar, it takes everything in the woman to not simply whisk you away then and there. patience, sevika, she tells herself.

✧.* she has her vows written down, despite trying to memorize them. she’s just filled with too many emotions. nerves, mostly.

✧.* “standing here now, i realize more than ever how much i love you. you’ve brought something to my life i never thought i’d feel: unconditional, unwavering love. i don’t know how you do it, but you make every day better than the last. you’ve gotten through to my heart. i swear to love you, to be loyal to you, and to protect you.”

✧.* she doesn’t even wait for the officiant to say that you may kiss, she’s immediately closing the distance between you as soon as you finish exchanging vows, kissing her wife again, and again, and again.

✧.* sevika doesn’t do much during the reception, mostly drinking little sips of whine and gazing at you with that longing expression you’ve come to know. if you try to drag her out onto the floor to dance with you, she’ll playfully groan and roll her eyes. but you know she loves it. she loves you.

✧.* “come on, sev, dance with me!”

✧.* “i don’t dance.”

✧.* “well, you do now!”

caitlyn;

✧.* the topic of marriage is a difficult one for caitlyn. as a member of one of the highest-ranking houses in piltover, it’s an expectation that she will one day marry. not necessarily from her parents, but from piltover and tradition.

✧.* honestly, she was indifferent. if she found someone she’d like to marry, great. but if not, she wasn’t going to hold her breath or beat herself up over it.

✧.* when you came into her life, caitlyn could feel her perception of marriage slowly changing. it was still indifferent at best, but she now understood why marriage was so common. why it was a thing, even. her love for you grew stronger by the day, and she wouldn’t be opposed to marriage- if it was you.

✧.* not married because she has to be, but because she wants to be.

✧.* caitlyn is transparent about all of this with you, telling you that while she’s okay with the idea of marriage, she doesn’t expect it. it’s the least she can do: be honest.

✧.* ultimately, the decision is in your hands, and you decide that you undoubtedly want caitlyn to be your wife.

✧.* so you browse every single jeweler in both piltover and the undercity. looking for any hidden gems amongst them. independent jewelers, chains, even heirlooms from your family. but in your search, you find a sole jewelry dealer in the undercity. selling a silver engagement ring with sapphire clusters that perfectly match caitlyn’s eyes.

✧.* you’re in the family’s garden, cait looking off into the distance. observing… the leaves, the flowers, the way the light hits them? you’re unsure, but you decide now is your opportunity.

✧.* “caitlyn.”

✧.* caitlyn quickly turns her head to you, looking the slightest bit concerned. “hm?”

✧.* that’s when you drop to one knee and take out a ring box. caitlyn’s eyes blow wide, both hands clapping over her mouth. she can’t believe the scene that’s playing out in front of her.

✧.* “i can’t contain myself anymore. caitlyn, the time i’ve had with you has been wonderful. the most amazing time of my life. you are the epitome of grace and diligence, consistently leading. you bring out the best in me day after day, and my life feels complete with you in it. caitlyn kiramman, will you marry me?”

✧.* bless caitlyn, she’s trying so hard to keep the tears threatening to spill at bay. she only nods, once, then twice, then over and over before bringing you into a deep kiss.

✧.* when you slip the ring onto her finger, you wish you could freeze time and frame this particular moment. the adoration in the woman’s eyes is one you can’t describe.

✧.* when it comes to wedding planning, cait wants to be as involved as possible. of course, she has a job to do, so that does prolong the planning. but patience is a virtue she learned early, so she doesn’t mind.

✧.* “what’s another few months? we have all the time in the world, dear.”

✧.* the two of you choose to have a small and intimate wedding, inviting her father, a few council members, and anyone you’d like to invite.

✧.* caitlyn chooses a sleek v-neck black dress, fitted to her form with a long train. she opts to wear a small tiara instead of a veil.

✧.* upon further examination, you notice that it’s the very tiara cassandra wore on her wedding day. silver, with small rubies delicately placed. caitlyn honoring her mother in this way brought a whirlwind of emotions to you, but you knew she would be happy for her daughter.

✧.* and for that very reason, among many others, caitlyn’s wedding day is an emotional one for her. she’s elated to be finally marrying the woman she loves, but she wishes more than anything that her mother could be there to see it.

✧.* seeing cait walk down the aisle does wonders to you. waiting at the altar for her was excruciating as is, but you almost have to pick your jaw up off the floor as your fiancée makes her way closer and closer to you. she looks otherworldly.

✧.* she chuckles and beams at you once she steps up to the altar. taking a moment to just admire you. she reaches a slim hand out to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek in her hand for only a moment. her sapphire eyes full of adoration.

✧.* caitlyn has her vows written down, in that annoyingly perfect penmanship of hers. she reads from the paper, glancing up at you constantly while having to wipe her eyes.

✧.* “(y/n), i didn’t know if this day would ever come. but i’m so glad that it has. my love for you knows no bounds, it festers and grows and builds onto itself every day. it’s exhilarating, as is every day by your side. to call myself your wife will be my greatest honor. and to welcome you into the kiramann family, an even greater honor.”

✧.* she’s fully crying by the time she finishes reading out her vows, looking up at you with the best smile that she can muster. she’s so overcome with love, she can’t help it.

✧.* the moment the officiant says you may kiss, caitlyn is placing one hand firmly on your waist and the other wraps around your lower back. holding you close and brushing her lips against yours.

✧.* cait’s reception is rather relaxed, with a selection of mostly classical and contemporary music playing quietly over speakers. however, she insists on having several slow dances with you. she’s surprisingly good, which makes you suspect she’s experienced with this.

✧.* guiding you back and forth with expertise, her head buried into the crook of your neck. holding you impossibly close to her as she hums in contentment.

#arcane x reader #jinx x reader #mel medarda x reader #vi x reader #sevika x reader #caitlyn kiramman x reader #reader insert #arcane x you #sapphic

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misswynters · 3 months ago

Text

Ekko being protective while you are expecting

– short drabble

featuring. ekko x pregnant! reader

this was a late night thing so if there’s any mistakes let me know

Bright, golden sunlight filtered through the cracked glass of Zaun’s upper levels, casting a warm glow over the patchwork city. Rustic smell lingered throughout the entire city even in the places were you would think it would be. It was a sharp contrast to the pristine towers and polished streets of Piltover, but you’d come to love the chaotic beauty of Zaun. Its grit and resilience mirrored the spirit of its people, and despite everything, it had become home.

You adjusted the basket on your hip as you weaved through the narrow alleys, a small smile on your lips despite the slight strain in your back. The sounds of the city surrounded you: children laughing as they ran between stalls, the hiss of steam escaping from overhead pipes, and the occasional distant hum of machinery. Though Zaun was far from perfect, it had a heart. A fierce and determined spirit that had drawn you to it.

A boy darted out from a corner, his face smudged with dirt and his eyes wide with curiosity. “Miss!” he called out, holding up a small metal trinket he’d likely scavenged. “For good luck!”

Your heart melted at his gesture, and you crouched carefully to meet him at eye level. “Thank you, sweetheart,” you said warmly, taking the trinket and ruffling his hair. “Here, this is for you.” You handed him a piece of fruit from your basket, earning a toothy grin before he bolted off, his laughter echoing through the alley.

“Shouldn’t be out here on your own,” came a low, familiar voice from above.

You straightened, glancing up to find one of Ekko’s scouts perched on a rusted ledge, his sharp eyes scanning the area. He nodded at you before disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind only the faint sound of his boots against metal. You sighed, shaking your head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. Ekko.

Ever since you’d told him you were expecting, his protectiveness had gone into overdrive. If he wasn’t by your side, he made sure someone else was. and it wasn’t just for appearances. You knew how much he cared, how deeply he felt the responsibility to keep you safe. But it didn’t stop you from feeling a bit smothered at times.

You resumed your walk, stopping occasionally to hand out bread or share a kind word with someone in need. It was who you were, helping others brought you joy, even if it meant ignoring the occasional twinge of discomfort in your back. But as you reached out to give an elderly woman a loaf of bread, you felt a familiar presence behind you, the air around you shifting.

“Thought I told you to rest,” Ekko’s voice came, soft but firm.

You turned, your heart skipping at the sight of him. He leaned casually against the corner of a building, his staff slung over his shoulder, his sharp gaze fixed on you. His white hair gleamed in the sunlight, and there was a mixture of exasperation and fondness in his expression as he approached.

“I’m fine, Ekko,” you said, offering him a small smile. “I was just—”

“Helping people,” he interrupted, his lips quirking slightly. He stepped closer, his presence grounding, and his eyes softened as they drifted to the curve of your stomach. “I know, you’re always helping people.”

“It’s important to me,” you replied, your hands resting over his as he reached out to touch your bump. His palm was warm and steady, and for a moment, the world around you faded away.

“I know,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s why I love you. But you’ve got to let me take care of you now. Both of you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your chest tighten with emotion. You leaned into him, letting his strength envelop you. “You already do,” you whispered, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I’ve never felt safer.”

Ekko chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around you. “Good. Because I’ve got eyes everywhere, just so you know. You can’t take two steps without someone reporting back to me.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t suppress a laugh. “I figured as much. You’re like a hawk.”

“Damn right,” he said, his lips brushing against your forehead. “You’re my whole world now. You think I’m just gonna let you wander off into danger?”

“Danger?” you teased, raising an eyebrow. “I was handing out bread, not fighting Chem-Barons.”

He laughed, the sound low and rich, as he pulled you closer. “Doesn’t matter. This place has its risks, and I’m not taking any chances. You’re extremely important to me.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you reached up to cup his face, your fingers brushing along his jawline. “I’ll be careful,” you promised, your voice soft. “For you, the boy who worries.”

“For me,” he echoed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. “And for them.” His hand rested protectively over your stomach, his touch radiating warmth and love.

Ekko’s arms lingered around you for a moment longer before he sighed, resigned. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone light but firm. “But I’m coming with you. Not taking my eyes off you.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his protectiveness, even if it sometimes felt overbearing. “I don’t need a bodyguard, you know.”

He raised a skeptical brow. “You’re carrying our kid in Zaun. You need a whole army.”

Despite the exasperation in his words, there was no mistaking the affection in his voice. He took your basket from you, his staff resting casually on his shoulder as he fell into step beside you. “Lead the way, sweetheart,” he said, a playful edge to his tone, though you could see how his eyes darted to every shadow and figure as you moved through the streets.

You stopped occasionally to talk to people—an older man with a limp, a mother trying to soothe her crying baby, a group of kids selling hand-crafted trinkets. Each time, Ekko hung back slightly, letting you do what you did best but staying close enough that he could intervene if needed.

At one point, you crouched to hand a young girl a piece of fruit, smiling as she thanked you with wide, grateful eyes. Ekko’s gaze softened as he watched, a quiet admiration blooming on his face. This was why he fell for you. Not just your kindness but the way you carried it so effortlessly, even in a place as harsh as Zaun.

But as the day wore on, the basket grew lighter, and your steps began to slow. You passed by a rickety stall that had toppled over, its contents—a pile of salvaged wood and fabric—spilling onto the ground. Without thinking, you bent down to help the vendor gather the scattered pieces.

“Careful,” Ekko warned, his voice sharp with concern as he moved closer.

“I’m fine,” you said lightly, reaching for a particularly large plank. But as you tried to lift it, a sharp twinge shot through your back, and you let out a soft gasp, immediately straightening up.

Ekko was at your side in an instant, his hands on your shoulders. “What happened?” he asked, his voice steady, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

“Just… a twinge,” you admitted, wincing slightly. “Nothing serious.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Let me see.” Without waiting for a protest, he gently guided you to lean against a nearby wall, his hands running lightly over your back. “Does it hurt here?” he asked, pressing gently along your spine.

You winced again, and his jaw tightened. “That’s it. You’re done for the day.”

“Ekko—”

“No,” he said firmly, his hands resting on your hips as he looked you in the eye. “You’re done. You’re already doing too much. What if something worse happens? What if—”

He stopped himself, taking a deep breath to steady his voice. The panic was there, just beneath the surface, but he refused to let it show. Instead, he leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. “I don’t like seeing you get hurt,” he said softly.

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his words. Reaching up, you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing against his skin. “I’m okay,” you whispered, meeting his gaze. “I promise.”

But Ekko wasn’t having it. He pulled back, taking the basket and slinging it over his shoulder. “We’re going home,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “And you’re not carrying anything heavier than a pillow until this baby’s here.”

Despite the sternness of his words, his hand was impossibly gentle as it found yours, intertwining your fingers as he led you back through the streets. Along the way, he shot sharp glares at anyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive.

When you finally reached the hideout you shared, he helped you settle onto the bed, fussing over every detail. He would bring you water, adjusting the pillows, even insisting on propping up your feet.

“You’re ridiculous,” you teased, though your smile betrayed how much you appreciated his care.

“Yeah, well, you love it,” he shot back, his grin softening as he sat beside you. His hand found your stomach, his thumb brushing in gentle circles. “I just want to keep you comfortable.”

“You already do,” you said, leaning into him. “More than you know.”

Ekko leaned down to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering there. “Still,” he murmured. “I’ll always do more.”

As the two of you sat there, the weight of the day finally beginning to fade, you realized just how lucky you were. To have someone like ekko be the father of your child.

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jupiterpilgrim · 7 days ago

Text

Storm

Dahyun x Male Reader

word count: 5K

The storm’s been pounding the world outside since morning, slashing against the windows like nature itself lost its temper. Inside, though, it’s warm. Smells of butter and chocolate fill the small kitchen as you finish arranging the last handful of popcorn in the bowl. You grab the soda cans, balancing everything like a waiter on a tightrope. In the living room, Dahyun’s voice carries over the rumble of rain.

“Babe! Hurry up!” she whines, her pitch soaring as you hear the soft thuds of her bouncing on the couch cushions. She sounds like a sugar-rushed kid waiting for cake. You can already picture her, legs tucked under her, short pink Hello Kitty shorts riding up her pale thighs, loose shirt hanging off one shoulder. You shake your head with a grin, grabbing a pack of M&Ms to complete the spread.

Three months of living together, and the novelty hasn’t worn off. It’s the little things—how she’ll randomly burst into song while brushing her teeth or how she’s somehow made every corner of the house scream Dahyun. She’s your chaotic little sunbeam, glowing even on days like this, when the world outside feels drenched in gray.

You make your way into the living room. Dahyun’s perched on her knees now, practically vibrating with excitement. “Finally! I thought you were planning a three-course meal back there,” she teases, flashing that toothy grin of hers.

“Snacks are serious business,” you shoot back, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

She claps her hands like a kid at Christmas and immediately snatches the remote. “Okay, okay, let’s do this!” She’s already flicking through the Disney+ menu, landing on the classic she’s been hyping all week. Something bright and nostalgic—perfect for a stormy night.

Just as she’s about to press play, the sky outside splits open. Thunder roars so loud it rattles the windows, and then—bam—everything goes dark.

“AAAAHHHH!” Dahyun shrieks, her voice cutting through the sudden silence. She’s off the couch in a flash, nearly tripping over herself as she stumbles toward you. “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my GOD!” Her hands clutch at your arm, fingers digging in like a cat trying to climb a tree.

“It’s just a blackout,” you say, but she’s already shaking her head.

“Nope. Nope. Nope,” she chants, squeezing her eyes shut. Her grip tightens as another crack of thunder rolls through, closer this time. She lets out a tiny yelp, burying her face in your chest.

You wrap an arm around her, pulling her close. “Dahyunnie, it’s fine. It’s just weather. It’s not gonna eat you.”

“It feels like it’s gonna eat me,” she mutters into your shirt, voice muffled and pitiful. “What if it doesn’t come back? What if we’re stuck in the dark forever?”

You bite back a laugh, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Forever’s a stretch, don’t you think?”

“Don’t make fun of me!” she pouts, though the corners of her lips twitch. Her hands stay glued to you as she shuffles in place, practically curling into your side like you’re the only thing keeping her tethered to sanity.

You guide her back to the couch, sitting down with her practically in your lap. The rain hammers harder against the windows, and every so often the room lights up with a jagged flash of lightning. Each time, Dahyun flinches, burying herself further into you until she’s half-straddling you, her thin little body trembling slightly under the loose shirt.

“You’re really not a fan of storms, huh?” you ask softly, running your fingers through her silky black hair.

“Nope. Never. Hate them,” she mutters, clutching the front of your shirt. “They’re loud, and it’s dark, and it’s like... ugh, I can’t explain it.” She looks up at you, and even though you can't see it properly, you know she's scrunching her nose in that way that always makes your heart flip. “You think I’m dumb.

“I think you’re adorable,” you say, leaning in to nuzzle her. She giggles despite herself, smacking your chest lightly.

“Don’t try to charm me. I’m serious. I feel like a little kid, freaking out like this.”

“You’re my little kid,” you tease, earning another playful slap. “Alright, alright, I get it. But you know what? You don’t have to deal with it alone. I’m here.”

Her fingers relax a little, her body softening against you. She sighs, resting her head on your shoulder. “You always make me feel safe,” she murmurs.

“I mean, I am pretty great,” you joke, earning a snort.

Her laughter is short-lived as another rumble of thunder sends a shiver through her. Her legs twitch slightly where they’re pressed against yours, bare and smooth. You trail your hand down to her thigh, giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Hey,” you whisper, tilting her chin up so she’s looking at you. “I know a way to make you forget about the storm.”

Her eyes narrow suspiciously. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

You lean in closer, your voice dropping low. “Distraction therapy.”

Her lips part, her breath hitching slightly as she catches the mischievous glint in your eye. “You’re ridiculous,” she mumbles, though there’s a flicker of interest in her voice.

“Maybe,” you admit, letting your hand wander just a little higher, brushing the hem of her shorts. “But you love me for it.”

Her cheeks flush pink, the storm momentarily forgotten as she shifts in your lap, the weight of her settling just right.

You move your hand to Dahyun's head, your fingers comb through her hair, the silky strands slipping easily between your fingers. She feels so small in your lap, legs folded up, her cheek pressed against your chest. The rain’s still battering the windows, and the occasional flicker of lightning casts jagged shadows across the room, but you focus on her—on her warmth, her little huffs of nervous breath.

“You okay?” you ask softly, breaking the silence.

She nods weakly, though her grip on your shirt hasn’t loosened. “Yeah... I just—tonight was supposed to be fun, you know?”

“Yeah,” you murmur, brushing her hair behind her ear. “You were excited about the movie.”

She pulls back just enough to look up at you, her pout exaggerated. “Of course I was! It’s a classic! I’ve been talking about it all week, haven’t I?” Her voice lilts with playful indignation, though her eyes are still wide, the thunder’s threat lurking in the back of her mind.

“You’ve been hyping it like it’s the second coming of Christ,” you tease, earning a small giggle.

“Well, yeah,” she says with a dramatic toss of her head. “Now it’s ruined. Stupid storm.” Her gaze drifts toward the window, her mood dipping again. You hate seeing that little flicker of disappointment in her.

“We’ll watch it as soon as the power comes back,” you promise, pulling her closer. “But hey, this just means we’ll have to do this whole thing again. More snacks, more cuddles. Bigger deal.”

She narrows her eyes like she’s considering your pitch, then smirks. “Fine, but only if you let me pick another movie, too.”

“Deal,” you say, grinning, just as another crack of thunder splits the air.

Dahyun screams, loud and high-pitched, the sound stabbing directly into your eardrum. You wince, half-deaf, as she scrambles up against you like she’s trying to climb inside your skin. Her arms lock around your neck, her whole body trembling like a cornered kitten.

“Oh my god, oh my god, I hate this! It feels like the sky is gonna fall!” she wails, voice muffled against your chest.

“It’s okay, baby,” you whisper, stroking her back in slow circles. “It’s just noise. It can’t hurt you.”

“But it feels like it can,” she whimpers, squeezing tighter.

“Hey, listen to me,” you say, tilting her chin up so her glassy eyes meet yours. “You don’t need to be scared, okay? I’ve got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you while I’m here.”

She sniffs, her lips wobbling into the faintest smile. “You always say the right thing, huh?”

“It’s a gift,” you say, dropping a kiss on her forehead. “But for real. If you ever feel scared, you just let me know, okay?”

She nods, her voice small. “Okay.”

A pause stretches between you, the storm roaring outside, while inside, it’s just her heartbeat against yours. Finally, you murmur, “You want me to calm you down now? Make you feel good?”

She blinks up at you, her breath catching slightly. “...Yeah,” she whispers, almost shyly.

You lean in, the space between you shrinking. In the dark, neither of you can see clearly, and when your lips meet, there’s a sharp clink—teeth crashing together painfully.

“Shit!” you yelp, pulling back, your hand flying to your mouth.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” she gasps, then bursts out laughing when she sees you clutching your face. “You’re such a dork!”

“Me?! You’re the one who can’t aim!” you shoot back, grinning despite the ache.

She’s still laughing as you cup her face again, this time more careful, your thumb brushing against her cheekbone. “Alright, let’s try this again,” you whisper, and then your lips meet hers properly. It’s soft at first, a tentative press, but the way she melts into you makes you press harder, deeper. Her hands find their way to your shoulders, fingers curling into your shirt as she sighs into your mouth.

The world outside seems to shrink. The storm, the dark, the cold—all of it fades as your bodies draw closer, her warmth against yours. Her lips are so soft, and there’s something addictive about the way she responds, the little noises she makes as your hands trail down her sides, brushing the bare skin of her thighs where her shorts ride up.

When you finally pull back, your foreheads resting together, you whisper, “C’mon. Let’s go to the bedroom.”

She hesitates for half a second, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip, before nodding. “Okay,” she breathes.

The two of you fumble your way through the pitch-black apartment, bumping into furniture and each other. She stifles a giggle when she nearly trips over the coffee table, clutching your hand like it’s her lifeline. By the time you reach the bedroom, both of you are out of breath from laughing, the tension from earlier replaced with something warm, intimate. You push the door open, pulling her inside as lightning flashes outside, casting fleeting silver across her silhouette.

In the dark, her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close again. “Thanks for being my storm shield,” she whispers, her voice soft and teasing.

“Anytime,” you murmur, leaning down to kiss her again, this time slower, savoring every second.

Your lips are locked with hers, warm and soft, and it’s like nothing else in the world matters. As you kiss her, you guide her backward, your hands on her waist, steadying her as you move. Her leg bumps against the edge of the bed, and before either of you can react, she stumbles, falling onto the mattress with a surprised laugh.

You’re right there with her, landing softly on top of her. She’s still giggling, her cheeks flushed, and you can’t help but smile down at her. “You okay?” you ask, brushing her hair out of her face.

“Yeah,” she whispers, her voice light, her eyes sparkling in the faint sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Her hands slide up to your shoulders, pulling you closer. “Now kiss me.”

Then your mouth finds hers again, but this time it’s slower, deeper. Your hands roam, sliding down her sides, feeling the soft curve of her waist under the thin fabric of her shirt. She sighs into the kiss, her body relaxing beneath you as you press her into the mattress.

Breaking away from her lips, you start a trail of kisses down her jaw, your lips brushing over the delicate curve until you reach her neck. Her skin is warm and smells faintly of her vanilla body lotion, sweet and intoxicating. You breathe her in, unable to get enough, and press your mouth against her neck, kissing and nipping gently. Her head tilts back, giving you more access, and she lets out this tiny, breathy moan that goes straight to your core.

“God, you smell so good,” you murmur against her skin, your lips moving to her collarbone. She shivers under you, her hands gripping the back of your shirt.

“You always say that,” she whispers, her voice soft but laced with teasing.

“Because it’s true,” you reply, grinning as you kiss the hollow of her throat. She smells like comfort, like home, like something you could drown in and never get tired of. Every kiss draws another little sound from her—a sigh, a gasp, a quiet moan—and each one just spurs you on.

“I love you,” you whisper against her skin, the words tumbling out between kisses.

“I love you too,” she breathes, her voice trembling just slightly, like she’s overwhelmed.

Your hands slide up her sides, gathering the hem of her loose shirt. You pause for a second, giving her a look, then you pull it up, revealing her pale skin inch by inch. The cold air hits her, making her shiver, and you notice the goosebumps rising on her arms. “Cold?” you ask softly.

“A little,” she admits, but there’s a teasing glint in her eye. “You can warm me up, right?”

You smirk. “Oh, I’ve got that covered.”

Her shirt ends up somewhere on the floor, forgotten, as your eyes roam over her. Her chest rises and falls quickly, her breaths shallow, and her almost-flat breasts peek out from under her bra. You lean down, trailing kisses over her skin, starting at her stomach and working your way up, taking your time. Her breathing changes with every kiss, her chest heaving as you kiss the curve of her ribs, the dip between her breasts.

“You know I love these, right?” you murmur, your lips brushing over the top of her bra.

She rolls her eyes playfully, her cheeks flushing pink. “You’ve told me, like, a million times.”

“Yeah, but I never get tired of saying it,” you reply, slipping your fingers under the fabric and pulling the bra down enough to expose her. The cold air makes her nipples stiffen instantly, but your mouth is there a second later, warm and soft, replacing the chill with heat.

She gasps sharply, her back arching slightly as your lips close around her nipple. Your tongue flicks over the sensitive peak, and her hands fly to your hair, tangling in it as she pulls you closer. “God, that feels good,” she whispers, her voice shaky.

You hum against her skin, sucking gently, savoring the way her body reacts to every movement of your mouth. Your free hand slides up to her other breast, your fingers tracing lazy circles around the nipple before giving it a gentle pinch. She moans, her hips shifting under you, and you can feel the warmth of her thighs brushing against yours.

“You’re so perfect,” you say between kisses, moving to her other breast. “I could stay here forever.”

“Don’t say that,” she murmurs, her voice soft but full of emotion. “You’ll make me cry.”

You pause, looking up at her, your lips brushing against her skin. “Good tears or bad tears?”

She smiles down at you, her eyes shining. “Good ones.”

“Then I’ll keep going,” you whisper, lowering your mouth to her again.

Your mouth stays busy on her chest, sucking gently on her nipple while your tongue flicks over the hardened peak, earning another soft moan from her lips. Her fingers are tangled in your hair, tugging slightly whenever you suck harder. It’s like she’s melting under you, her body arching and squirming, her little sounds only encouraging you to keep going.

As your lips trail from one breast to the other, your hand starts to wander. It slides down the flat plane of her stomach, her skin warm and smooth beneath your touch. You pause for a moment, just long enough to feel the slight hitch in her breathing as your fingers reach the waistband of her shorts. You know she's watching you now, her eyes wide and dark, her lips parted like she’s waiting for what’s coming next.

You slip your hand under the fabric of her shorts and panties, your palm brushing against her hip, and immediately feel the heat radiating from her. When your fingers dip lower, the first thing you feel is how wet she already is. A low groan escapes your throat as your fingers slide over her slick folds, and you pull back just enough to murmur against her skin, “You’re soaked, baby.”

“Shut up,” she whispers, her cheeks flushed, but there’s no hiding the way her body reacts. Her hips shift instinctively, pressing herself against your hand, her breath coming out in quick, shaky bursts.

Your fingers glide over her, spreading her wetness as you find her clit, rubbing slow, teasing circles. Her body jerks slightly, a sharp gasp leaving her lips. “Oh my god,” she breathes, her head falling back against the pillow.

“Feel good?” you ask, though the way her thighs tremble and try to close around your hand is answer enough.

“Yes,” she whimpers, her voice soft and high-pitched, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” you say with a grin, dipping your head back down to her chest. Your lips latch onto her nipple again, sucking harder this time, your teeth grazing the sensitive skin just enough to make her squirm. At the same time, your fingers slide lower, slipping into her tight, dripping hole.

“Fuck,” you groan against her skin as you feel how warm and snug she is around your fingers. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

She lets out a choked moan, her hands flying to your shoulders, clutching you as your fingers start to move. Slow at first, pumping in and out of her while your thumb circles her clit. Her body reacts instantly, her hips rocking to meet your hand, her moans growing louder with every thrust.

“God, you’re amazing,” you murmur, kissing her chest, her neck, her jaw. “So fucking perfect.”

She’s trembling now, her breathing ragged as you pick up the pace. Your fingers curl inside her, finding that spot that makes her gasp and cling to you like her life depends on it. “Right there,” she cries out, her nails digging into your skin. “Fuck, don’t stop, right there.”

“Anything for you,” you whisper, your voice low and thick with desire. Your thumb presses harder against her clit, and you feel her walls tighten around your fingers, her body tensing. Her moans are louder now, more desperate, her head tossing back as her legs start to shake.

It’s all too much for her—your mouth on her breasts, your fingers buried deep in her slick pussy, pumping and curling just right. Every time you move, every time you kiss her skin, her little moans grow louder, her hips rocking against your hand like she can’t get enough. Her nails dig into your shoulders as she gasps for air, her voice breaking into shaky little whimpers.

But even with all that, it’s not enough for her. She can feel the weight of your cock pressing against her thigh, thick and heavy, the heat of it radiating through your pants. It’s driving her insane. Her hips jerk erratically, chasing a friction that isn’t there, and her head tilts back as she lets out a desperate, needy moan.

“Babe,” she whines, her voice trembling, almost pathetic with how desperate she sounds. “I need you. Please. I need it.”

Her words make your cock throb, the sheer hunger in her tone lighting a fire in your chest. You can’t help the grin that spreads across your face as you look down at her. “You need what?” you ask, teasing, though your voice is rough, your own need barely held in check.

She groans in frustration, her cheeks flushed, her thighs trembling. “You know what I need!” she cries, her hands sliding down your chest, trying to tug at the waistband of your pants. “Please, I need your cock. I can’t wait anymore.”

The way she’s begging, her voice cracking with need, only makes you harder. Your fingers slow their pace inside her, and she whimpers at the loss of momentum, squirming beneath you. “You really want it that bad?” you murmur, pulling your hand out of her and holding it up before putting two fingers in your mouth to taste it. “You’re dripping for me, baby.”

“Yes!” she gasps, her hands fumbling with the button of your pants now, her impatience clear in every movement. “Please, just—just fuck me already. I need you.”

Her begging snaps what little control you were holding onto. “Alright,” you growl, sitting back on your knees and shoving your pants down. You don’t bother with underwear—you’re not wearing any—and your cock springs free, thick and hard, the tip already glistening with precum. Dahyun's small hand immediately wraps around your cock, stroking it lightly, her breath catching.

“You’re so big,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

“Then come and get it,” you reply, leaning back against the headboard, your cock resting against your stomach, throbbing with anticipation.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her hands go to her back, unclasping her bra and letting it fall to the floor. Her shorts follow along with her panties, and now she’s naked, her pale skin glowing in the darkness. She’s perfect, every curve, every line of her body making your mouth water.

You grab her hips as she climbs onto your lap, straddling you, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of your thighs. “You sure you can handle it?” you tease, your hands sliding down to cup her ass, squeezing the soft flesh.

“Shut up,” she mutters. “I need it.”

Her hands grip your shoulders as she tries to position herself, her body brushing against yours in the process. You can feel the heat of her pussy against your cock, and it makes you groan, your hands tightening on her hips.

“It’s hard to see,” she murmurs, frustration creeping into her tone as she shifts, trying to line herself up in the dark.

“Take your time, baby,” you say, though your voice is strained. Every time her slick folds brush against your cock, it sends a jolt of electricity through you. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Finally, she finds the angle she needs, and you both moan as the tip of your cock presses against her entrance. Slowly, she starts to sink down, her tight pussy stretching around you inch by inch.

“Fuck,” she gasps, her head falling forward, her nails digging into your shoulders as she lowers herself. “You’re so... fucking... big.”

“You’re so tight,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips as you try not to buck up into her. The heat and wetness of her pussy, the way it clenches around you, makes it almost impossible to stay still. “God, you feel so good.”

She’s breathing hard, her thighs trembling as she takes more of you, her pussy stretching to accommodate your girth. It’s slow, almost torturous, but finally, she’s seated all the way down, her ass resting against your thighs. She lets out a shaky moan of relief, her head falling back as her body adjusts to the fullness.

“Fuck,” she whispers, her voice shaky. “You’re so deep... I can feel you everywhere.”

You tilt your head back, groaning as her walls flutter around you. “You’re perfect,” you murmur, your hands sliding up her sides, holding her steady as she starts to move. “Ride me, baby. Show me how much you need it.”

The moment Dahyun starts moving, you know you’re in trouble. She wastes no time, her hips rolling and bouncing, her tight, wet pussy gripping you like a fucking vice. It’s almost overwhelming—how snug she is, how her heat wraps around you, dragging you deeper with every thrust. Even in the dark, with the only light coming from the occasional flicker of lightning outside, you don’t need to see her to know she looks incredible. Her small, pale body moving on top of you, her thighs trembling as she rides you like her life depends on it—you can feel it all, and it’s driving you insane.

“Fuck,” you groan, your hands gripping her hips, guiding her movements as she starts to pick up speed. “You’re so fucking tight, baby.”

Her moans grow louder, higher-pitched, the sound raw and needy as she rocks her hips against you. Her hands are braced on your chest, her nails digging in for leverage as she moves. “God,” she whimpers, her voice shaky but insistent. “You’re so big. So fucking thick. I can feel you stretching me out.”

Your cock throbs at her words, a low growl rumbling in your chest. She always says shit like that, like she knows exactly how to get under your skin, how to push you closer to the edge. And fuck, it works every time. “You love it, don’t you?” you mutter, your voice rough. “You love how my cock fills you up.”

“Yes,” she cries out, her pace quickening, the wet sound of her pussy taking you echoing through the room. “I love it so much. I’m fucking addicted to it. To you.”

Her confession makes your grip on her hips tighten, your fingers digging into her soft flesh as you help guide her movements. You can feel her tight little ass rubbing against your pelvis with every bounce, the sensation sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. “You feel so fucking good, Dahyun,” you groan, your head tilting back as she keeps going. “I can never get enough of you.”

The rain outside seems to be coming down harder, the sound of it pounding against the windows mixing with the slap of her skin against yours. Thunder rolls through the sky, loud and sharp, but neither of you pays it any attention. She’s too focused on the way your cock fills her, and you’re too caught up in the way her pussy clenches around you, milking you like she never wants to let go.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, her voice breaking slightly as she leans forward, her breath hot against your neck. “I can feel you... fuck, I can feel you in my stomach.”

Her words make your cock twitch, and you glance down, even in the dim light, knowing exactly what she’s talking about. She’s so small, her frame so petite, that every time you’re buried inside her, you can see the faint outline of your cock bulging in her lower belly. It’s fucking intoxicating, knowing how much you fill her, how her tiny body takes you so perfectly.

“Look at that,” you murmur, your hand sliding between you to press gently against her stomach. She lets out a choked gasp, her hips stuttering for a moment as she feels the added pressure. “You feel that? That’s me, baby. That’s my cock inside you.”

“Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice high and shaky. “I feel it... I love it. I love how big you are. How you stretch me out.”

“Keep going,” you tell her, your hands moving back to her hips, urging her to keep moving. “Ride me, baby. Don’t stop.”

She doesn’t need any more encouragement. Her pace quickens again, her hips slamming down onto you with a desperate rhythm. Her moans grow louder, more frantic, the sound mixing with the rain and thunder as she completely loses herself in the feeling of you. Her thighs are trembling against your sides, her body working overtime to take all of you, but she doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down.

“God, you’re amazing,” you groan, your hands roaming up and down her body, over her ribs, her waist, her thighs. “You’re so fucking perfect, Dahyun. I could watch you do this all night.”

“Then don’t stop watching,” she gasps, her voice breathless but teasing. “I’ll ride you as long as you want.”

And fuck, she means it. Even though you haven’t cum yet, and neither has she, the way she’s moving, the way her pussy grips you like she never wants to let you go—it’s enough to make you feel like you could lose it at any second. But you hold on, watching as she keeps going, her moans and gasps filling the room as she rides you like there’s no tomorrow.

Dahyun’s movements are growing more frantic now, her slim body bouncing on your cock with wild abandon. Her moans are louder, breathless and unrestrained, filling the room as her hips slap against yours. The wet, messy sounds of her tight pussy taking you echo beneath the storm outside, the rain beating against the windows a steady, distant drum. Her small hands cling to your shoulders, her nails digging into your skin as she rides you like she can’t get enough.

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, your hands gripping her waist to steady her. “You’re so fucking good. Keep going, just like that.”

Her moans hitch, turning higher-pitched as she leans back slightly, her head tilting toward the ceiling. “It’s so good,” she whimpers, her voice shaky. “You’re so big—I feel so full.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your fingers pressing harder into her hips. “You like how my cock stretches you, don’t you?”

“Yes!” she cries out, her pace quickening as her thighs tremble around you. “I love it. I love you. It’s too much, I’m—” Her words break off into a sharp gasp, her body shuddering as she continues to bounce, every movement sending jolts of pleasure through both of you.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” you murmur, your voice rough and low as you watch her fall apart on top of you.

She nods frantically, her hands sliding up to your chest as she leans forward, her petite frame trembling with every movement. “So close,” she breathes, her voice almost a sob. “I can’t—oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Come here,” you interrupt, your voice firm but gentle as you pull her closer. She leans down, her breasts brushing against your chest, her flushed face inches from yours. You catch her lips in a messy, desperate kiss, your hands sliding up her back to hold her against you. She moans into your mouth, her hips still rocking against yours as you take over.

“I’m gonna make you cum,” you whisper against her lips, your breath hot and heavy. “Hold on tight, baby.”

With that, you adjust your legs on the bed, planting your feet for better leverage. Your hands move to her hips, holding her steady as you start to thrust up into her, hard and fast. The first deep, powerful stroke makes her cry out, her body jolting against yours.

“Oh my god!” she gasps, her voice high-pitched and trembling as you pound into her tight, soaking pussy.

“You like that?” you growl, your thrusts relentless as you drive into her over and over, each one hitting deeper, harder, making her walls squeeze around you like a vice.

“Yes! Yes, fuck, yes!” she screams, her head dropping onto your shoulder as her nails rake down your back. “I love it! Don’t stop—please don’t stop!”

Her moans are louder now, right in your ear, and fuck, it’s exactly what you need. The sound of her losing herself, the way her voice breaks with every thrust, sends a thrill through you. “That’s it,” you murmur, your lips brushing against her ear. “Keep moaning for me, baby. Let me hear how good it feels.”

She doesn’t hold back, her cries spilling out freely as you keep slamming into her, your cock hitting her deep, her pussy clenching tighter with every thrust. “It’s so good,” she babbles, her words slurring together. “You’re so good, so big, I can’t—I’m gonna—oh god, I’m gonna—”

“Come on, Dahyun,” you urge her, your voice low and rough. “Let go. Cum for me. I want to feel you.”

Her body stiffens suddenly, her back arching as she lets out a sharp, broken cry. “Oh fuck!” she screams, her walls clamping down around you as she finally falls over the edge. Her whole body shakes, her hips jerking erratically as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over her.

You keep thrusting into her, your cock buried to the hilt as her orgasm rips through her. Her pussy clenches around you in rhythmic pulses, so tight it’s almost painful, but you don’t stop. You grind deeper, chasing that sweet friction even as she squirms, her breath hitching in overstimulated gasps.

“Too much—too much,” she whines, her voice cracking, but her hips jerk forward anyway, betraying her. You can’t see her face in the dark, but you know she’s rolling her eyes—that mix of annoyed and amused she always gets when you push her past her limits.

“You love it,” you growl, slowing just enough to let her catch her breath, your hands pinning her trembling thighs wide. Her skin is slick with sweat, the air thick with the musky scent of sex and her vanilla lotion.

She collapses against your chest, panting, her heartbeat wild against yours. “You’re… insane,” she mutters, but there’s a laugh tangled in her words. Her fingers trace lazy circles on your shoulder, shaky but still teasing.

You smirk, brushing damp hair from her forehead. “Not even close to done with you.”

Before she can protest, you flip her onto her back, the mattress groaning as you loom over her. Her legs instinctively wrap around your waist, heels digging into your ass like she’s already begging for more. The faint glow of lightning spills through the curtains, illuminating her flushed face, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes dark and hungry.

“Gonna fuck you until I fill you up,” you say, voice rough. Your cock twitches, still rock-hard, leaking precum inside her pussy. “You want that? Want me to cum deep inside you?”

Her breath hitches. She bites her lip, her hips tilt upward, inviting. “Yes,” she whispers, then louder, desperate: “Fuck, yes—please, I need it. Need you to—ah—!”

You don’t let her finish. You slam into her, one brutal thrust that steals her voice, her back arching off the bed. She’s so fucking wet, her pussy swollen and sensitive from her first orgasm, but she takes you greedily, her nails raking down your spine.

“Harder,” she demands, her legs tightening around you. “Don’t fucking hold back—give it to me.”

You oblige. Your hips piston into her, the slap of skin echoing beneath the storm’s dying growls. Every snap of your pelvis drags a broken moan from her throat, her walls fluttering around you like she’s trying to milk you dry. She’s a mess—hair tangled, chest heaving, tears clinging to her lashes from the intensity—but she’s yours, unraveling again under your hands.

“You feel that?” you grunt, driving deeper, your balls slapping against her ass. “Gonna pump you so full, you’ll drip for days.”

She whimpers, her head thrashing against the pillow. “Do it—fuck, cum in me—I want it, want you—”

You feel it first in your balls—that coiled, electric tension snapping tight as Dahyun’s pussy milks you, her walls fluttering like a fucking vice around your cock. “Gonna cum,” you warn, voice shredded, hips stuttering as you drive into her one last time. She claws at your back, her moans pitching higher. “Do it—fill me up, please—!”

Your release hits like a detonation—thick, pulsing ropes of cum surging deep into her. You groan, low and guttural, as you pump her full, your cock twitching with every hot jet that floods her tight pink cunt. She gasps, her legs shaking where they’re hooked around your waist, her nails digging crescent moons into your skin. “Fuck,” she whimpers, her voice breaking, “it’s so hot—I can feel it—”

You grind your hips harder, burying yourself to the root as your cum spills into her, the wet slap of your skin against hers echoing in the dark. Her pussy clenches greedily, sucking every drop from you, her breath coming in ragged hitches as you fill her. “That’s it,” you rasp, your forehead pressed to hers, “take it all, baby. Take all my fucking cum.”

She keens, her back arching off the mattress as your cum leaks around your cock, dripping down her thighs. The smell of sex—musky and sweet—hangs thick in the air, mixing with the metallic tang of rain still clinging to the windows. You collapse onto her, both of you slick with sweat, your chests heaving as you ride out the aftershocks.

Minutes later, the room is quieter the storm outside reduced to a soft, distant hum. Dahyun’s curled into your side, her head resting on your chest, her breath warm and steady against your skin. Your cum is still leaking out of her, pooling between her thighs and staining the sheets, but neither of you care. The mess is part of it—part of this, the raw, unfiltered intimacy that comes after.

You run your fingers through her hair, the strands silky and damp with sweat. She hums softly, her body melting into yours, her legs tangled with yours under the covers. “You good?” you ask, your voice low and rough, but tender.

She tilts her head up to look at you, her big brown eyes glazed but content. “Mm. Better than good,” she murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at her lips. “You?”

“Never better,” you say, brushing a thumb over her cheek. She leans into the touch, her skin warm and flushed.

Her hand trails down your chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns over your abs. “You know,” she starts, her voice teasing, “you’re kinda insufferable when you’re all… post-sex smug.”

You snort, pulling her closer. “Says the girl who just begged me to fill her up.”

She smacks your chest lightly, but there’s no real heat behind it. “Shut up,” she mutters, though her cheeks flush pink. “I was vulnerable.”

“Uh-huh.” You press a kiss to her forehead, your lips lingering against her skin. “And now you’re not scared of the storm anymore, huh?”

She glances toward the window, where the rain taps gently against the glass. “What storm?” she says, her tone light and playful. “I don’t even remember what I was scared of.”

You chuckle, your hand sliding down to rest on her hip. “Good. ‘Cause I’m not letting you go anywhere tonight.”

She shifts slightly, her body pressing even closer to yours, her warmth seeping into your skin. “Like I’d want to,” she mumbles, her voice muffled against your chest.

You smile, your fingers tracing lazy circles on her back. The room smells like sex and rain, the air thick with the kind of quiet that only comes after something real. Her heartbeat syncs with yours, steady and slow, and for a moment, the world feels perfect.

“You’re my favorite,” she says suddenly, her voice soft but sure.

You glance down at her, raising an eyebrow. “Favorite what?”

“Everything,” she says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“Back at you, Dahyunnie,” you murmur, pressing another kiss to her hair.

She sighs, content, her body relaxing completely against yours. Outside, the storm fades into nothing, but inside, it’s just her warmth, your arms, and the quiet promise of more nights like this.

#Dahyun #dahyun smut #twice dahyun #twice smut #twice Dahyun smut #kpop fluff #kpop smut #kpop m!reader #kpop male oc #kpop male reader #m!reader #kpop gg smut #gg smut #Dahyun fluff #dahyun x reader #dahyun #dahyun twice #male reader #m! reader

823 notes · View notes

seungcheorry · 5 months ago

Text

"did you forget anything?", you say, as you close his backpack.

jeonghan mentally counts something using his fingers, looking around.

"no, i think i'm good", he shrugs.

you sigh, because there's nothing left to do now other than say bye. he told you countless times before that it's okay, that he will be fine, but he also kinda likes the way your dramatic ass acts like he's going to war.

"you truly don't want me to go?"

"love, you can go if you want to", jeonghan smiles. "but the members will be there, my family, so it will probably get a bit chaotic. can you deal with that today?"

you think for a bit. of course you want to drop him off at the enlistment center, of course you wanna make the most of your time with him, of c-

"because you know i'll be home in about 4 weeks and i'll come straight back to your arms, right?"

that makes you smile, which makes jeonghan smiles harder. he hugs you by your waist, resting his head on your shoulder. it feels weird not to have his long, soft locks on your neck, having his buzzcut almost tickling your skin instead.

"i'll miss you."

"think about it as a business trip, i'll be back before you know it."

"yeah, but what if you get hurt?"

"then i'll have to come home earlier", he lifts his head to look at you. "i'll be fine, please don't worry too much."

again, you sigh. jeonghan's phone vibrates in his pocket with a notification, which he checks to be from his sister.

"they're almost here, go get ready if you wanna go."

"yes, sir."

as you walk towards the bathroom, you find jeonghan's cap on the floor.

"here, you almost forgot, bald guy", you throw it at him, the new nickname sounding so weird rolling out of your tongue - it's still too early for jokes.

and then, as your heart hurts a little again, you realize...

"god, i'm so glad my bias won't have to serve, i couldn't ever do this with junhui."

"ya!", jeonghan almost screams. "what do you mean 'bias'? y/n, get back here!"

but you just shut the bathroom door with a loud laugh.

1K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 5 months ago

Text

Just A Ski “Inchident” : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc

summary: a chaotic trip to the ski slopes was never going to end seamlessly, was it?? ⛷️

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, carmenmmundt and 482,827 others

ynusername: what could possibly go wrong here? ⛷️

31,048 comments

username1: why do I feel like this is gonna end so badly?

charles_leclerc: I’ll be right there to make sure that you’re safe sweetheart 💕

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc you’ll be off and forgetting about me in no time

arthur_leclerc: @/charles_leclerc @/ynusername and if he doesn’t keep you safe I’ll be there to push him down the mountain 😂

username2: omg hope you guys have the best trip ever 🤩

landonorris: I’m betting £20 you come back with a broken bone!

ynusername: @/landonorris pls don’t jinx me like this 😭

username3: pls just stay safe both of you we don’t need any injuries 🤞🏻

carlossainz55: you’re so brave trusting charles to take you skiing!!

username4: I don’t have a good feeling about this 😂

maxverstappen1: next time we’ll have to go on a couples holiday down to the slopes!

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 I don’t think I’ll be at your level of skiing for quite some time 😂

username5: everyone on that slope better watch out with you two about!!

iamrebeccad: I promise you’ll love it, skiing is the best thing ever once you get the hang of it 🫶🏻

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, pierregasly and 2,048,462 others

charles_leclerc: back on the slopes doing one of my favourite things in the world 🏔️

204,473 comments

username6: there’s something about charles in ski gear that really speaks to me 🔥

georgerussell63: enjoy your trip, nothing quite like the adrenaline of flying down the slopes ⛷️

username7: is there anything that this man can’t do??

danielricciardo: I’ll laugh now if you come back more broken than yn does

charles_leclerc: @/danielricciardo that’s impossible, you just wait until you see poor yn ski 🥹

username8: poor yn is probably cursing charles out so bad rn!

maxverstappen1: still slightly offended I didn’t get an invite ngl…😂

username9: he looks like he’s in his element ngl

carlossainz55: please come back in piece to try and finish off the end of the season 🙏🏻

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 it’s not me you need to worry about…

username10: I bet he’s one of those show offs that makes it look so much easier than it actually is 🙃

ynusername: I’m still sat here wondering how you ever convinced me to do this 😂

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername by the end of this trip you’ll love skiing, trust me 💞

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 573,049 others

ynusername: this weird guy kept following me up the slopes, apparently he says he’s some sort of expert but I’m yet to be convinced 😂🚠

48,201 comments

username11: ngl I wouldn’t mind that view staring at me on a ski lift 🫠

iamrebeccad: you look like you’re doing so well, told you you’d get the hang of it 🤩

username12: he’s an annoying expert at everything he does 😂

pierregasly: don’t believe him yn, trust me, I’ve been skiing with him before!!

username13: I love the relationship that these two have omg

landonorris: you’re so right, he’s a giant weirdo 😂😂

username14: what I would give to be in yn’s shoes rn rather than staring at these photos kicking my heels in bed

username15: at least charles looks like he’s taking care of yn so far 😂

arthur_leclerc: the going up is fine, it’s the going down you’ve got to worry about⛷️

ynusername: @/arthur_leclerc don’t say that 😭

username16: best of all you’re still standing, that’s the main thing!

danielricciardo: how much are you regretting saying yes to this trip out of 10??

ynusername: @/danielricciardo 10/10 what have I signed myself up for!? 💯

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by iamrebeccad, arthur_leclerc and 472,927 others

ynusername: it turns out quite a lot can actually go wrong when skiing 😭

61,048 comments

username17: oh yn only you could end up doing something like this 😂

georgerussell63: I’m trying so hard not to love but honestly how do you manage to always end up like this!

ynusername: @/georgerussell63 I told you all I wasn’t built for skiing

username18: sending you so much love and hope the injury isn’t too bad 🤞🏻

charles_leclerc: at least you got to go back and enjoy the hot tub 😉

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc I almost got some peace and quiet until you appeared 😂

username19: please make sure you get plenty of rest and take care of yourself!

maxverstappen1: I don’t even think I want to ask how you managed to do this 🤦🏻‍♂️

username20: I blame charles for this, even if he wasn’t even there!

carmenmmundt: wish I was there to give you the biggest cuddle rn 🫂

alex_albon: and this is why I refuse to take lily skiing every year when she asks!!

username21: oh yn, I’ve never met anyone so clumsy in my life 😬

landonorris: is it broken?? do I get my £20??

ynusername: @/landonorris none of your business 😂😂😂

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris nothing broken so no one is coughing up just yet!

username22: I can just picture charles laughing his head off at this too

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 2,028,574 others

charles_leclerc: just to let you all know yn is back in the cabin and resting well, when I offered to stay and take care of her she told me to go away and that I’d done enough damage 😂😂

197,473 comments

username23: glad to hear yn is on the mend and getting plenty of rest 🥺

iamrebeccad: yes @/ynusername put him in his place 😂💪🏻

username24: bless her, hopefully the injury isn’t anything too nasty

arthur_leclerc: she’s only resting because you’ve finally stopped laughing at her 😂

oscarpiastri: why you’d pick to ski anyway when there’s all that sunshine is crazy to me!?

ynusername: you did enough damage suggesting we go skiing in the first place 🤦🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername how was I supposed to know you’d be this bad at it??

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc it’s like you forget how clumsy I am 🙃

username25: looking at that cabin I’d want to be left alone to enjoy it too!!

carlossainz55: yn saying what so many of us have wanted to say for so long 🙌🏻

charles_leclerc: @/carlossainz55 have you forgotten were teammates?? you’re supposed to be on my side!

username26: she’s probably just embarrassed charles to be hurt 😭

danielricciardo: I think I’d much rather be where yn is, it looks so warm and cosy 😍

username27: you two can’t go anywhere without causing chaos 😂😂

maxverstappen1: at least now you can go and show off without having to worry about yn

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris and 582,713 others

ynusername: charles fell on his ass so hard today and I can’t begin to tell you how hard I laughed 🤣🎿

52,958 comments

username28: revenge is the sweetest dish ever!!!

lilymhe: you guys are adorable 🥹

charles_leclerc: I’ll give you that one, I probably deserved it 🤣

ynusername: @/charles_leclerc the best bit is I got in on camera to hold against you forever 🙌🏻

maxverstappen1: @/ynusername I’ll pay you a thousand pounds to send me that video!!!

username29: go on yn! get him back for laughing at you!

carlossainz55: I hope you got right up in his face and laughed too 😂

username30: I swear he’s just as clumsy as you are sometimes 😂😂

iamrebeccad: glad to see you finally smiling again girlie 💕

username31: I can’t get over how messy this whole trip has been for you both 🤦🏻‍♀️

danielricciardo: it’s gonna be a miracle if you both make it home in one piece at this rate…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by arthur_leclerc, ynusername and 2,958,473 others

charles_leclerc: the trip of a lifetime, even if the two of us are returning much more battered and bruised than we were when we arrived 🎿💕

278,500 comments

username32: please hurry up and get home where we know you’ll be safe from injury again 😂

ynusername: definitely a trio of a lifetime and never again!!

charles_leclerc: @/ynusername let’s stick to the beach next year 💞

username33: promise us you’ll never go skiing with yn again charles!!

alex_albon: why you’d decide to throw yourself down on a mountain on skis is beyond me 🙄

username34: I dread to think how broken your bodies are rn…

maxverstappen1: maybe we’ll rethink that couples holiday after all 😂

username35: you guys are definitely built for the sunshine ☀️

danielricciardo: I can’t see yn agreeing to one of your ideas for a while after this

username36: I’m just impressed you’re both still standing at the end of it 😂

landonorris: can’t believe I didn’t win my bet, I’m impressed there aren’t any broken bones!

charles_leclerc: @/landonorris no one is more impressed than me 😂

username37: yn really was brave for ever agreeing to this!!

iamrebeccad: can’t wait to have you guys back home and where you belong 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

1K notes · View notes

little-jana · 1 month ago

Text

"She Said No"

Pairing: Spencer Reid x f!reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: jealous Spencer, a guy flirting with reader, kissing

Words: 1.5k

Summary: After a case, a guy starts flirting with the reader. Spencer doesn't like that at all.

The bar was crowded, buzzing with music and voices overlapping in a chaotic harmony. The team had chosen this place to unwind after a long case, and though it wasn’t my scene, I didn’t want to be the only one to say no. I figured a couple of hours with a fruity drink and good company couldn’t hurt.

I stuck close to the bar while the others scattered—Garcia dragged Morgan to the dance floor, JJ and Will found a quieter corner to chat, and Emily and Rossi were already laughing over glasses of whiskey. Spencer was somewhere, probably lost in thought or nursing a single beer, but I couldn’t spot him right away.

I was halfway through my drink when a man slid into the seat beside me. I didn’t notice him at first, too busy scanning the room, but his voice broke through the noise.

“Looks like you’re flying solo tonight.”

I glanced at him, startled by his sudden proximity. He was tall, broad-shouldered, and wore an expensive suit that clashed with the casual vibe of the bar. His confidence was palpable, his smile overly polished.

“Not exactly,” I replied politely, lifting my drink. “I’m here with friends.”

“Friends?” he asked, leaning closer. “So, not a boyfriend?”

I frowned, my grip tightening around my glass. “No, just friends.”

“Good,” he said with a grin. “That makes this easier.”

I blinked, caught off guard. “Excuse me?”

He gestured to the bartender to get me another drink, ignoring the confused look on my face. “You looked like you needed some company. A guy like me can’t let a girl like you sit here all alone.”

My polite smile faltered. “I’m fine, really. But thanks.”

“Come on,” he said, undeterred. “It’s just a drink.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

“She said no.”

I turned, surprised to find Spencer standing just behind me. His hands were shoved into his pockets, but the tightness in his jaw and the sharpness in his eyes told a different story.

The man raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And who are you?”

“I’m her friend,” Spencer replied evenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried a weight that made the man pause. “And she’s not interested.”

“Friend, huh?” the man said, smirking. “Doesn’t seem like you’re her type.”

Spencer didn’t react to the jab, his expression calm but unyielding. “She already gave you her answer. I suggest you walk away.”

The man chuckled, shaking his head. “Whatever, man. Good luck.”

He turned and disappeared into the crowd, leaving me standing there, my heart racing.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, glancing up at Spencer.

“Yes, I did,” he said, his gaze still fixed on where the man had walked off. “He wasn’t listening to you.”

“I had it under control,” I insisted, though my voice lacked conviction.

Spencer turned to me then, his hazel eyes softening. “I know you did. But he had no right to put you in that position.”

There was something in his tone that made my breath catch. It wasn’t just protective—it was possessive in a way I’d never seen from Spencer before.

“Why does it bother you so much?” I asked, my voice quieter now.

He hesitated, his eyes darting away. “It doesn’t.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Really? Because it seemed like it did.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet sigh. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” he admitted. “Like you were… something to win.”

My heart fluttered, and I took a step closer to him without thinking. “And how do you look at me?”

He blinked, caught off guard by the question. For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, finally, he sighed.

“Like someone I don’t deserve,” he said softly.

My breath caught, and I felt my cheeks flush. “Spencer…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I just… I couldn’t stand there and watch him treat you like that. I couldn’t.”

The words hung between us, heavy and charged. I didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process the warmth spreading through my chest.

Before I could respond, Morgan’s voice broke the silence. “Hey, Pretty Boy, you good?”

We turned to find the rest of the team watching us, their curiosity evident. Morgan raised an eyebrow, clearly picking up on the tension.

“Yeah,” Spencer said quickly, stepping back. “We’re fine.”

Morgan didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, turning back to the others.

When we were alone again, I turned to Spencer, my heart still racing. “Thank you,” I said softly.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he replied, his voice quiet.

“I know,” I said, smiling. “But I want to.”

He smiled back, that shy, boyish smile that always made my heart ache.

“Can I walk you out?” he asked.

I nodded, and as we stepped out into the cool night air, I couldn’t help but feel like something had shifted between us—something I wasn’t ready to let go of.

As Spencer and I stepped into the crisp night air, the hum of the bar faded behind us, replaced by the distant sounds of the city. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, sending a slight shiver through me, but it wasn’t just the cold that made my chest feel tight. Spencer walked beside me, his hands tucked into his pockets, his head slightly bowed. There was a quiet tension between us, a palpable shift that neither of us had dared to fully acknowledge.

“Spencer,” I said softly, breaking the silence.

He glanced at me, his hazel eyes warm but uncertain. “Yeah?”

“I meant what I said earlier. Thank you.” I stopped walking, turning to face him. “Not just for stepping in tonight, but… for always looking out for me.”

He stopped too, his gaze locking with mine. “You don’t have to thank me for that,” he said, his voice low. “I’d do it a hundred times over.”

The sincerity in his words sent a wave of warmth through me, and for a moment, I forgot about the chill in the air. “You mean that?”

“Of course I do.” His voice was steady, but his expression softened, as if he were letting a part of himself show that he usually kept hidden. “You mean… so much to me.”

My breath caught in my throat. He’d always been careful with his words, always measured. But there was nothing calculated about the way he was looking at me now, like he was on the edge of saying something that could change everything.

“You mean a lot to me too, Spencer,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, that shy, vulnerable smile that made my heart ache. “You know, I’m not… the best at expressing how I feel. But tonight, when that guy wouldn’t leave you alone…” He paused, running a hand through his hair, clearly searching for the right words. “It made me realize I can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way about you. I can’t keep pretending I don’t—”

“Spencer,” I interrupted gently, stepping closer to him.

He froze, his eyes searching mine. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to make this awkward or ruin anything, but I—”

“You’re not ruining anything,” I said, cutting him off again. “I promise.”

He blinked, his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

So, I took the leap for both of us. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted you to say something like this?” I asked, my cheeks warming as I admitted it out loud.

His eyes widened slightly. “You have?”

I nodded, a soft laugh escaping me. “You’re kind of oblivious, you know that?”

A small, embarrassed smile tugged at his lips. “I’ve been told that before.”

I stepped even closer, so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from him. “You don’t have to be afraid, Spencer. I feel the same way.”

The tension between us seemed to shift then, no longer heavy with uncertainty but something lighter, warmer, filled with hope. He let out a breath he must have been holding, and his shoulders relaxed slightly.

“Can I—” He hesitated, his voice trailing off.

“Yes,” I said softly, not needing him to finish the question.

He didn’t move right away, his eyes scanning my face as if committing every detail to memory. Then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against my cheek. His touch was gentle, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver down my spine.

And then he kissed me.

It was soft at first, tentative, like he was still afraid of crossing a line. But as I leaned into him, threading my fingers through his hair, the kiss deepened. There was something intoxicating about the way he kissed—equal parts tender and desperate, like he’d been waiting for this moment just as long as I had.

When we finally pulled apart, we were both breathless, our foreheads resting against each other. His hand was still on my cheek, his thumb brushing lightly against my skin.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

I smiled, my heart swelling at the vulnerability in his words. “You don’t have to do anything, Spencer. You’re enough just as you are.”

His eyes searched mine, and for the first time, I saw something in them I’d never noticed before—hope.

“I don’t want this to change anything,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” I promised, my voice steady. “This just makes what we have even better.”

He smiled then, a genuine, unguarded smile that made my chest feel warm. “I don’t know how I got so lucky.”

I laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair out of his face. “I think I’m the lucky one.”

We stood there for a while, wrapped in the quiet of the night and the warmth of each other. The world around us seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us in this perfect, fragile moment.

And for the first time in what felt like forever, I wasn’t afraid of what came next.

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