#I’m trying to find a style for when I’m not going slowly

[daynascullys]

do your fav lyric from your fav taylor swift song from your least fav album!! and if your up to doing two then any lyric from another artist you love!

Thanks for asking :’)

This isn’t my favorite song from the album but it’s one of my favorite lyrics ♥️

please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

and from “Orpheus” by Sara Bareilles

if the bottom drops out, I hope my love was someone else’s solid ground

[rs-hawk]

Going INSANE thinking about this post by @curiousmons :

So here we go!!

Your Centaur Boyfriend being embarrassed when he explains he’s never cum before because he can’t reach “down there”. You’re stunned and ask why he hasn’t told you before. You tell him you’d have at least given him a handjob before now so he could get some release! He sheepishly tells you that he almost didn’t tell you at all because he’s worried he won’t last long and he doesn’t want to disappoint you.

After a soft heart to heart session, you explain that even if he doesn’t last long, at least you’ll be doing it together so it’ll be wonderful. The kissing starts off slow and soft with him stooping down and you on your tiptoes. Then him pulling off your shirt, and you eagerly finishing undressing yourself when he hesitates. He eases you onto your back on the soft (but itchy, not that you’d tell him) hay he made into a bed for you. His front legs are tucked under him as he goes back to kissing you, pumping his fingers in and out of you slowly.

Despite never having been with anyone before, he knows that his massive cock would hurt you if you’re not prepped, which is another reason you two had waited for so long. Now you could easily take his fingers, and you were already soaking wet for him. His cock is so hard that he’s already leaking precum and it’s almost painful. He wants to be inside of you so badly.

“Please,” you whisper, breaking the kiss to look up at him.

He bites his lip before nodding slightly. He stands back up and you adjust, pushing yourself into doggy style so it’s easier for him to push into you. You have to help guide him a bit since you have to be so far under him, but as soon as the tip of his cock is pushed inside of you, he starts going crazy.

He jerks his hips towards you, nearly impaling you with his massive cock in one thrust. You yelp, not expecting that sudden and deep of a movement, but you don’t pull away.

“I’m sorry baby. You feel so good. I’m sorry,” he groans as he continues to slam in and out of you, driving you into the floor.

His cock slams deep inside of you, stretching you out in the most delicious way. He bullies your cervix in a way you never thought possible, his hot and slick precum already coating your womb. You whimper, trying to find something to hold onto. When you start to squirm, he uses his front hooves to keep you in place, setting them lightly on you, of course not his full weight, just so he can continue to cram himself into you.

Once he’s close, his thrusting becomes more sporadic. He thrusts roughly and sloppily, almost pulling out in his haste to push back inside of you. You can feel him throbbing and pulsing inside of you, every thick inch of that cock stretching you out even more as he already was.

“You’re so good baby. So tight. So wet,” he whines, picking up the pace even more.

“Keep going,” is all you can manage to get out between the rough assaults on your body.

He complies until he crams himself as deeply as he can inside of you, pumping you full of hot, thick ropes of cum. You can feel it filling you, extending your stomach and spilling out onto your thighs and the floor under you even as he’s still deep inside of you.

His front legs tremble before he buckles them, pulling them off of you so he can support himself on them. You can hear his deep breathing and panting as he recovers, his cock still throbbing inside of you.

“That was amazing baby,” you sigh, almost dreamily, before you try to wiggle out from under him.

However, he’s already rutting into you, grinding his hips against yours with his cock still buried inside of you. “Just one more baby. Please please let me do it just one more time.”

[alaia777]

jacked and kind?

ೃ༄ barou;

you giggled while you set your phone on the drawer in your room, you don’t know how you managed to convince your boyfriend to do this trend with you, but you did.

“alright, all you just have to do is pick me up and put me on your shoulder.”

“whatever.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

suddenly, you’re lifted off the ground and put on his shoulder. you start to laugh, not because of the situation, but because he’s flexing his muscles in front of the camera. you put your hands on his hair and tug a little. “you’re so corny. stop flexing, who are you trying to impress?”

the next second, you’re thrown onto the bed, and he’s leaving the room, mumbling something about how a king never tries to impress anyone.

ೃ༄ bachira;

“pleaseeeee. i promise i won’t drop you.”

“bachira, no. you’re 5’9. i know for sure you’re going to drop me.”

your boyfriend was trying to convince you to do this tiktok trend he saw. you trusted him, but the last time you tried one of his ideas, you found out he’d been using your toothbrush. you didn’t speak to him for days after that.

“i’m going to stay in front of the bed so, in case something happens, you’ll fall on something soft.”

you sigh, already regretting this, and move in front of him so he can do this stupid thing.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you feel his hands grab your hips as he slowly lifts you onto his shoulder. you cling to him tightly, silently promising that if you’re going down, he’s coming with you. when you catch his reflection in his phone, you can’t help but smile—his expression is so adorable, so focused.

until you feel him slowly backing away.

you squint in confusion as you see him shift his weight.

“what are y—”

before you can finish your sentence, you realize exactly what he’s about to do.

ೃ༄ shidou;

you watch as your boyfriend struggles to prop his phone up, grumbling under his breath. “stupid piece of—”

“no cursing, ryusei.”

he mumbles something about not telling him what to do, and honestly, you’d snap back at him, but considering he just woke you up to do some random trend he saw on his phone, you let it slide.

“alright, stop making faces and look at the camera.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

before you have time to process that thought, he hoists you up onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing. grinning like an idiot, he spins around, showing off different angles to the camera.

when the video finally ends, you wait for him to put you down. but, of course, he has other plans.

“ryusei, what are you doing now?”

he strides toward the kitchen, still carrying you effortlessly. “you’re going to watch me make a sandwich. ratatouille style.”

ೃ༄ rin;

“this is stupid.”

“you are stupid. shut up and do what i just told you.”

rin couldn’t believe he agreed to do some brainless trend like this. one second, he was watching a football match on tv, and the next, he was standing in front of your phone’s camera, looking unimpressed.

“what if i decide to just drop you?”

“then you’ll be sleeping outside in your car.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

for a moment, he didn’t move at all, like he was genuinely refusing to take part in your trend. but just as you turned around to give him a piece of your mind, he scooped you off the ground and threw you over his shoulder. he was so stiff you almost felt bad for making him do it, but when the video ended, he surprised you—his hand gently caressed your knee, and he leaned into you.

“don’t post it.”

ೃ༄ isagi;

you were laughing so hard your sides were hurting. isagi looked like he was on the verge of tears, all because, during this trend, you accidentally hit him in the crotch with your sole, making him lose his balance.

“stop laughing, i could’ve hurt you.”

“isagi, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to.”

“you know, this apology would’ve been better if you weren’t laughing like that.”

you wanted to go and hug him, but he seemed more focused on restarting the video. it was clear he really wanted to get this one right.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you sat up straight, waiting for him to pick you up again. and that’s exactly what he did. this time, he made sure your legs were far from his crotch as he lifted you onto his shoulder. when the video ended, he gently lowered you into his arms, holding you close and murmuring how much he appreciated you.

ೃ༄ i hope you guys like this one :’)

ೃ༄ also, my requests are open so please let me know if you guys have any suggestions !

[mywritersmind]

OBVIOUSLY OBLIVIOUS - LN4

summary : she thought the hoodie was her brothers, she should have known since the comfort was too good.

listen up : hating on landos style. fewtrell!sister. messages!!

word count : 729

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m practically imprinted into the couch, flipping another page of my book and yawning. I’m at my brother's house for the weekend but after a night of streaming, he’s probably passed out in his room.

It’s early but I still have my makeup on from the night before. I went clubbing with my friends and was desperately craving a good book in my pajamas with a side of ice cream.

I sit comfortably with Billie Eilish playing on low and my brother's hoodie on me. It’s an extremely good find, soft and cute which is rare for Max. It’s got a red heart on the back with black letters that say ‘MAISON DE MONACO’ No clue what that is but it’s fancy.

I jump when I hear my brother's door creek open, “Jesus, you scared me.” I shake my head and look back down at my book.

The voice who answers isn’t my brother, “Sorry, forgot Max’s house is a billion years old.” Yet the familiarity washes over me.

“I forgot you were here.” I look over to Lando who’s filling up his water in the kitchen. It had completely slipped my mind that Lando was staying here for the night.

“Wow, thanks.” He turns around, drinking his water while looking at me funny.

“You alright?” I ask the boy as nods slowly.

“I like your hoodie.” He says, nodding down to the gray fabric.

“Thanks, It’s Max’s.” I shrug and look back to my book, “Quite nice. Didn't know my brother had such good taste.”

Lando laughs a bit, “Maybe my style is rubbing off on him.” I roll my eyes as he watches me closely.

I don’t mean to laugh as hard as I do, “Keep telling yourself that, love.” I shake my head as his eyes narrow.

“What, you don’t like my style?” I close my book and sigh.

“It’s just… very driver-like.” I say as he frowns, his eyebrows furrowing.

“You don’t like any driver's style?” He takes a seat at the end of the couch.

“No! I love Lewis’ and Zhou’s! You just… don’t have that. Max is probably being influenced by Pietra.” I lean my head back on the cushions, my body facing his.

“Maybe I need a girlfriend then.” He says easily, tilting his head against the pillow and looking at me with eyes that I could lose myself in.

I shake off the feeling, opening my book back up, “Would probably help.” He side eyes me.

We stay silent then, I fall back into my story as he scrolls on his phone. Still, Lando can’t be focused on anything for too long (odd considering the whole two hour non stop driving thing) so he bugs me two minutes after we stopped speaking.

He’s staring at me. I can feel the gaze of his blue eyes while I'm reading. I glance up to meet his eyes, “Is there something on my face?”

His smile sneaks back onto his face, “No. You just…” He licks his lips and shakes his head, “Sorry. I gotta go- Have a good day, Y/N.”

“Bye…?” he’s out the door before I even finish the word. I just shrug and try to ignore the tingles in my fingertips.

An hour passes and my brother's door opens for the second time this morning, letting out a loud and long groan. “Good Morning to you too.” I laugh as Max falls onto the couch, his face in the pillows. “Hey, I’m stopping by the store so text me what crisps yo-”

His head pops up and interrupts me, “What are you wearing?” He makes a face which immediately concerns me.

“What?”

“Your hoodie. I know it’s not yours because it’s like Fifty Five Thousand pounds.” My jaw drops.

I slam my book shut, “This isn’t yours?”

“Christ, Y/N how much money do you think I make? What’d you do, rob the store?” He’s being serious and I feel ill.

“Max. I found this in your room.” His confusion turns into humor when the realization hits and he breaks into laughter.

“You’re-”

I don’t want him to say it, “No.”

He seals my fate while laughing, “You're wearing Landos hoodie.” He says befitting shoving his face back into a pillow, muffling his giggle.

I roll my eyes, “You child!” I throw a pillow at him and grab my phone.

[threestarsinline]

The Gala

Jason Todd x reader one-shot

Summary: It was supposed to be simple. Just accompany Jason to the party. It was also supposed to be quick. Just go in, talk to a few people, and out. But then, you find yourself meeting your boyfriend's family.

Word Count: 9.3K

Category: Fluff (established relationship) and a tiny, tiny little bit of angst

Warnings: Rich people?? Bahahsjsjs Mentions of alcohol

Author’s note: My Wayne gala fic debut (with a super original title, I know jskdks), hope you like it!

You look at yourself once again in the mirror. The truth is that you love the image that looks back at you. You feel comfortable and true to yourself, as well as beautiful. The dress that you’re wearing playing a big part in it. Your fingers slowly trace the hem of the bright red of the soft fabric.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You know that the dress probably won’t live up to the standard of the women that will be at the place but for you, it’s beautiful and elegant, making you feel like a seven year old girl wearing her favorite princess dress and giving you the confidence that you will need tonight.

Even if the style of the dress is not as chic or as sophisticated as others, you’re sure that the red will stand out. The thought increases your nerves. You don’t usually wear red but when you saw this dress you knew that you had to buy it, you could easily see yourself in it. And also, you couldn’t wait to see Jason’s reaction.

You knew that he would love it, or so you hoped. He always liked it when you wore red, or anything for that matter. No matter how you looked he always looked at you with the same silly smile and caring eyes. But there was something in wanting to see him swoon all over you. You smile thinking of him. Even if the night ends in a disaster, you both will be at each other's side.

Just as you do a little spin to see the movement of your skirt just a bit up your knees, the doorbell rings. When you open the door Jason is looking around stressfully, breathing heavily, his hands alternating on running through his hair as if trying to fix it and adjusting his tie. He doesn’t seem to notice that you have opened the door.

“Hey,” you say softly. He turns to you.

“Hi,” he says breathlessly in return, and by the way that he’s taking you in, you can tell that it isn’t for the same reason as before. You look down shyly and put a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You then take him in, and to say that you’re not ready for the full sight in front of you is an understatement. Jason was already handsome but to see him in a suit… Your insides are doing crazy things.

“Y/N, you look… incredible.”

“Thank you.” You take a small step and on your toes you give him a kiss on the cheek. “I have to say that you look great. I think that I could get used to seeing you in a suit.” He smiles warmly but suddenly he seems to come out of his daze.

“Listen, I’m so sorry I’m late and that I kept you waiting. I got caught up before and then this stupid tie wouldn’t work with me and…” You shush him softly with a kiss and then shake your head.

“Don’t worry, I just got finished too.”

He sighs in relief, and then, with a life of their own, before you can help yourself, your hands lift to fix his hair to give it his usual style but less messy, although as always, the white streak stays as rebel as ever. Your hands slide down his neck to the lapels of his jacket and then adjust his tie that was crooked to the left.

“You know how to do that?” he says, referring to the tie.

“Not really. I have just always wanted to do that. You know, like in movies and so.” You can’t help but giggle a bit while you say that.

“Well, that makes two of us.” He takes your hands and places a kiss on them. You sigh happily, the soft gesture making you melt. You’re sure that this man is going to be the death of you. The care and affection with which he always touches and looks at you was both deadly and invigorating. “Ready?”

“I think so.”

“Because if not, you know that I wouldn’t mind one bit to stay here and take a more careful look at this gorgeous dress.” His hands find your waist and after a peck on your lips, his own meet your neck.

“I know. And that’s why we have to get going, we’re already late.” You put a hand in his chest to place some distance with the temptation of his lips, that now are pouting.

“‘A queen is never late, everyone else is simply early,’” he deadpans.

A laugh threatens to escape from your throat. “You just did not.”

“What?” he says feigning innocence, but the smirk on his lips gives him away.

“You just did not quote the queen of Genovia,” you say amused.

“Okay, first, Julie Andrews is always right. And second, you were the one that showed me that masterpiece so, you should have seen it coming.” He’s grinning from ear to ear. You wish that you could always see him like this. So happy and carefree.

“Can't say that you’re not right,” you reply while hugging him, resting your head on his chest and letting his calming scent surround you.

He then takes your face in his hands and with your noses touching he whispers, “I love you.” 

Your smile at those words never faltered. “I love you too.”

When you two reach the manor Jason drives past the main gate and goes directly to the secondary one that leads to the back entrance of the manor in order to avoid all the fancy cars and limos that litter the road of the main one.

Even from outside you can tell that the party is already in full swing, the windows of the main living room that in these cases often transforms into a dance hall, the only ones with light in them and cluttered with people.

Jason parks the car but his hands do not leave the steering wheel. His grip tightens and untightens around it as he takes a deep breath and looks towards the back door of the manor. You know well how even though the manor is a home to Jason, in events like this it almost feels like a cage.

“Hey,” you whisper softly while you take his hands into yours. Immediately, Jason’s eyes leave the manor and turn towards you. “It’s gonna be okay. I’m here. And it’ll be quick, we just have to show face for a little while, just like we talked about. And then as fast as we’re in, we’ll be out,” you reassure him while softly rubbing the back of his hands with your thumbs.

Jason gulps and nods, trying to will the nerves away, though his hands have stopped flexing and now lay relaxed in your grip ever since you touched them.

“Or we can leave right now. Forget all this. Spend the evening alone, just you and me. Maybe even some Batburger?” you tease with a smile, letting him know that he always has an out with you. Your calming words seem to work as a small chuckle leaves him and he lifts your hands to kiss them once again.

He shakes his head.

You tilt yours. “You sure?”

“Yeah. I just needed a moment. Besides, if I don’t go in I’ll never hear the end of it. Also, if we get this out of the way now, we won’t have to come to another one for a long while. And like you said, it’ll be quick.”

You nod and give his hands an encouraging squeeze. “Exactly. And remember, if you want to leave early, you just tell me.” 

He nods, a lot more sure of himself than just a moment ago. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go,” you echo.

Jason gets out of the car and you know better than to try and get out yourself, having learned in the very early stages of your relationship that if Jason can help it, you will never have to open a door again. And like always, your door opens and he extends a hand to help you out.

Despite the temperature dropping slightly during the night with the summer reaching its end, it’s a very nice evening. A soft breeze grazes your arms and the cut of your dress but it’s not enough to make you feel cold, mainly due to the warm hand that settles on your lower back. In the sky, the stars that would be impossible to see downtown accompany the moon in illuminating the night.

You two make your way through the gravel path that leads to the back door hand in hand, giving each other courage for the night that awaits ahead.

Once inside, it’s like entering another world entirely. Chatter and glass clinks fill the air and you’re just glad that at least this way your entrance to the party won’t make that much of a fuss as you would have done if you had used the main door.

“I was starting to think that you weren’t going to appear, Master Jason.”

At the sound of the voice both you and Jason stop dead in your tracks near the kitchen, almost like two kids getting caught trying to sneak out instead of sneaking in.

“Alfred!” Jason greets him exaggeratedly, trying to distract from the fact that you two have been caught arriving late. The British man can’t help but mirror Jason’s big smile, even as it breaks his teasing smirk. You smile as you watch them hug and then Alfred turns to you.

“Oh, and you’ve brought Miss Y/N as well! So great to see you again, dear,” he says as he also gives you a quick hug.

“You too, Alfred,” you reply with a smile. “Though it’s just Y/N, please.”

“You know I’m not going to do that, Miss Y/N.” The crinkles of the butler’s smile reminding you that trying to argue with him was a futile attempt.

You had only met him once before but that had been enough to get to know each other quite well and to already care for each other.

You had met him some weeks before, when Jason took you to the manor for the very first time one weekend as a kind of romantic getaway, as it had been left deserted and empty by Alfred and Bruce due to a business/Batman trip and Tim and Damian were away with their respective friends. It was an opportunity like no other.

It had been a wonderful long summery weekend, spent cooking together, lounging in the pool while sharing lazy kisses in the water with your arms and legs wrapped around him, his hands holding you as the sun set behind you, and watching movies in the home theater. You had never felt more at peace or relaxed.

And then, Alfred had come back a couple of days early. You and Jason had been cooking lunch (well, Jason had been cooking while you admired him perched on the counter), when Alfred entered, surprised to see anyone in the manor. After the initial surprise, friendly introductions had been made since from all of the members of his family, Alfred was the only one that Jason wasn’t wary of you meeting.

Jason could only thank whatever was out there that it had been Alfred who had come back early and not Bruce. He wasn’t ready to handle that yet.

Alfred joined you two for lunch and even though you were slightly nervous at the beginning at meeting a member of Jason’s family, you were glad that it was Alfred since he instantly made you feel welcome and at ease. Jason had watched your conversations with a small smile, glad to see and not surprised at all that you got along so well.

After lunch, Alfred left you two be to enjoy the rest of the day as well as the next day since it was your last in the manor. However, he still insisted on making you two breakfast the next day and you got to try Alfred’s famous pancakes. There was no doubt from where Jason had gotten his excellent culinary skills.

You still crossed paths with Alfred a couple more times but they hadn’t been awkward at all. During that short time of seeing you and Jason interact, Alfred saw just how happy you two made and loved each other. He could clearly see the certainty of your relationship and he couldn’t be happier for the young boy that had once been the second Robin. He totally deserved the happiness that you brought him.

And as Alfred insists on calling you Miss Y/N, with the sounds of the party drifting into the kitchen, just like he had done the first time that he met you, the same thought crosses his mind.

That the only way in which he would ever call you something other than that would be when you became Mrs. Todd. Something that he was certain would happen from the very first moment that he saw you laugh with Jason before he had made his presence known that summer afternoon. A truth as plain as the sun.

Now, seeing that the British man isn’t giving up upon your insistence on calling you just by your first name, you sigh defeatedly. “Alright.”

At that, Alfred smiles and turns back to Jason. “Your brothers will be glad to see you’ve been able to make it.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “Sure.”

You smile at his antics and squeeze his hand. The thing was that at each Wayne gala, as it was to be expected, a few members of the family should be present. But considering the fact that all, literally all, the Waynes hated the galas, having Waynes at a gala had long been a recurring problem.

No one still talks about the time that at one of them, not a single Wayne had appeared. The press had had a field day with it and it took the Waynes months to repair the damage.

For a rich family in Gotham that lead a double life as vigilantes, they sure hated the appearances and masks that came with having to entertain the socialites. You have always found the fact extremely entertaining.

And so, in order to avoid the great gala disaster, as Jason had explained to you, they had come up with a system. Taking turns attending the galas and doing so in different groups as they all knew that no one, absolutely no one should have to suffer through a gala alone (except Bruce, who sometimes had to go alone, downsides of being the face of the company).

For example, a group could be Bruce, Dick and Damian (who, lucky for him, has never had to experience the torture of going to one alone, still being a kid and all), or Jason and Dick, but never just Jason and Tim alone, the two always looking to make an escape and neither of them keeping the other in check. However, if they were accompanied by someone else it was manageable. The pairings and different groupings going on and on.

But tonight, however, it was the turn for all four of the batboys to be there, Bruce out on a mission. And so here you were, having offered to accompany your boyfriend when he told you that he had to go to the gala. Jason had said that it wasn’t necessary but you could see the relief in his eyes when you assured him that you wanted to go with him, knowing how hard these things could be sometimes.

Though not liking large crowds either, you were no better. What a pair did you two make. But you knew that together, you could face this night. Now, apart from the overall challenge of enduring the night, came the very real possibility of finally meeting Jason’s brothers. It wasn’t that Jason was trying to keep you away from them or hiding you, they did know about you, it’s just that it was a delicate issue that he wanted to handle at his own time and when he was ready.

You understood that and of course never pushed him on the topic. You knew that if it were for Jason, he would scream that you two were together a hundred times a day, he had no problem holding your hand in public nor kissing you until you felt dizzy in the middle of the street.

Either way, when you two realized that you could meet them, Jason came to the conclusion that it wasn’t so bad. That way they’ll stop pestering him about meeting you and you would do it in a more relaxed ambience than what a formal dinner with all of his family, including Bruce, could be, with all of their eyes fixed on you and asking you millions of questions. At least this way, with the gala, distractions were easy to come by if a quick escape was necessary.

So, if you met them, good. If you didn’t, good as well.

Though still, the nerves persisted.

After exchanging a couple of phrases more with Alfred, he returned to his duties at the party and with your arm looped through Jason’s, you stepped into the space that had been turned into a ballroom of sorts, all of Gotham’s elite there. Either to donate to a Wayne fundraiser (sadly, the least likely of them all), invest in Wayne Enterprises (more likely), drink (very likely), or to snoop around the mysterious Wayne manor and find out more about the peculiar family (the most likely of them all).

You have to say that you're impressed with what has been done with the space. Added chandeliers and carefully placed lamps give the room a golden glow, highlighting all the luxury of the attendees, from expensive watches, to even more expensive necklaces, and making all the glasses of champagne around the room sparkle.

On one side, a bar has been set up, on the other, on a small stage, musicians play for the dancing couples on the dance floor that has been put up in the center. And scattered around the room, high tables where people place their drinks and gather for conversations.

The lack of chairs does not go unnoticed, just a couple every few tables and the stools that surround the bar. The lack no doubt made deliberately, that way, no one would settle for long, either forcing them to mingle and spend some money on the gala or directly leave. The Waynes really do not like to have people in their house. You have to stifle a laugh at the thought, you could relate to that.

Though it makes perfect sense, given that no one wants too many people on the floor above the headquarters for Gotham’s vigilantes for long. You also know that in whatever way they can, they always try to have the galas either at Wayne Tower or at any other place, but sometimes, having one at the manor once in a while was inevitable.

You can’t help but tense up as you notice more and more people start to look towards you two. You don’t even notice that your anxious nature has gotten the better of you and that your grip on Jason’s arm has tightened until his other hand covers yours, the touch immediately grounding and soothing you. You look up at him and take a deep breath as his green eyes look at you encouragingly and gratefully, telling you that you can do this and that he’s thankful that you’re here with him.

You smile before squeezing his arm back and then you two plunge into battle. Showtime.

You make small talk with a few of the guests before approaching the bar to get something to drink. As you wait for your drinks you feel Jason lean down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m going to the bathroom real quick, I’ll be right back. You okay?”

You nod with a smile, telling him that it’s okay before he gives a quick kiss to your temple and then disappears into the crowd.

Your eyes scan the room as you take the refreshment that has been placed in front of you and take a sip, trying not to draw too much attention upon yourself while you wait. You’re no vigilante but as a person that prefers alone time, assessing the room before making any social interaction goes without saying. You’re even thinking of seeking Alfred and asking him if he needs help with anything when your eyes clock Jason again on the other side of the room, cornered by a bunch of socialites.

He has a pleasing smile on his face as he listens to what they’re telling him. To any other person, it might seem like he’s genuinely interested, but you can read him like a book. The corners of his smile are tense, apart from the fact that it doesn't reach his eyes, and his too constant nodding tells you how he is feigning the interest. His eyes find yours for a moment before returning to the lady speaking to him and in that split millisecond you can see how his smile turns real for you, before becoming fake once again.

You leave your glass on the counter of the bar to make your way to him and save him from the people crowding him when suddenly-

“Care for a dance?” a smooth voice says at your side.

You turn to decline when you’re met with eyes of a vibrant shade of blue, a boyish youth and mischief in them, but also slightly hardened with years of experience dealing with the worst of Gotham. His black hair is perfectly styled, a winning and charming smile on his lips and clad in a black suit with a bow tie that highlights all of his features. You can see how he’s a handsome man but still to you, he doesn’t hold a candle to Jason.

Of course you know who he is.

Gotham’s golden boy.

“Dick Grayson.”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” His smile widens and you realize that this is happening whether you want it or not. You’re meeting one of Jason’s brothers. Your eyes flick back to Jason but he’s no longer surrounded by the socialites. In fact, he’s nowhere to be found. He must’ve managed to escape somehow. Looks like you’re going to have to face this alone. You had even been starting to think that this moment wouldn’t come since you hadn’t seen any of Jason’s brothers since you arrived.

You turn back to Dick and he’s still in the exact same position, leaning with one arm on the bar, carefully watching you with a knowing smile. Everything in his demeanor open, easy.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,“ he says, extending his hand.

Your force your body to release the small tension that it has accumulated and with a small smile you shake his hand. “You too.”

“Glad to see that Jason hasn’t made you up. We were starting to doubt that you really existed,” he comments playfully.

You know that he isn’t intimidating you or trying to scare you, merely wanting to meet you, know more about Jason’s life, see the reason why he’s the happiest that they have ever seen him.

“I’m very real, yes.”

“So, how about that dance?”

You pause for a second. “I’m not the best dancer.”

“Come on, please. How am I supposed to get to know my new sister-in-law otherwise?”

“By just talking?”

He chuckles. “Alright, fair enough. How about this, how am I supposed to get to know my sister-in-law without gossiping rich people interrupting us over and over again?” Dick nods to the side and you see how a few of the guests are looking towards you two, no doubt about to walk up to you and force you to establish conversation.

“Lead the way,” you end up saying and Dick’s smile beams even more, his joyous nature and openness making you feel at ease. You feel like he’s trying to make this easy for you, knowing how awkward meeting your boyfriend’s family could be.

He then offers you his arm to guide you to the dance floor and in no time you’re joining all the couples waltzing around it.

“So… Y/N, tell me. What are your intentions with our dear Jaybird?” he jokes in mock seriousness while arching an eyebrow.

“Jaybird?” you ask, never having heard the nickname before but already liking it.

“Oh, Y/N, I have so many anecdotes to tell you. We’re going to have so much fun.”

You smile at the prospect of hearing stories about Jason. “Can’t wait. But to answer your question, my intentions are to just be with him. For as long as he wants me.”

Dick nods, as if you just confirmed something that he already knew. “I feel like that’s going to be a long time.” You feel your cheeks warm at his words. You really hope that it is too. Forever, if you can help it. “Though are you sure that you want to put up with him for so long? He can be insufferable,” he adds, and you chuckle.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Afterwards, he asks you about your job and your family, and you ask him about life in Blüdhaven. You’re glad for his easygoingness, allowing you to feel comfortable and a sense of camaraderie and friendship already between you. You’re also glad that you’re dancing since you’re sure that if you weren’t, conversation wouldn’t have flowed as easily without the privacy that it has given you.

“My turn, Grayson,” a voice suddenly speaks.

You two stop dancing and turn your heads to the side, and then slightly down to find a young boy. His dark combed back hair and his straight posture making him a shadow of his father, his green eyes looking up at you expectantly and his tan skin inherited from his mother. Talia al Ghul.

“No, it isn’t,” Dick replies. 

“Yes, it is,” Damian retorts, holding Dick’s gaze. It’s like they are challenging one another while also having a mental conversation.

Finally, Dick sighs. “Fine. But only if Y/N is okay with that."

“It’s alright,” you say softly.

“See?” Damian insists and Dick rolls his eyes. You smile at their interaction and then Dick turns back to you.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Y/N. It’s been really nice finally getting to talk to you.”

“Likewise.”

Dick squeezes your hands in goodbye before letting go, Damian taking his spot to dance with you. “See you around.” Dick says and you nod and watch as he takes his leave, until a throat clears in front of you and you begin dancing once again.

“You’re Todd’s girlfriend then? Y/L/N?”

“That’s me. You must be Damian. It’s nice to meet you.” Damian nods solemnly before staring intensely at you, as if deciphering you. His movements are graceful and elegant, even more purposeful than Dick’s even. You suppose that all the grace must have something to do with growing up with ninjas and practically being raised like royalty.

Not one to back out, you hold his gaze and stare back at him. He’s shorter than you but you have no doubt that in no time he’ll be taller than you.

“You’re a great dancer, Damian,” you finally say and you can see how something in him changes, no longer putting up the intimidating facade, allowing himself to relax slightly.

“Thanks. Mother taught me.”

“That’s nice. I hope I’m not making you look too much like a fool.”

Damian shrugs. “You’re alright.”

You smile, taking his version of a compliment as a win. Then you take another look around the room, wondering where Jason could be. Maybe Alfred has asked for his help on something. You turn back to Damian, who looks around the space uninterested.

“I’m guessing you don’t like these galas much,” you say, trying to get him to open up a bit more.

“They are… a responsibility.”

“Yeah, well, I’d much rather prefer doing something else. Like going to the aquarium or the museum.” Damian’s eyes shot back to yours like a flash, a small sparkle in them.

Bingo.

You try to contain your triumphant smile. “Have you seen the new art exhibit? Jason told me that you like drawing,” you continue.

And just like that, whatever it was that Damian was wary of disappears as you two make conversation, discussing different painters, Damian’s art and your own hobbies. Then, for a second, Damian pauses in thought, like a jury about to deliver their decision, making you wonder what he’s about to say. 

“You’re cool. Todd was right about you,” he finally says as the current song ends and you two come to a stop.

You smile softly in thanks. “Glad to hear that.”

“Though I’m not yet quite sure what you could be seeing in Todd. You’re clearly way cooler than him.”

That makes you chuckle and you don’t miss how a smile twitches on Damian’s face.

“Thanks, I guess? Though he’s not that bad. Not at all.”

Damian just shrugs at your statement but you have the feeling that behind all the picking, there’s fondness and a brotherly bond between him and Jason.

“Anyway, I have to go feed my animals. It was nice meeting you, Y/N.” Your jaw almost drops, but you manage to avoid it before your lips twist into a wide smile.

Damian’s calling you by your first name. When Jason has told you that he never does that with anyone. Not even Dick.

“You too, Damian.”

He nods in goodbye before going towards the exit of the ballroom. You leave the dance floor and take a deep breath. Well, that wasn’t so bad. It was fun, actually.

You decide that you need some air in order to take all of the recent events in and head towards the open patio door that looks out to the gardens. Even though you can still hear the party, as the door is still open, the change of ambience is very much welcomed. You inhale the fresh air before releasing a content sigh at having a moment for yourself.

You lean on the railing surrounding the few steps that separate you from the grass as you gaze up at the clear sky, the moon illuminating the patio and the late summer evening breeze creating ripples along the surface of the pool. It’s a nice break from the scorching nights that Gotham can have along the summer. You can’t wait for the fall.

As you let yourself relax in the quiet evening, you think back to what has just happened. You just met two of Jason’s brothers. And everything went well. You still can’t believe it. You let out a soft chuckle at the thought that your social skills haven’t failed you this time. Despite usually needing a lot of time with a person to open up and build trust, you’re surprised at how easy it came to you with Dick and Damian, already getting along and having the feeling that you’re going to become good friends. Family, someday.

Maybe it’s due to Dick’s easygoing personality or the things that you have in common with Damian but you feel like it’s more than that. The knowledge that these kind of connections don’t come easy for them either, given all the secrets that they have to keep and the fact that they don’t have to tiptoe around you. The fact that you all love Jason Todd dearly.

You’re just glad that you click with them as well as you did all that time ago with Jason. Who, by the way, is still MIA. It’s been a good while since you saw him. Where could he be?

“Do you want some?” a voice suddenly says, interrupting your thoughts and making you turn towards its source.

Well, looks like the meeting-your-boyfriend’s-family night isn’t over.

Tim Drake stands on the doorway, holding two glasses of champagne. He’s wearing a suit as well but his appearance isn’t as neat as Dick’s or Damian’s. His hair is slightly tousled and his tie is loosened around his neck. His blue eyes, a shade lighter than Dick’s, look kindly at you.

“Sure, thanks,” you say as you take the glass that he offers you. The truth was that you weren’t a big drinker, only having a few sips on scattered special occasions during the year, like champagne on New Year’s Day or the rare instances in which you found yourself in glamorous parties like this.

You take a small sip of the sparkly drink as Tim comes to stand next to you.

“So, what do you think of the gala? Having fun?”

“It’s alright. You all do know how to throw a party,” you answer.

“What can I say? If there’s one thing we’re good at is appearances,” Tim says jokingly.

You nod with a smile while taking another sip, though this time you can’t help the grimace that you make at the growing bitter taste of alcohol in your mouth.

“Not a fan?”

“Not really,” you respond honestly, deciding to leave the glass on the outdoor table for now.

“Me neither, actually.”

And then, your eyes widen when, just like nothing, Tim literally throws the content of his glass, his untouched and what you’re sure of is a very, very, expensive champagne towards the grass and leaves his now empty glass next to yours.

Seriously, what was wrong with rich people?

You shake the thought as you and Tim start making friendly conversation. He’s telling you a story in which Jason faceplanted once during training, when it strikes you that it really is amazing how all the Robins somehow actually physically look like family despite not being blood-related. And it’s not just the coincidence that all of them have clear colored eyes and dark hair, but rather the way in which they hold themselves, something in their stance and attitude giving them a similar aura. An aura of shared hardships and experiences.

“I’m sorry that it took so long for us to meet,” Tim says after a small moment of peaceful silence. You shake your head and you can feel the shift in the air as his expression turns more serious and continues talking before you can say anything.

“I know that we can be a lot, and you haven’t even met all of us.” You tilt your head, listening, waiting to see where he’s going with this. “Things between us and Jason are good, though of course, like with any family, there are some rough patches.” He pauses for a second, leaning with his hip on the metal railing while crossing his arms. “We really wanted to meet you and we feared that something that we hadn’t realized had been going on with Jason and that he was retreating again by refusing to introduce you to us.”

You shake your head again. “It’s not that at all, Tim, I promise. Things are good. He just gets doubtful sometimes and needs to take things at his own time.”

Tim nods, letting you know that he understands. “I’m just sorry that we boarded you like this, we thought it might be easier taking the pressure out of it. Instead of having a formal family dinner or something, just meet you today in case that Jason decided to bring you. All in all, I’m glad we did, we probably wouldn’t have met you for a lot longer, probably until it was strictly necessary, if we hadn’t intervened.”

You’re processing all the information when before you can reply, you finally hear Jason’s voice again.

“Y/N!” he calls as he approaches you after spotting you outside. “I’m so, so sorry for leaving you alone. I was ambushed by the guests before going to the bathroom, then Alfred asked me to go help him with something in the kitchen and then Dick couldn’t fucking wait to ask me something about a case. It was just one thing after the other, I’m so sorry,” he rambles, a hand running through his hair in distress, knowing how you hate this kind of events as much as him.

Just as he finishes his rant, he finally reaches you and as he takes your hands in his, you can visibly see how his distressed state morphs into a relieved one just by being next to you. It’s like during your unexpected time apart Jason had been underwater the whole time and has just been finally allowed to come up for air to the surface and fill his lungs just by seeing you and being near you again.

You just shake your head and gently bring a hand to the nape of his neck to press your foreheads together so that he can ground himself and focus on you, showing him that you’re okay. You just know he’s feeling guilty for leaving you on your own when you two promised to be together to face the night.

“It’s okay,” you say softly in a low voice, trying to calm him.

And then, after connecting the dots between what Tim and Jason have just said, everything clicks. It’s not a coincidence that you’ve met Jason’s brothers one right after the other and that Jason just so conveniently had been missing from your side to prevent that from happening. You can’t help the small smile that pulls at your lips upon realizing what has happened, finding the Waynes’ antics and dramaticness quite entertaining.

“And don’t worry, I had company,” you add.

And just as you say that, you can see how Jason feels movement to his right and turns his head like a hawk to find Tim shifting on his feet. Jason hadn’t seen him earlier since you were the only one visible through the open door and once outside, Tim’s side of the terrace was covered in shadows.

You see the exact moment in which Jason’s gaze hardens staring at Tim, realizing just exactly what had actually happened, all of his family plotting to distract him so that they could meet you. You know that Jason isn’t actually angry, just slightly annoyed from the ruse and from being kept away from you, and now he’s channeling all of that towards Tim, making it seem bigger than what it actually is.

“Tim…” Jason says through gritted teeth in a threatening tone as he separates himself from you and starts stomping towards Tim. It’s almost comically funny how Tim immediately scrambles and bolts to the other side of the terrace, putting the outdoor table between him and Jason, extending his arms in front of him to protect himself as if he was some defenseless animal and not a well-trained vigilante.

You almost have to stifle a laugh.

Sibling dynamics at its finest.

“Listen, Jason, I-” Tim starts to plead his case but before Jason gets too far away from you, you grab his hand again. And it’s incredible the way in which Jason turns towards you and immediately his posture softens. Tim doesn’t waste the opportunity and escapes into the gala again, leaving you and Jason alone.

“It’s alright, they just wanted to meet me,” you say and Jason sighs, deciding to let the matter go and just come back to your arms, his hands on your waist, giving a small subconscious squeeze.

“Yes, but they had no right to play with us,” he answers, pressing your foreheads together once again.

“I know. But, hey,” you lift your hand to push some hair away from his forehead, “nothing bad happened. I’m still here.”

Jason nods and his gaze softens before closing his eyes, relishing in your touch. You close your eyes as well and you two stay in your embrace for a moment. Letting the night envelop you, surrounding yourselves with the evening sounds of the faded chatter from the party, the breeze rustling the bushes, the water in the pool, the night time insects and an owl in the distance.

“I think it’s time for us to leave,” Jason finally says, looking at you once again, having had enough of the social night.

“Yes,” you wholeheartedly agree, wanting to have your boyfriend all for yourself.

With that said, Jason nods, kisses your forehead and takes your hand firmly in his in order to not lose you again and you two make your way out of the gala. You don’t even bother to say goodbye to anybody. As you two leave, on the side of the ballroom, Dick, Tim, Damian and Alfred all stand in line, watching you fondly, glad to finally have met you and seen how happy Jason is with you. Before disappearing from view you give them a small wave and they smile.

You still have to meet Bruce, but that’s a problem for another day.

When you finally get home and Jason closes the door behind you, the two of you having already decided that he would spend the night at your apartment, you feel a weight lift off your shoulders. Finally home. You take a deep breath, shedding your social armor. Jason feels relief too at having finally left the manor, because even though the place will always be a home to him, the very definition of the word changed when he met you.

Jason watches you mesmerized as you leave your purse on a table and then move to the kitchen to drink a cold glass of water. He stands idly in your living room following your every move, a cast spell on him.

You’re beautiful.

Even though your hair isn’t as perfectly done as it was at the beginning of the evening and there’s a tired drag to your feet, you are. You always are.

He still can’t believe that you’re with him.

The way that you move around him as comfortably as you’d do if you were alone amazes him. It amazes him that you feel safe enough with him to just be yourself, not putting on any mask like you did in the gala with the attendees. He’s just so immensely grateful that you let him see you like this, open and being so undoubtedly yourself.

You’re saying something about cooking something quick or maybe ordering takeout when you brace yourself with a hand on the back of a chair to take off your heels with the other. But before you can take off your shoe, Jason softly grabs your hand, stopping you mid-rant.

He pulls you to follow him and you don’t put any kind of resistance, letting a comfortable silence fall upon you two. The only sounds the passing cars on the street and the steps of your heels on the floor. Once you reach the couch Jason makes you sit on it and you watch as he kneels in front of you and then, with a care and gentleness that no one would expect from the man known as Red Hood, he begins to undo the straps of your heels.

And there’s just something in the sight in front of you that makes your heart flip in your chest. How someone as big as him gets down on his knees before you, for once him being the one looking up at you instead of the other way around, almost as if worshiping the ground you walk on, as if you were the one that brought him back to life and not some mystical pit.

Now it’s you the one that watches him enchanted, wondering how you were so lucky as to have him love you. He takes one of your heels off, his eyes never leaving yours for a second, and then gives your free foot a slight massage to help the soreness out of it and you sigh in relief.

How is he even real?

And then, just before slipping the other heel off, with one of his warm hands on your lower calf, you watch with your heart in your throat how he kisses the inside of your knee.

You let out a small gasp and it’s crazy how much your heart is racing because you just know that he did it just for the heck of it, an act so loving, so simple, with no major intention rather than the selfish feeling of wanting to feel your skin against his lips.

But what raises goosebumps all throughout your body is not the action in itself, but rather the dark sparkle that crosses his eyes upon hearing your gasp, promising you something for later, for when he’s drawing shapes all across your body, as if tracing a map signaling a treasure. Except that the map itself is the treasure and he’s just taking his time exploring it, enjoying it, admiring it, worshiping it.

Jason then finally takes off your other heel and gives your foot the same quick massage treatment as the other one. When he’s done he gets back up on his feet and offers you a hand.

You take it and he pulls you to your feet again. And then, in the same silent comfort that has settled over you, with the same care and gentleness that Jason has treated you with, you slowly undo his tie, your gaze still fixed on his, saying a million different things that do not need to be said out loud. Most of them having to do with how much you love him.

After you discard the tie somewhere on the couch, you undo the first couple of buttons of his shirt, releasing him from the uptightness that comes with them and you feel his muscles relax even further under your hands. Next, you slip his jacket from his shoulders and he helps you take it off of him while he looks at you with the same intensity that you regard him with, reveling in how you take care of him.

Then, Jason rolls his sleeves up a bit his forearms before taking one of your hands in his and then, with his other arm around your waist, pulls you flush against his chest, practically fusing you two together, as if he could never pull you close enough, needing you as physically closer as possible, just as much as he needed oxygen, if not more.

“We didn’t have a chance to dance,” he whispers then with your faces inches from each other, still not disturbing the peaceful silence.

You hum in agreement and before you know it, you’re already swaying softly together in the living room, both of you with your eyes closed, your head resting on the crook of his neck and his on your hair. There’s no music but it doesn’t need to be, you feel so at peace and content, none of the opulent galas in the world could compare to a quiet evening with Jason.

You have no idea how much time you’ve spent there, barefoot and wrapped in Jason’s arms, swaying to the sounds of Gotham’s nightlife and your own heartbeats, only knowing that you would gladly spend forever like this.

“Thank you.”

You lift your head to find that Jason’s already looking at you.

“For what?” you ask in the same soft tone as him, a lilt of confusion in your voice.

“For coming today.” Before you can respond he keeps talking. “For sticking around. For putting up with my family.” A pause. His eyes leave yours to look to the side. He shrugs. “Just… for being with me, I guess.”

Your gaze softens and you feel a pang in your chest as you see Jason’s insecurities eating away at him. You stop your swaying and bring your hands to Jason’s face to make him focus on you, his hands moving instinctively to hold your waist. But Jason’s still avoiding your gaze and you hate the doubt that you see creeping in your favorite shade of green.

“I’m always going to be here. I’m right where I want to be. I love you. And I’m not putting up with anything, I want you. I want to be part of all the parts in your life,” you say, softly caressing his cheek with your thumb, having the suspicion that these doubts have something to do with meeting his brothers tonight.

“I know. I just…” Jason takes a deep breath closing his eyes, taking a moment to organize his thoughts before looking at you again. “I just can’t believe that you’re still here. I have this… this feeling that one way or another I’m going to screw up and lose you.”

You open your mouth to refute him but Jason shakes his head, presses his forehead to yours, closes his eyes to concentrate on what he wants to say, and continues before you can say anything. “And I know, trust me, I know that you love me and that you’re not going to leave. You show me every single day. I was just afraid that if neither myself nor me being Red Hood hadn’t driven you away, my family surely would.”

When Jason finishes he doesn’t move, his forehead still against yours and his eyes still closed, as if he doesn’t want to face what may come next, and his hands on your waist in the same position, if anything, holding onto you even tighter.

Holding onto you as if it were the last time, as if his confession would finally be the thing that would drive you away. You close your eyes as well for a second and take a deep breath.

How can you even begin to express how much you love this man?

Your heart is bursting with how much you feel for him. The love that you hold for him begins in the depth of it and as your heart pumps blood through your body, it also pumps that love through every single vein, nerve and cell in it. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes. It’s something that lies beneath every single movement and action that you make, to the point where you’re not sure if what sustains you are your bones or your love for him.

And that love of course, is interlaced with the pain that comes from watching the one you love hurt. You know that Jason is telling you the truth, that he knows that you’re not going anywhere and that you love him. But there’s this underlying fear in him, an instinct acquired from having lost all the good things in his life, things that he loved, from both his mothers to wearing the Robin mantle, that makes him subconsciously always expect the worst.

That’s why he prolonged you meeting his family for so long.

Without knowing, he’s always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the moment in which the rug will be pulled from under him and he’ll fall into the void. He survived all the previous things, more or less, but he isn’t sure that he would if you were to leave his life.

Because now everything, every single piece of him is rooted in you, like the earth orbiting the sun, the very thing that allows life on the planet in the first place. And that’s what you are to him, a source of warmth, comfort and life. And he’s sure that if he didn’t have that he would crumble. He might technically survive it but he wouldn’t be the same.

But the thing is that just as much as he's rooted in you, you’re rooted to him. He’s the anchor to your boat lost in a storm, the earth to your forever spinning moon. He’s your anchor, your earth, your sun, your everything.

You know that the doubts and insecurities aren’t going to disappear overnight but maybe, together, you two can make them lessen.

“Jason. Look at me,” you say when you open your eyes once again, pulling back slightly so that you can look him square in the eyes. Jason sighs, not wanting the quiet moment, the infinite second in which he can just be in your embrace and forget everything else to end. But then he slowly opens his eyes, showing you his troubled thoughts.

“I love you. So much that I can feel it in every single part of my body. It’s like you’re part of my DNA. And nothing, absolutely nothing, can make me want to leave you. And you’re not going to screw up anything. Call me selfish but I want to be near the things that make me feel strong, like I can achieve anything I want. The things that comfort me when I need it most, that are always there for me, even when I’m not at my best and I feel like a burden.”

Now Jason is the one that shakes his head and wants to refute you but you move your thumb from his cheek to his lips to shush him. “The things that make me feel loved. And you’re the only thing that makes me feel all of that. God knows I have my baggage too and it still amazes me that you understand me, that you want to carry it with me, that you’re proud to do so.”

You take a deep breath. “So no, I’m not leaving. Ever. I’m always going to be here. And I’m very glad that I met Dick, Tim and Damian tonight. They’re nice and they have allowed me to see more of you. And if there's something that I can’t get enough of is you. Okay?”

Jason nods as he leans into the touch of your hand, his eyes bright with love and admiration for you. And then he closes the small distance between you and kisses you, gripping your waist tightly, one hand coming up to hold your face and deepen the kiss. Your hands drop to his shoulders and you don’t waste a single second to kiss him back as fervently as he does. He hasn’t answered to your reassuring words but you don’t need him to. He’s telling you everything you need to know in that kiss.

When his lips first came in contact with yours, he said, Okay.

Where his hands are grabbing your body so tightly but oh so gently, he’s saying, You’re what I treasure most in this world.

And as you stand there in the middle of the living room, being kissed like nothing else exists except you two in this very moment, he’s saying, I love you.

You could have been like that just a couple of minutes or a couple of centuries for all you know, always forgetting the outside world when he kisses you. And when you finally part to catch your breaths, foreheads against each other, your hand softly caressing the hair at the back of his head, the shine in his eyes tells you everything that his lips have just said and more.

Still, he wants to make sure that you’re aware that he isn’t going to let his thoughts eat away at him and so he finally whispers, “Okay.”

“Good,” you whisper back, your hand finding his cheek and caressing it once again. And then you find his lips again, because if there’s one thing that you could spend doing forever without ever growing tired of is kissing him.

And without speaking, your lips tell him something too. Something that he feels as certain as the sun, the moon and the stars. 

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Please let me know what you think! Thanks for reading!

[hscherrywine]

Good morning, Pretty Boy

Summary: You and Harry have been seeing each other recently and you wake up in his bed after a long night of fun. You pick up right where you left off with a playful nickname.

warnings: smut, fluff, spiting, pet names, unprotected sex

word count 2.2k

Sometimes you know a day is going to be a good one from the moment you wake up. You know this because today is one of those days. You didn’t wake to an alarm or the rustling of roommates because you didn’t fall asleep in your apartment last night. You fell asleep in the bed of the tattoo littered, gentle, warm, Harry Styles.

Your eyes flutter open and you give your body a stretch. It takes you a moment to remember where you are and when you do you can’t help but have a smile creep up on your face. You take a moment to appreciate waking up for the first time in forever without body aches from your old mattress with no support.

Last night with Harry was a night to remember. The two of you have been seeing each other for a while, but you had a relaxing dinner last night that had Harry wanting “dessert” all night. Thinking about it makes your body tingle.

He had one hand slipped under your body and the other wrapped gently over the top of your body. His hands joined together at your waist and your legs curled towards your chest. Your back was pressed against his chest keeping you warm. Sometime while you were sleeping he buried his head between your neck and shoulder and you could hear his deep breathing.

You imagine how peaceful he is asleep since your back is towards him and you can’t see for yourself. As much as you don’t want to wake him, you also want to thank him again for last night. After a few seconds you slowly roll over, still in his embrace. Your open eyes are in line with his shut eyes. Some curls hang into his forehead as his chest slowly rises and falls.

Since he’s still asleep, you reach a hand out from his grasp and push some hair out of his way.

“What are you dreaming about pretty boy?” you wonder aloud not worried about if he’ll hear you or not. You’re just too enamored in his relaxing slumber.

His eyes flutter open because of the sudden physical touch. “Did you just call me pretty boy? He asks with a smirk. His morning voice was something you could used to.

“So what if I did pretty boy?” You taunt. Harry seems much more awake now than he did just a few moments ago because of your teasing.

What’s so pretty about me baby?” He questions while twirling some of your hair between his long fingers.

“Your puffy morning eyes are pretty, your lips that are pink from biting them in your sleep are pretty, and the dimple that appears every time i call you pretty is pretty.” you admit to him drawing your faces closer. You rub your hands up and down his arms as he takes in your words.

“If i’m pretty then there’s no words to describe you, baby” He compliments. He chews on his bottom lip for a second, just taking in the features of your face this morning and then plants a kiss on your soft lips. The first of what he hopes to be many kisses.

What would have been an extremely sweet moment made you squirm away from his grasp.

“Harryyyy” you whine shielding your face from his “I didn’t brush my teeth yet.”

“Babe your morning breath is not that bad.” He admits trying to cheer you up.

“So I do having morning breath?” you exclaim even more embarrassed.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” He adds pulling your body closer to his. Your one leg now finding itself on top of his two. Your crotch dangerously close to his.

“If it matters that much…I’ll just kiss you everywhere else.” He suggests running his hands through your hair and bringing you as close to him as he can. He begins to pepper kisses from your forehead to your cheeks to all over your face purposely excluding your lips.

“Everywhere?” You question getting lost in his acts of affection.

“Everywhere.” He assures bringing his moist lips down to your throat. His hands move from your head down your shoulders, and back up inside of your shirt. Well his shirt that you wore to bed last night.

Your head rolls back in pleasure when his hands reach your chest. The two of you are extremely grateful you don’t wear a bra to bed. He spends more time on your right shoulder biting and licking the skin sure to leave a mark. When he’s done he pulls back and gives your boobs some attention. With a glimmer of mischief in his eye he releases his hands and goes back to the hem of the shirt. You nod and he takes it as a signal to take the material off over your head.

He then removes his own shirt revealing his body to you once again. That is a view you never tire of.

“Like I said…pretty boy.” you murmer taking his muscular figure in. Now that the two of of you know where this morning is going, he takes the opportunity to lay you on your back and straddle your waist.

“Would a pretty boy do this? He taunts and drips a trial of saliva from his mouth to your tits.

“Considering the fact that you just did, I think he would.” You remark. Some comeback won’t get him riled up enough so you push your breasts together and watch his spit move over the mounds.

“I’m never going to live this nickname down, am I? he questions shaking his head.

“You can try but I won’t plan on it” You reply sitting yourself up on your forearms. He’s barely done anything to you but you’re so eager for his mouth anywhere on your body.

“We’ll see about that.” He counters before leaning down and swirling his tongue over your desperate nipples. You can only moan in shock. You were somehow still sensitive from the multiple rounds you and Harry had last night.

After Harry had enough of sucking and kissing one breast, he moved to the other. The sensation is equally as good if not better.

“More…please,” you breath out and it only encouraged Harry to take his time. He started to move his warm kisses down your sternum and stomach. Right when you wanted him to take off your plush pajama shorts, he didn’t. At least not immediately. He moved his body down your body and sat back on his heels taking in the sight of you.

His hands grip your ankles, moving them back so the soles of your feet are planted to the bed, putting in arch in your previously straight leg line. He rubs his hands up and down your smooth legs for a while and kisses right under the hem of your shorts. When he finally couldn’t take not seeing all of you, he shimmied the shorts off your legs.

With a new layer uncovered, he was even hungrier for your core, but he couldn’t indulge just yet. Wetness was practically seeping through the thin layer, but he couldn’t give himself away just yet. He inched his head closer until there was a mere inch between the two. He inhaled your scent deeply and began pressing slowing open mouthed kisses against your clothed area.

“Who knew pretty boys could be such teases?” you mustered up. You always loved how eager Harry was to eat you out. He never shies away from it and you can tell it’s a part of foreplay he enjoys, even if a lot of other guys try to avoid it.

He doesn’t respond but his actions get heavier. The kisses are more intense at your core and he drags his sharp tongue up and down your covered folds. At this point the entire material is soaked through with his spot and your arousal.

He takes the last barrier off and finally prepares to give you what you were waiting for. Your folds glisten and he licks his lips in anticipation. Before you know it, he’s spreading open your labia to get a better look at your throbbing cunt. Your clit is so swollen that he takes no time bringing his mouth to suck on it gently. Slow at first but as he picks up speed the pleasure becomes unbearable.

You grab ahold of his hair trying to bring him closer, but he does the opposite. He detaches from your clit to give the rest of your pussy some attention. He slides one finger up and down your folds and then into your cunt and he thrusts the one digit in and out repeatedly, in awe of how well you take just one finger.

Soon enough he’s adding a finger and they begin to curl and reach your G-spot. All you can do in response is call out his name.

“Go on baby, let everyone know how this pretty boy makes you feel.” He taunts increasing his speed. As his movements quicken the sounds of your wetness get stronger.

“God Harry-“ you groan “I think i’m gonna c-cum.” and with that he pulls his fingers away as fast as he can.

“Sorry babe but your first orgasm this morning is going to be around my cock” he reprimands before sitting up. He draws his soaked digits up to your mouth.

“Suck.” He demands while taking off his pants with the other free hand. You swirl your tongue all over his fingers, maybe even giving them a graze with your teeth. Harry imagines it’s being his cock and he constricts in this underwater. That has to go so he decides and removes it as well. His penis was now free from any material barrier as well.

When you get a little too bold, Harry keeps you on your toes, “Up.” he demands “On all fours, face the headboard.” He reaches into the nightstand for a condom while you shuffle to a new position.

Not being able to look into his eyes from here makes everything more intense, it’s like you don’t know his next move. You can feel it though. Harry is quick to slide his cock into your sopping hole. He’s had less attention than you this morning and was desperate for some satisfaction. He pushes the head in and out slowly to stretch you out. Once he develops a rhythm, one hand grips your waist to keep you stable. From here he can inch more of himself in. The other hand goes to your head and gathers some hair. He yanks it back so your head is arched towards him.

This angle is making him primal. Your cheeks are flushed and there’s marks in your bottom lip from where you were biting to suppress whimpers. With no warning he snaps all the way in. He figured you’d adjust quickly since it’s been mere hours from the last time he was inside you. Plus, this morning's activities riled you up almost as much as him.

You could feel every inch of him inside of you. It was a sensation you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to. He moved on leg up to get a deeper angle and simultaneously pulled your head back even further.

“Open.” He barked with his jaw clenching in pleasure. You immediately obeyed as he dripped his saliva into your mouth. He just wanted to be closer to you in any way possible. He also wanted to share the sweet taste of you from before.

“Swallow.” He added removing the hand that was on your hip to your throat so he could feel you swallow. This put you over the edge combined with the teasing.

It only took a few more thrusts before you were dizzying. “Harry d-don’t stop” you begged but he wasn’t planning on stopping any time soon.

He felts your walls clenching and your legs wanting to close tighter around him, but he kept them spread.

“I can’t last much longer” you confessed almost breathless.

“Then let go.” he encouraged. So you did. You came around his cock on all fours with your head giving up and falling into the pillows.

He brought both hands to your ass this time giving it some attention and thrusting into your spawning pussy a few more times before releasing himself into the condom.

When the two of you finally came down, you rolled over with a grin on your face. Harry collapsed next to you, his body glistening in sweat after the passion.

The two of you faced each other again and your eyes met. You just enjoyed each other's presence for a while, Harry tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Thanks for the orgasm, pretty boy.” you murmur.

“Anytime pretty girl, he responded. His eyes are glazed over from sex but he still offers to make you ‘the best breakfast ever’

[svtiddiess]

Hey, You Come Here Often?

Synopsis: Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm hard, let me fuck you? A terrible poem that has you jerking off your boyfriend at a photoshoot.

Pairing: Jeonghan x 14th member!afab!reader

Genre: smut, one shot, established relationship

Rating: mature

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: handjob, sub!Jeonghan, brat!Jeonghan, soft dom!reader, semi-public sex(?), orgasm denial, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: I'm still on hiatus but this thot has been plaguing my mind so I just had to write it down.

Thank you always to my twin @tomodachiii for beta reading!

@soo0hee surprise wifey.

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Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

"Hey, you come here often?"

You spin around to face your grinning boyfriend, both of you enjoying a break during a magazine photoshoot. The theme of the shoot is "loose and sexy", and Jeonghan embodies it flawlessly: a loose white blouse that subtly reveals his chest, paired with slacks that frame his legs perfectly. Even his long hair has been styled in a way that oozes effortless allure.

Rolling your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips—you're all too familiar with your boyfriend's cheeky antics by now. He always finds a way to tease you during breaks whenever the two of you are paired up for a photoshoot.

"Not often, but maybe that can change," you hum, crossing your arms with a casual air of indifference.

"Cool, wanna fuck?" Jeonghan drawls, slipping his hands into his pockets. Your eyes widen, and you choke on your own spit.

"Jeonghan!" you sputter, glaring at him.

"What?" he shrugs innocently, as though he hasn't just caused your mini-crisis.

"You're supposed to say something romantic!" you exclaim, exasperated and thoroughly done with his nonsense.

He sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes like you're the unreasonable one here.

"Okay fine," he grumbles. "Roses are red, violets are blue, I'm hard, let me fuck you?"

You blink, take a moment to process his awful poem, then shake your head and walk away.

"I'm leaving," you mutter, trying to get as far away from him as possible.

"No~" he whines as he grabs you from behind and wraps his arms around you. You gasp when you feel his hard-on press against your ass.

"I wasn't lying about being hard," he whispers in your ear.

"Go take care of it yourself," you murmur, biting back a moan when you feel him slightly grind against you.

"Love~" he whines, pressing harder against you.

"We're in the middle of a photoshoot, I'm not ruining my makeup," you hiss.

"At least jerk me off," he pouts, his hands slowly sneaking up your torso.

"You have two hands perfectly capable of doing that," you deadpan.

"But yours feel so much better wrapped around me," he sulks, squeezing one of your boobs, you bite your lip to prevent any sounds from slipping out.

"Please? I'll make sure to moan prettily for you," he purrs. He grabs your hand and places it on his dick, letting out a soft whimper. You squeeze your legs, trying to relieve the aching need that has settled in your core. You gulp and suck in a breath.

"Where can we even do it?" You whisper.

"We can do it right here if you want," he smirks. You squeeze him as a warning, and he groans, bucking his hip into you.

"T-The bathroom is nearby," he chokes out.

Humming softly, you quickly lead him into the bathroom, making sure to lock the door behind you. As soon as you do, he wraps his arms around you and leans in for a kiss, but you pull back.

"Ah, ah, ah! I told you, I’m not ruining my makeup," you say, holding up a finger in protest.

He lets out a dramatic whine, pouting and throwing a small tantrum like a child.

You scowl and cup his bulge, giving it a hard squeeze, eliciting a choked moan from him.

"Do you want me to take care of your little problem or not? I can gladly walk out and just leave you here in pain," you hiss.

"N-No, please, I'm sorry," he whimpers.

You slowly and tauntingly unbutton his pants, sensing his restlessness, you smirk.

"If we're doing this, it’s going to be on my terms. Act like a brat, and I’m out," you warn, your tone firm. He swallows hard and nods, gazing down at you with wide, doe-like eyes.

You fish his cock out of his boxers and smirk when you see how angry and red it looks, the tip already oozing out precum. He sighs in relief and shivers when the cold air hits his cock.

"Love, please," he whimpers.

You grin as you wrap your hand around the tip, thumb pressing into his slit. His breath hitches, and he bites his bottom lip.

"I thought you said you were going to moan so prettily for me, Hannie. Well then, go on—let me hear it," you command with a teasing edge as your hand slowly starts to move along his shaft.

You hear his breath hitch as he throws his head back, a shaky moan escaping his plump lips.

"That's right pretty boy, let me hear how good I'm making you feel," you purr, speeding up your pace.

Moaning out your name, he starts thrusting into your hand. His eyebrows knit together, and his voice takes on a whinier tone—you can tell he’s close.

You stop your movements and his eyes shoot open, mouth agape in disbelief.

"No, no! I was close!" He yells out, hips pathetically thrusting, trying to reach his high.

"Beg, pretty; beg me to let you cum," you coo, thumb circling his tip, earning a choked sob from him.

"Please let me cum, please," he begs, lips trembling.

Grinning in satisfaction, you run your nails alongside the vein under his dick; his eyes roll back as he lets out a long moan. He whimpers as you resume your pace of jerking your hand up and down his length. Chest heaving, his eyebrows furrow as he chants your name like a prayer. Incoherent babbles escape his lips as you use your other hand to cup his balls.

You lean in, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, "Cum for me, pretty boy." At your words, his mouth goes agape, and he cums into your hands; his seeds staining your hand and the floor below.

He rests his head on your shoulder, soft whines hitting your ear as he slowly comes down from his high. You rub his back as his body shudders in your hold.

"Feel better, pretty?" you murmur, and he hums in response, tilting his head up to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

"Thank you, love," he mumbles against your mouth, his voice soft and grateful.

"You should probably get your makeup retouched," you point out, gesturing to the faint sheen of sweat on his face. He grumbles and buries his head on your shoulder again.

"Help me clean up," he pouts, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

"Such a baby," you sigh, rolling your eyes.

"Your baby," he grins up at you, mischief twinkling in his eyes.

"Unfortunately," you tease, letting out a chuckle before placing a soft kiss on the tip of his nose.

You help him clean up, and the two of you head to the dressing room for makeup touch-ups. The makeup artist looks at Jeonghan in confusion, clearly wondering how he managed to work up such a sweat in so little time. You exchange knowing glances, barely holding back your laughter.

Getting paired with Jeonghan for photoshoots is rare, but whenever it happens, it's guaranteed the two of you will find yourselves in some sort of mischief.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour

@iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina

@theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies

[daisynik7]

Pairing: Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~1.5k

cw: established relationship, smut – PIV sex (doggy style), rough sex, blow job, cunnilingus, bondage, blindfold, use of safe word, slight degradation (use of the word slut), explicit language, safe word, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, princess, honey), aftercare 

Summary: You send your husband an eggplant emoji as a joke, but he doesn't find it amusing one bit.

Author’s Notes: Barely proofread, hardly edited, all horny. Just my little contribution to the plethora of delicious fics that came out after this latest episode. Tagging @lovekento because this was inspired by your recent ask about the safeword audio we love so much. Also tagging @darkstarlight82 because of your recent ask to be tagged in JJK fics! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated. Thanks for reading! MDNI and support dividers credit to @/cafekitsune (as always).

Nanami does not take kindly to jokes. Years of being together and he’s uptight as always. That doesn’t mean you stop trying, especially when you love how mad he gets at you.

It’s innocent, silly, completely unserious. I’m really craving something tonight, followed by suggestive emojis, including the winky face and a particularly phallic vegetable. You grin at your screen when you notice the three dots blinking, indicating that he’s read it and is currently typing a reply. Probably growing hard in his pants just thinking about it, knowing him. Before he can say anything, you send him a selfie of you at the grocery store, holding up two large eggplants, smiling wide at the camera. Eggplant parmesan! The dots flash once more, then disappear immediately, and you crack up in the middle of the produce section when he ends up not responding at all. 

Back home, it’s eerily dark inside with all the lights off. You carefully set your groceries on the counter, clicking the switch to illuminate the kitchen. You’re startled when you notice Nanami’s burly silhouette in the living room, back turned towards you, sitting upright on the couch, motionless. He does nothing to acknowledge your presence, worrying you even further. “Honey?” you call out, slowly making your way towards him. His arms are crossed over his chest, bulging out of his sleeves, staring straight ahead with a menacing look on his face. He remains silent, ignoring you. 

“Kento,” you say, swallowing hard, nervous at this unusually sinister behavior.   

“Thought you were craving something.” His voice is low and husky in his throat. Almost threatening.  

You kneel in front of him, leaning on his thighs. “It was a joke, honey.”

Finally, he looks at you, gaze intense from behind his glasses, nostrils flaring as he takes a deep inhale through his nose, exhale out his mouth. “So, you riled me up for no fucking reason then?”

You gulp loudly again, taken aback by his sudden vulgarity, simultaneously aroused. “I’m sorry, Kento.”

“Do you think I’m going to let you get away with this?” He grips your chin, focusing your attention on his lap. “Look how hard I am. Look at what your stupid joke did to me.” His massive erection is strained in his pants. Your pussy throbs, mouth salivating at the sight of it.

He unbuckles his belt and splits his zipper open. “You know what you have to do, don’t you sweetheart?” He shrugs his pants down enough to free his cock, veins protruding on the thick shaft. You nod silently, peering up at him with wide eyes, parting your lips, hungry for him. 

“That’s what I thought,” he mutters, stroking himself in his fist, precum oozing from the tip. “Stick out your tongue.” You do, letting it hang from your bottom lip, mouth open.

“Good girl,” he purrs. “So obedient for me.” He swipes his thumb over his cockhead, collecting the precum to smear it onto your tongue. “Swallow. Get a taste of it before you take me.”

You obey, relishing the salty, luscious flavor down your throat, your eyes never leaving his. He smirks, tracing your lips with his thumb, the first hint of softness since you this all started. “I’m going to ruin this mouth. Understand?” 

You nod again, panties wet with your arousal. Hoping he doesn’t notice, you reach between your legs, desperate to touch yourself. He catches you, using his foot to swat your arm away. “Ah, ah, ah. You’ll have your turn later.” He loosens the spotted tie on his neck to cover your eyes with it, knotting it tight. “There. Nothing except my cock to occupy this little head of yours.” He guides his cock into your mouth, sliding it along your tongue until he bottoms out. “Now, suck,” he demands, your face pressed to his groin, bottom lip grazing his heavy balls. You bob your head back and forth on him, drool leaking from the sides of your lips, teasing your gag reflex with every solid thrust, swallowing it down every time he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he whispers, cradling your face. “Such a good fucking slut for me.”

After several more strokes, he pulls out of you, cock wet with your saliva, squelching between his fist as he continues to jerk himself off. “On my lap. Come on.” He lends his hand, helping you up while the blindfold remains. You bend over his thighs, in position for a spanking, just as he expects. 

He chuckles. “Good girl. You already know that you need to be punished, huh? Always playing these ridiculous pranks on me. I hope you learn your lesson after this.” He slides the belt off his waist, binding your wrists behind your back, shoulders in an uncomfortable stretch as the leather digs into your skin. The need to be touched by him overwhelms you, body tingling with anticipation, pussy aching to be filled. 

He pulls your pants down, leaving you only in your panties from the waist down. The first spank sends shivers down your spine, the loud smack bouncing off the walls of the kitchen, flesh prickling from the contact. The second comes almost immediately, surprising you. You whimper, shutting your eyes, clenching your legs together. “Kento.”

A third is delivered, your ass throbbing and swelling against his calloused hand. “What?” he growls, palm ready for a fourth. 

“Fuck me,” you whine, jittering on his lap. You can’t take it anymore. You want him. You need him. 

“Oh, so you’re giving orders now?” He rolls you on your back, tugging your panties off, exposing your glistening cunt. “That’s not how this works, sweetheart. You know that. I can’t just give you what you want after what you did to me.” He spreads your legs apart, teasing your slit with his fingers, spreading your slick across your swollen clit. “Look how fucking juicy you are. All that because I fucked your throat. Nasty slut.”

You hear him spit, then feel the trickle of his saliva coat your aching bud. He repeats, soaking you in his spittle. He readjusts himself on the couch so that he’s between your legs, licking and slurping your cunt until his chin and nose are glossy. You squirm, knees shaky, already pushed to your limits. His lips surround your clit, sucking on it until it’s puffy in his mouth, tongue flicking it aggressively, pussy fluttering with arousal. You’re overstimulated, core incredibly tight, ready to fucking burst. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” he muffles, still slobbering. “Come on my face. Squirt all over this couch. I’m going to fucking embarrass you like you did me, you stupid slut.” You whine his name, gushing for him, rutting your hips against his face, writhing on the cushions damp with your juices. 

He rolls you over again, dragging your body until you’re up on your knees, ass up. “I’m going to wreck this pussy. Pound it until you learn your lesson. Got it?”

You nod erratically, ready to be fucked hard and fast. He enters you smoothly, stretching you out until you’re completely full of him, everything so wet and messy between you. He pumps his cock in and out of you, pace increasing the more and more your body yields to him. He fucks you like an animal in heat, railing your cunt like it’s his own personal cock sleeve for him to use and tear apart. 

Blindfolded and still bound by the wrists, you begin to grow scared of his carnal behavior. His nails imprint your skin, grip so strong it hurts with every brutal thrust. The guttural growls he emits sound nothing like the Nanami you know. The way he bullies his cock into your tight pussy, so deep and so rough that a cramp develops in your abdomen makes you think that the person fucking you is a complete stranger now. You want your husband back. It takes you a few tries to get it out, but eventually, you do, whimpering, “Makgeolli.”

He doesn’t hear you, so you say it once more, louder this time. “Makgeolli.”

Immediately, it’s as if a switched is flipped. He pulls out, quickly removing the belt and blindfold off you, his tie saturated in tears and sweat. “Hey, hey, hey. Sweetie, I’m here. I’m right here. You’re okay.” He pulls you up on his lap, cradling you in his arms, kissing your sticky forehead, brushing away any of the remaining tears from your eyes. 

You relax into his hold, nestling your face into his shoulder, steadying your breathing. He massages your back, pressing soft kisses on your cheek. “I’m sorry, princess. I’m so sorry. I got carried away, I admit it.” His voice is soothing now, familiar and comforting in your ear. 

Sniffling, you ask, “Are you mad at me?”

He smiles, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I was never mad to begin with. I just wanted to tease you, but I took it too far. I’m sorry.” He kisses you on the lips, cupping your check in his palm. “Your joke was actually quite funny.”

You giggle softly, running your fingers through his hair, damp with his own perspiration. “At least I got you to finally admit it.”

He gives you another smooch on the forehead, lacing his fingers with yours. “I’ll run us a bath, okay? And then after, we can order pizza and watch a movie. Sound good?”

“Yes. And I’ll help you with this while we’re soaking in the tub. Does that sound good?” You palm his cock, still stiff and wet against his abs. 

“Whatever you want, princess.”

[orimuraa]

── .✦ I just can’t say good night - OT7

(synopsis) ؛ ଓ enhypen when you fall asleep waiting for them ♡⸝⸝

ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ؛ ଓ flufff ؛ ଓ kisses, petnames, enhypen being so soft :(( ؛ ଓ wc 971

𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

as heeseung opened the door, he noticed how the lights were off except for the glow of the tv.

he silently walked over to the sofa, only to find your adorable, curled up form, with a big and fluffy blanket wrapped around you.

the glow of the tv reflected onto your peaceful face and heeseung swept a stray strand of hair out of your face, kneeling down next to you.

“my pretty baby stayed up so late for me, hm?” he mumbled, taking in your sleeping form.

he then slipped one arm under your waist and the other under your knees, lifting you up bridal style.

once he made it to your shared bedroom, he gently placed you down on the bed.

“goodnight baby,” he whispered and then placed a sweet kiss to your forehead.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

jay had texted you and had said that he would be running late tonight and told you to go to bed, not wanting you to stay up so late for him.

so when he walked through the door, he didn’t expect to see you fast asleep at the counter.

“tsk, baby…i told you not to wait for me,” he smiled sympathetically, setting his bag on the ground to be taken care of tomorrow.

he softly wrapped his arms around you, securing you in his arms as he lifted you up and against his body.

he carried you all the way to his bedroom and set you down carefully, making sure not to wake you.

he slowly leaned down and planted a small kiss against your lips.

“goodnight angel.”

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

jake was stuck in meetings all day and was so relieved when he finally got home.

and there you were, fast asleep on the couch, assumably waiting for him. his heart melted at the sight and he instantly felt guilty for forgetting to text you that he would be running late.

“oh my sweets…i’m so sorry i forgot to text you,” he whispered, crouching down next to you.

he took in your adorable figure, admiring your bare face.

“alright sweets, c’mon, let’s get you to bed,” he smiled lightly, lifting you up and off the couch.

you snuggled into his neck subconsciously, making jake smile.

“sleep well sweets,” he whispered into your hair, planting a kiss there too.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

“princess? i’m home~” sunghoon called out, just checking you were awake or not.

when he got mo response, he assumed you probably were in bed by now and fast asleep.

so he definitely did not expect to see you laying on the couch, your makeup still on and a blanket half on your body.

he immediately felt guilty for making you wait so long for him and quickly got to work.

he picked you up and brought you to the bedroom, setting you down so carefully as if you were made of porcelain.

he came back with a makeup wipe and some moisturizer, knowing how bad it is to sleep with a full face of makeup.

“i’m sorry pretty,” he whispered. “must’ve stayed up so late for me, hm?” he cooed, folding up the wipe and throwing it away.

“my precious princess.”

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

it was 11:30 pm when sunoo got home. he assumed that you had already went to bed and he would just see you in the morning.

so seeing you curled up on the couch was not something he wad expecting.

“love? did you try and wait for me?” he smiles softly.

quickly, he pulled out his phone to take a quick picture of you, not being able to resist since you looked oh so cute.

“c’mon angel, let’s get you somewhere more comfortable,” he whispers, picking you up and hugging you close.

the scent of your shampoo surrounded him and it made him weak in the knees. gosh he was so in love with you.

“my baby, you’re so sweet. i should’ve let you know that i wouldn’t be home early,” he pouts, feeling guilty about it.

he tucked you into the warm comforter on your bed, and went to go get washed up.

slipping into the spot next to you, kissing your cheek.

“i love you my sweet angel.”

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

another practice session ran long and jungwon had once again, came home much later than usual.

you knew this was probably the case but you still wanted to see how long you could stay up, wanting to greet him.

as jungwon walked in, he was greeted with the adorable sight of you, huddled up on the counter, with a blanket half on you.

his heart softened at the sight, knowing that it must be uncomfortable laying on the cold counter top.

"aigoo, jagi...why would you torture your body like this," he sighed, knowing that your body would be sore from the awful position you had slept in.

he gently picked you up, carrying you to the comfort of your bed.

"silly baby, c'mon, let's get you to sleep."

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

riki doubted that you were awake, knowing that you didn't like to stay up so late. but what he didn't know was that you had wanted to wait for him to come home.

your curled up figure in the corner of the couch made his heart swell. how could someone be so cute.

"i'm home little love, i'm home," he whispered, kneeling down to give you a sweet kiss on your soft lips.

the glow of the tv reflected bright colors onto your flawless face, yet it was dim and suddle.

without another minute, riki turned off the tv, swept you up in his arms, holding you close to his chest, and brought you into the bedroom.

"let's sleep, yeah?" he cooed, looking down at your still figure.

the room was quiet except for the sound of your mixed breathing, but it was a comfortable silence.

"sleep well little love."

im so so so sorry that my works have been so inconsistent and i will definitely try harder to be more regular! if you enjoyed, please like and reblog! its so appreciated <33

𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬: @en-diaries, @k-films, @k-nets

⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory, @yuvany, @seozii, @pinknjm, @greentulip, @jomisu, @nxzz-skz, @ancnymcnzjy

[affableramen]

Kinktober: Aphrodisiac | Pantalone | Neuvillette

Minors do not interact; nsfw explicit content 18+ only

Synopsis: what happens when a calm, collected man takes stimulants

⟢ Pantalone’s part tags: domestic sex, dirty language, unprotected sex, cumming inside, size kink

⟢ Neuvillette’s part tags: rough sex, mirror sex, slight domination, order giving, unprotected, pulling out

note: it should have been obvious by now but i only write consensual intimacy. also, i’m sorry this one did not include capitano, but he’s going to appear in another, not less spicy scenario. :)

You and your boyfriend Pantalone got your aphrodisiac chocolate on a business meeting organised by his business partners. He caught you red-handed, pleasuring yourself, though he was under the effect of stimulants too.

You and your husband Neuvillette were invited on a wedding to one of the government officials where he accidentally took a bite of arousing cake

⟢ Pantalone

“What… are… you… doing there… with your hands?”

Hearing his voice you almost jump on the chair. Although the room is dimly lit, the atmosphere is almost gloomy in the living room, nothing can escape Pantalone’s sharp eyes.

“N-nothing.” 

Pantalone slowly approaches you with his designed smirk. 

“If it isn’t you, masturbating in my own mansion, after the important meeting we just had.” 

You pull your hand from the middle of your thigh and sit straight immediately.

“Are you going to pretend like you didn’t do that just now?” 

Pantalone leans in. At such intimate closeness you hear his ragged breath. His usually pale face is flushed now. Apart from that, there is a slight shaking in his body, as if he is no less excited than you. 

“Why use hands… when you have the whole cock available?”

You roll your eyes, trying to mask the embarrassment with scepticism. He teasingly caresses your neck, shoulder, sliding down to your chest. Wanting to feel his touch even more you involuntarily get up from the desk. In no time, Pantalone pins you to the nearest wall, his eyes are ones of a predator. He brushes his nose against your cheek, inhaling the scent he finds so sweet and seductive.

“So, why touch yourself when you can use my cock?” He places both of his hands on the wall, caging you between. His sharp look examines you in the dimly lit, gothic-styled room.

“He’s ready for you to use…”

“You sound like a drunk man.”

“The question is - am I drunk, really?”

You gently pull him in, grasping his shoulders as if letting him know you’re in need.

“You ate those chocolates too, didn't you?” 

“Oh yes… Seems like those weren't just chocolates.” He looks at you so hungrily, but so longingly at the same time.

“I think we both might have eaten aphrodisiac. Those businessmen sure wanted to have fun.”

“And they are quite effective too, considering the fact that I…” Pantalone gives his lip a shallow bite and exhales with need: “…desperately need to be inside you right now.” 

He takes your earlobe in his mouth and tastes it, which forces a heat rush through your body. 

“My balls are aching”, Pantalone lets out a shaky moan into your ear. You can see the strained fabric of his trousers wrap tightly around a well-formed bulge. “They need to be emptied.”

Seeing you eyeing him shamelessly, Pantalone cups your cheeks and says right into your lips. “Don’t just look. Touch me.”

Hearing this man begging for your touch does its magic on you. Once gotten an explicit invitation, you bring your hand to his leather belt, slightly lower and unzip him. Kissing you impatiently, Pantalone buries his moan inside your mouth. His trousers are pulled down and you successfully release the heavy-looking cock from the tight fabric of the black boxers. Obviously the cool façade of your boyfriend slowly melts once his hardness is freed from restraining formal suit.

Pantalone pulls out from the kiss and looks you up and down. You hold the eye contact with him, not allowing yourself to look down where he pushes your legs apart with his knee. You know, this kind of staring game between you that he enjoys doing during your intimate banters. 

“Let me check how well you were doing before I heartlessly interrupted your leisure.” 

His fingers find the waistband of your underwear and slip in carefully. You gulp impatiently when you feel his slender fingers work skillfully underneath the thin fabric.

“P-Pantalone-” your voice shakes, not knowing if you should give in to desires or let the damned stimulant subside. Everything feels so hot, all sensations appear increased. 

He starts drawing wet, slimy noises from your centre with his fingers. The movements quite rough, giving out his own impatient thoughts to have you.

“Goddamn… You’re soaking wet”, his breath hitches. He pulls the fingers out, denying you right on the edge when replacing the cool fingertips with a thick tip. He gives you a good rub first.

“Gonna slide it in… slowly…” 

GAH! The both of you let out a noise resembling a yell.

“That wasn't slowly, thank you very much”, you bark, grabbing Pantalone’s shoulders to hold onto something. Seeing you afraid to fall, Pantalone pulls your leg so it wraps around his waist. At the same time such friction provides you with a better angle.

“Listen to me, woman”, Pantalone hisses through teeth, while thrusting actively and sharply right from the start, not intending anywhere near to go nice and slow. “You’re not the only one who stupidly took those arousal chocolates. I had to… ngh!… satisfy my curiosity…”

“Satisfied?”

“You tell me.”

Your hole recognises the usual size and takes him with ease all way in, swallowing it to the base. 

“I swear- you’re taking this cock as if you own it.”

Breathlessly you manage to respond dryly:

“I do kinda own it…”

“Don’t get too cocky.”

His slim body presses you against the wall of the mansion making the friction between your bodies grow louder and more lewd. The thursts cause more noise with each moment as he pumps his length in and out. 

“It’s getting more difficult to control myself. Do you mind if I?”

“Go faster?”

“A lot faster than usual, to be precise.”

“Surely do, if you intend to break us.”

“Let me indulge my dirty desires once in a while. You’re going to like it, I promise,” he lets out a blissful sigh. “I’m going to fuck you into pieces.” 

“Not a fan of quickies, Pantalone.”

“Me neither. But there’s some charm in fucking you as if both of our lives depend on it right now.”

You stop talking. He gives you a particularly sharp thrust, and you feel your mind increasingly getting blank from the pushing. The man having you does his job excellently, hitting your weak spot with an angle that could almost be called perfect.

“Fuck, you're dripping.” Pantalone whispers as if warning you, but doesn’t stop in his motions, the slapping sounds of body against a body becomes only louder. “All I did was just…” gasp, “a few feeble thrusts… ngh!… and it’s all over your thighs…”

His monologue of self praise doesn't end while he’s balls deep inside you. You stay surprised that he’s still able to yap during such intense procedure.

“No one can satisfy you like I do. I fuck you just… heavenly. You know that, don't you?” he grips your hips tight as he keeps slamming into you roughly like never before. Like if he were not an exhausted older man for a moment of time. You immediately grab onto him tight, anxious to fall as his movements become more chaotic and unbearably tense. 

“I’m going to fucking explode.” Pantalone spits out breathlessly, his words mixing with raspy moans. “You're going to bear a child…” His desperate voice cracks so endearingly and it turns you on even more hearing him vulnerable like this.

You blame your brain for imagining these things before they even happen. Getting closer there too, you cannot keep your own emotions in track.

“Keep moaning like that and we'll never hear the end of our neighbours’ complaints”, his brings his hand to your lips, brushing over it. “Sh-h…”

You know that he’s nearing the peak and his body is desperately begging for release when he leans in and asks with a hoarse voice:

“Are you on a birth control?”

“Yeah”, you respond with the same hoarse voice, praying that you’ll keep your voice down till the very end because otherwise it might be too loud for the both of us to hide.

“Good for you… cause I won’t be able to- darling-” he tenses up, his eyes shut tight as he blows all his load in one go and falls dead silent.

You reach the peak after him, your body is left trembling but unlike Pantalone, you’re still able to stand. When Pantalone finishes, he pulls out, spilling the rest on the floor and weakly collapses against the wall. He’s panting heavily and his state cannot be described anywhere near to good. 

“Pantalone honey, are you alright?”

You ask, seeing him barely capable of keeping himself conscious. He doesn't respond, bending over the wall. Obviously he is not.

“Pantalone.”

“G-give me a moment…”

You inquire again, worriedly.

“No, seriously, are you alright?” 

“I’m fine!” the grumpy old man responds almost cracking his back from exertion. Gently, you place your hand on his back and pat it.

“Pantalone?”

“Isn't it selfish? Cumming before you. I guess we’ll need to compensate for that.”

You pull him close so that he can use you as a support. “The aphrodisiac must have raised your blood pressure. Let’s get you to the sofa.”

“I’m not usually feeble like this”, he keeps muttering, his pride wounded as you help him settle on the couch and take a seat as well. “I last.”

“I know that you do. But forget about that right now. Just breathe in and out”, you say, carefully pulling him into the hug. 

Still dizzy from over exerting, Pantalone lets out a sigh. “I could go all night.”

“Surely you could.”

“Just give me a moment, and I’ll make you cum again. Before myself.”

“Don't say it like that. You were great. Cumming earlier than me doesn’t make our sex worse, to your information you looked quite cute when you did.”

“Teasing me again? You know what happens when you rile me up? You are not able to walk the next day.”

Heavily breathing he reaches out to pull you into the kiss once more, although it’s sloppy and less rough.

“But I hope you know that I’m not done with you, not by a long shot.”

You hear a faint sigh from him as the both of you raise from the sofa to go upstairs and finally get the well-deserved rest.

“Going to deal with the nosy neighbours tomorrow again. That damned old couple always trying to put a sex ban on us.”

“I’ll just tell them someone had a little too much of viagra.”

“You little sh—”

⟢ Neuvillette

You’re sitting in the living room of your big lavishly-decorated house as you hear the entrance door slightly creaking at an opening.

“Honey?” you ask, knowing well it is your husband who’s returned at such hour. But to your biggest surprise, Neuvillette simply rushes through the vestibule, not even glorifying you with his glance.

“Good evening”, his voice is but an echo, and he himself looks no more than a ghost. 

“What the hell?” you think, realising that there should be a good damn reason for him to evade you like that. You put your book away, take your glasses off and quietly sneak out of the couch, following the judge’s steps. He goes upstairs, to your bedroom. But it’s not very late?- you think. Why would he go to sleep so early? Is he so exhausted?

When upstairs you realise that he doesn't aim for your shared bedroom, he goes to the guest room for whatever reason.

“Are you going to explain?” you catch him off guard. Neuvillette gives you a brief look but suddenly turns away, adjusting his tie. 

“I wish to sleep alone tonight.”

“Why? We are married, aren't we supposed to share the room like we always did?”

“I have… some matters at hand I’d prefer to solve alone.”

“Really…”

You look as Neuvillette disappears in the guest bedroom shutting the door right before your face.

As soon as he settles in and the noise of his presence subsides, you gently push the door to the room and enter.

Neuvillette, however, is not in the bedroom anymore. You look around, realising that he’s most obviously in the bathroom, attached to the room inside. 

“Are you feeling unwell? Are you ill?”

You ask through the door, not wanting to sound clingy but also feeling a sense of responsibility for your beloved one.

“Do you want me to bring you a glass of water? Or call the doctor?”

“No-” he responds stiffly from inside the bathroom. “There’s nothing you can do except for giving me some privacy.”

“That’s unusual of you. I don't want to sound clingy, but when you feel bad you usuaully turn to me right away.”

“This situation is different, darling.”

You find yourself dumbfounded as you’re standing right there only knowing that your husband's unwell but never getting an explicit answer.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, you’re not acting funny at all. Spill the beans.”

“D-don’t call me that”, Neuvillette’s voice shakes and that little clue makes you finally realise that…

“Oh my God.”

Neuvillette’s side is suddenly completely silent as you make your suggestion.

“Please don't tell me you ate those cakes with aphrodisiac.” You try to keep cool but his answer just kills you.

“I confess…”

You rub your face with a hand desperately trying to find a solution because you were the one a lot smarter in this situation to avoid the dangerous cake. There was no aphrodisiac in you.

Neuvillette is a solitary and collected person who is also, ironically, quite calm in sex. And having him taken these stimulants… you understand how complicated he must be feeling right now. He must be completely smitten and embarrassed. Always so cool and restrained when suddenly feeling like a horny mess because of some stupid cake.

Attempting to comfort your husband you speak through the door, hoping that he’d listen.

“Neuvillette, come out, you’re going to be alright. Those are just silly stimulants. They won't harm you.”

“You don't understand. I need to be inside you right now. So badly…”

Hearing such filthy words slip off your husband’s tongue you feel something awakened in you. The heat courses through your body and you start aching for his touch, though probably less uncomfortably than he is for yours.

“Archons, you’re making me regret I didn't take a bite of that cake.”

Involuntarily, the flushed face of your aroused husband appears in your imagination and you start feeling just as aroused. 

“Why must we deny ourselves, then?”

Your words alone cause Neuvillette to forget his duties at once and give in into his desires. The door opens in front of you. He really looks flushed and messed up, but his voice remains one of a gentleman’s.

“You mean it?”

“Sure. Besides, it’s not like given the tight schedule of our work, we have been indulging ourselves often. I don't even remember the last time we used the bed for a different reason than sleeping.”

At that, Neuvillette completely unleashes the effects of the aphrodisiac. He starts stepping on you until you get pressed flush against the wall.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you right now.”

“Show me.”

“Turn around”, his words not a request but a command. You raise an eyebrow at him but do as he says. “Bend over.”

You bend over, forcing your ass up which is an extremely rare position for the both of you. Neuvillette is a classy man who enjoys primarily missionary and needs your eye contact on him. But these stimulants… making him feral to the brim.

“Look at this ass…” he whispers quietly, probably hoping you won’t hear of it but you successfully do. You grip the wall with both of your hands, seeking balance as Neuvillette rolls your hair over his fist, pulling it dangerously. You swear, this is a new aide of him you’ve never known before.

The judge’s cool fingers spread you with skill and finesse, drawing content sighs and gasps from you from a while before he deems you ready to take him all. Still bent over to the wall, you feel Neuvillette press his blunt tip against your thigh, aiming to the entrance but teasing the soft flesh all over long before he finally sticks himself in.

The grip on your hips is tight, almost made of steel. For a moment you find yourself lacking the sensation of his hands entangled in your hair and attempt to ask him do more, but Neuvillette grabs it before you can open your mouth. You recognise the pleasant filling sensation inside you and turn your head to the side, wanting to see what's going on behind you. Luckily, your eyes bump into the long mirror, reflecting monsieur fervently taking you from behind. The face he makes is almost embarrassing to look at, but you find it extremely hot.

“Look at yourself, not me. Don’t you dare look at me.”

“You look awesome like this, Neuvillette.”

With hearing that, he goes rougher until the thrusts become evident in sound. Neuvillette’s butler knocks into the door to offer the dinner, but he quickly steps back hearing your soft moans and Neuvillette’s raspy grunts. Perhaps you should encourage him taking these stimulants more often?

With a loud groan Neuvillette pulls out right at the time, and everything gets spilled around. He wipes himself clean and helps you up, pulling flush to him so that you don't fall. 

Later at night you find yourself resting next to Neuvillette in the bed, with your eyes wide and breathing ragged. Your heart still pumping quickly after the adrenaline rush that coursed through your body just minutes ago.

 “Wow… Guess those stimulants were not such a bad idea after all. I should thank the chef.”

“I didn't even consider you liking me being so cruel with you.”

“I see nothing cruel with being a little fervent and passionate once in a while. Especially, willingly.”

Your husband turns to look at you, his fingers gently hide the hair strand behind your ear.

“If that makes you happy.”

[aspenmissing]

hey! just wanted to say that i LOVE your writing style!!! :3 is it possible to get an s\a comfort for the arcane characters? nothing in detail of course- just the characters find out that reader gotten s\a'd. i'd really like that as someone who survived s\a. if you don't want to do that, that's fine! i get it. :) thank you! 🤍🤍🤍

ꜱᴀꜰᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ᴀʀᴍꜱ

ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴠɪᴋ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ || ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ/ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ/ᴀɴɢꜱᴛ-ɪꜱʜ || 6598 ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ || ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜱ/ᴀ (ɴᴏ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ/ᴅᴇᴛᴀɪʟ)

ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴꜱᴡᴇʀ: ᴏʜ ᴍʏ ᴅᴇᴀʀ, ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʙᴀꜱᴛᴀʀᴅ ɢᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴀᴛᴇᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ. ɪ'ᴍ ꜱᴏ ꜱᴏʀʀʏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴏɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴄᴀɴ ɢɪᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏᴍᴇ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪꜱʜ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇ! <3 <3 <3 <3

ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ᴊᴀʏᴄᴇ | ᴠɪᴋᴛᴏʀ | ᴠᴀɴᴅᴇʀ | ꜱɪʟᴄᴏ | ᴍᴇʟ

JAYCE

The workshop was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of Jayce’s pen against parchment. Hextech schematics lay sprawled across the table, half-finished, waiting for the spark of genius he often found in the quiet moments. But tonight, his thoughts were elsewhere.

You sat by the window, the soft glow of Piltover’s streetlamps casting a golden sheen over your face. You hadn’t spoken much today, lost in a silence Jayce didn’t quite understand—but he felt it. The weight of something unspoken, something that pressed against your chest and refused to let go.

Jayce wasn’t the kind of man to push. He knew you’d talk when you were ready. But seeing you like this, so distant, so unlike the spark of life you usually carried—it hurt him. He had seen you in your brightest moments, laughing with unfiltered joy, eyes alight with wonder as you watched him work. Now, it was as if the light had dimmed, and he hated feeling helpless.

“Mi Amor,” he murmured, setting his pen down and pushing aside his work. He stood, crossing the room in slow, careful strides, as if afraid to break you further. “Talk to me.” (My love)

You didn’t look up, eyes trained on the world outside, but your fingers curled tighter around the fabric of your sleeve. He could see it now—the tension in your shoulders, the way you curled in on yourself as if trying to make yourself small.

His heart clenched.

Jayce had seen battle, had faced opposition, had fought tooth and nail to make the world a better place. But nothing, nothing in the world made him feel as powerless as watching you fight a war inside yourself that he couldn’t see. He wanted to fix things, but some wounds didn’t heal with science or innovation. Some wounds simply needed time, and someone to hold the pieces together.

“Please,” he said, softer this time. He knelt beside you, resting a warm, calloused hand over yours. “Whatever it is, you don’t have to carry it alone.”

A shaky breath left your lips, and that was the beginning of it. The unraveling.

Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Something happened to me… a long time ago.”

Jayce didn’t move, didn’t speak, but his grip on your hand tightened—not enough to hurt, just enough to ground you. To tell you he was here. That he wasn’t going anywhere. His mind raced with questions, with anger at the world, but he pushed it all aside, focusing on you and only you.

“It wasn’t my fault,” you continued, and the way your voice broke shattered something deep within him. “I know that. I do. But sometimes, I still feel like—like I’m dirty. Like I’m weak.”

Jayce inhaled sharply, his jaw tightening. Not at you, never at you, but at the cruelty of the world. At the injustice of it all. But he forced himself to exhale slowly, to push down the anger, because right now, you needed him to be something else.

Gentle. Safe.

“Hey,” he whispered, shifting onto the couch beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He felt the way you tensed at first, before slowly sinking into him, letting him hold you. He pulled the blanket from the couch’s armrest, draping it over you both, creating a barrier from the outside world. “You are not weak, Y/N. You are the strongest person I know.”

A small, trembling hand clutched at the fabric of his shirt. “I just… I don’t want it to define me.”

Jayce pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there. “It doesn’t.” He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, warm brown meeting yours with nothing but certainty. “You define yourself. Not what someone else did to you. And I swear to you, I’ll be here—every step of the way.”

A tear slipped down your cheek, and Jayce caught it with his thumb. And when you finally let yourself cry, truly cry, he didn’t try to shush you, didn’t try to rush your pain away. He just held you, strong and steady, as long as you needed.

Because that’s what love was.

As the minutes passed, the heavy silence between you slowly morphed into something lighter. He traced gentle circles on your back, whispering reassurances whenever he felt your breathing hitch. The world outside carried on, the distant sounds of the city moving forward—but in this moment, it was just the two of you, wrapped in warmth, in safety.

“I love you,” he finally murmured, resting his forehead against yours. It wasn’t about fixing you. You weren’t broken. It wasn’t about saving you. You didn’t need saving. It was about standing beside you, through the shadows and the light.

And he would. Always.

VIKTOR

The evening was quiet, save for the steady tick of a clock and the occasional rustle of papers as Viktor reviewed his notes at the dining table. The soft glow of candlelight bathed the apartment in golden hues, casting long shadows against the walls. It was a rare moment of stillness—no rushing around the lab, no frantic calculations, just the gentle company of one another.

You sat curled up on the couch, a book resting open on your lap, though your eyes had long since stopped reading the words. Your gaze was distant, unfocused, as if staring past the pages into something only you could see. Something in your mind weighed you down like a heavy chain, an old wound resurfacing without permission, dragging you into memories you wished you could forget.

The warmth of the apartment should have been comforting. The scent of old books and Viktor’s faintly metallic, oil-stained presence should have grounded you. But tonight, none of it was enough to stop the shiver crawling up your spine.

Viktor’s cane tapped lightly against the wooden floor as he made his way toward you, his movements careful and precise. Even with his slight limp, there was an elegance to the way he carried himself, a grace you had always admired.

“You are awfully quiet tonight, drahý.” His voice was soft, tinged with curiosity but not pressing. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, resting his cane against the armrest. His presence was gentle but unwavering, his sharp gaze studying your face, taking in every small sign of distress. (Dear)

You swallowed, your fingers tightening around the edge of your book. “I just… I remembered something I wish I hadn’t.”

The words felt heavy as they left your lips, like they had been stuck in your throat for too long. You hadn’t meant to say anything at all. The last thing you wanted was to weigh Viktor down with your ghosts. But there was something about his presence, the way he sat patiently beside you, that made it impossible to hold everything in.

Viktor didn’t speak immediately, but his golden-brown eyes flickered with concern. He was always quick, his brilliant mind piecing things together with little effort. He had known for some time that you carried burdens—unspoken ones, locked away in the depths of your heart.

Gently, he reached out, his calloused hand resting over yours. His touch was warm, grounding. “You do not have to tell me if it hurts too much,” he said quietly. “But if you wish to… I am here.”

You looked down at his hand over yours, the contrast of it. Viktor, for all his genius, for all his sharp wit and unrelenting ambition, had always been so careful with you. Like he understood you needed gentleness more than anything else.

A shaky breath escaped your lips, and after a moment of hesitation, you whispered, “Someone hurt me. A long time ago.” The words felt foreign in your mouth, like they didn’t belong to you. “Not just hurt. They… they took something from me. And sometimes, I still feel like I can’t escape it.”

Silence followed, but not the uncomfortable kind.

Viktor’s grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, his fingers curling around yours in a silent vow. His eyes darkened—not with pity, but with something deeper, something unreadable. There was an anger there, not directed at you, but at whoever had left these scars on your soul.

“I see,” he murmured after a long pause. His voice was careful, steady, but you could hear the tension beneath it. Viktor, who prided himself on his ability to understand the world, to solve its mysteries—this was something he could not fix. And that thought seemed to pain him.

Tears welled in your eyes before you could stop them. You hated crying, hated feeling like this. But Viktor made no move to hush you, no attempt to tell you it would be okay when he knew such words were empty.

Before the first tear could fall, he shifted closer. He moved slowly, always mindful, as if giving you the space to pull away if you needed.

“May I hold you?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded.

With a tenderness that contradicted the sharp, brilliant mind always whirring with thoughts, Viktor pulled you into his embrace. His arms wrapped securely around you, his warmth seeping into your skin, steady and unshakable. You buried your face into his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of parchment and faint oil.

He didn’t speak right away. He didn’t try to fix it, didn’t try to offer empty reassurances. Instead, he simply held you, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles against your back, his other threading carefully through your hair.

“I hate that this happened to you,” he murmured, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “You did not deserve it.”

The weight of his words unraveled something inside you, and the tears finally slipped free. You clung to him, shaking, but he never wavered. He held you like you were something precious, something unbreakable despite everything.

For a long time, you stayed like that. Viktor didn’t rush you, didn’t try to fill the silence with unnecessary words. He simply let you cry, let you be however you needed to be.

After some time, when the shudders had eased, he pulled back just enough to look at you. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away the last traces of tears. “I do not claim to know what you need to heal,” he admitted. “But whatever it is, I will be here. Always.”

His words wrapped around you like a safety net, a promise woven into the very foundation of who he was. Viktor had never been a man of empty promises, never one to say things just for the sake of them. He meant every word.

You let out a trembling sigh, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Just this,” you whispered. “This is enough.”

And Viktor, ever patient, ever kind, simply held you tighter, as if he could shield you from every nightmare, every ghost of the past. And maybe, in this moment, he did.

Because for the first time in a long time, you felt safe.

JAYVIK

The apartment was warm, lit by the soft glow of streetlamps filtering through the window. It had been a peaceful night—until it wasn’t.

Jayce’s hands had been on your waist, his lips tracing a path down your neck, and for a moment, it had been fine. You’d wanted this. You loved them—both of them. But then something shifted, something in the way he pressed a little too close, the weight of him trapping you against the couch. It sent a jolt of ice through your veins, a memory clawing its way up from the depths of your mind. Panic gripped you like a vice.

You barely registered the way you shoved him off, stumbling to your feet as your breath came too fast, too shallow. Your chest tightened, your vision blurred at the edges, and you could feel the room spinning.

“Y/N?” Jayce’s voice was distant, concerned, but it only made the nausea worse.

“Don’t—” Your voice cracked, shaking as you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to ground yourself, trying to remember you were safe. But your body wasn’t listening.

Then, a familiar voice, steadier, softer, cut through the haze. “Drahý, breathe.” (Dear)

Viktor. His presence was close, but not too close. He stood carefully, his cane in hand, eyes locked onto yours with the kind of patience that had always made you feel safe. He wasn’t reaching for you, wasn’t crowding you—just waiting, offering you the space to come back to yourself at your own pace.

Jayce looked helpless, torn between wanting to comfort you and fearing he’d only make things worse. “I—I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” you choked out, barely able to meet his eyes before squeezing yours shut. You hated this. Hated that the past still had this much power over you.

A warm hand, tentative but grounding, touched yours. Viktor. He was sitting now, careful, his golden eyes searching yours. “Come, sit,” he murmured, tapping the space beside him. “Let us be here with you.”

You hesitated, but your legs felt weak, trembling beneath you. Slowly, you sank down beside him, his cane resting against the arm of the couch as he adjusted, staying close but not overbearing. Jayce followed suit, hesitant, careful, his usual confidence replaced with concern.

“Was it… something I did?” Jayce asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, staring at your hands. “No. Not really. It just—reminded me of something.”

Jayce inhaled sharply, as if realizing exactly what that meant. “Shit. Y/N, I—”

Viktor gave him a pointed look, and Jayce stopped, nodding in understanding. This wasn’t about fixing it. This was about being here.

Viktor’s hand, still on yours, gave a gentle squeeze. “You are safe,” he reminded you. “With us, always.”

Your breath hitched, but this time, it wasn’t from panic. It was from the overwhelming sense of love wrapped around you, steady and unwavering.

Jayce exhaled and ran a hand through his hair before resting his palm on your knee, warm and solid. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want. Ever.”

You nodded, still shaken but feeling less alone. Less like you were drowning. Viktor’s fingers traced slow, rhythmic patterns against the back of your hand, a silent reassurance.

“We can just stay like this,” Viktor murmured. “For as long as you need.”

The warmth of their presence enveloped you, a steady reminder that you weren’t alone. Viktor’s hand remained in yours, his touch light, patient, as if he was anchoring you to the moment. Jayce, still hesitant, moved just a little closer, his knee brushing against yours, testing the boundaries of what you could handle.

Minutes passed in silence, save for the quiet hum of the city outside. The steady tick of the clock on the wall gave a slow rhythm to your breaths, helping you count, helping you focus on the present instead of the ghosts clawing at the edges of your mind.

Jayce shifted, carefully, his fingers flexing on his knee before he spoke again. “Is there anything you need? Water? A blanket?” His voice was still thick with guilt, but it was softer now, focused on you, on making sure you were okay.

You hesitated, considering, before nodding. “Water… might help.”

Jayce stood immediately, as if grateful for something to do, and disappeared into the kitchen. The sound of cabinets opening and the faucet running grounded you further, the normalcy of it cutting through the lingering panic.

Viktor tilted his head slightly, watching you. “Would you like to talk about it?”

You chewed on your lip, unsure. Did you? The thought of saying it out loud made your throat tighten, but at the same time, you wanted them to understand. Needed them to know why your body reacted this way even when your mind told you you were safe.

Jayce returned, pressing a cold glass of water into your hands. You murmured a quiet thanks and took a sip, the cool liquid soothing your dry throat.

Finally, you exhaled. “It was a long time ago,” you began, voice barely above a whisper. “But sometimes… sometimes my body remembers before I do.”

Jayce sat back down beside you, his brows furrowed. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, frustration evident—but not at you. Never at you.

Viktor nodded, his expression unreadable, but his fingers gave another soft squeeze. “No, it is not. But you do not have to fight this alone.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, but this time, they weren’t from fear. They were from the sheer relief of being understood, of being loved despite the weight of your past. Viktor and Jayce didn’t ask for more than you could give. They didn’t push. They just stayed.

And right now, that was everything.

VANDER

The Last Drop had always been a place where time seemed to slow down. A haven for the weary, the broken, and the ones who had yet to be whole again. The flickering light from the lanterns cast a soft glow over the mismatched tables and worn stools, giving the place a sort of melancholic warmth. It had a life of its own, one that felt like a lullaby to those who found comfort here. But tonight, the usual chatter of laughter and boisterous conversation was missing. The bar was quieter than usual, and you could feel it in the air. Something was different.

Vander moved behind the bar with his usual fluid grace, his large hands skilled at cleaning glassware and wiping down counters. But there was something more to his movements tonight. The way his shoulders were drawn tight, as if he was carrying the weight of a thousand unsaid things. His eyes occasionally flicked toward you, noting the way you sat at the far end of the bar, your posture rigid, your gaze lost in the grain of the counter beneath your fingertips. You hadn’t even touched your drink, which was unusual for you. Your usual spark, the warmth in your expression that always made you stand out, was missing. Tonight, there was only a quiet storm behind your eyes, and Vander wasn’t one to ignore that.

He watched you for a moment longer before placing the rag down with a soft thud. The sound of it against the wooden bar seemed louder than it really was in the heavy silence. He made his way around the bar, his large frame blocking the faint light from the corner as he settled onto the stool beside you. It was a small gesture, but one that spoke volumes. He didn’t sit behind the counter, creating a divide between the two of you. He was right there, at your level, making it clear that he was present, not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to reach deep into your chest. “You alright, love?”

It was a simple question, but the tone of his voice, the gentle concern in it, made you flinch before you could even stop yourself. It was so small, barely noticeable to anyone else, but Vander didn’t miss a thing. His eyes softened, and he studied you for a long moment, looking for something you weren’t ready to show. You tried to force a smile, but it came out more like a thin line, your lips barely moving, and certainly not reaching your eyes.

“Just tired,” you mumbled, hoping the vague answer would be enough to satisfy him, to make him leave it alone. But Vander wasn’t someone who would settle for half-truths. Not when it came to you.

His gaze didn’t waver. “Y/N,” he said again, his voice low and steady. “You don’t have to tell me if you’re not ready, but somethin’ is weighin’ on you.”

The words hung in the air, heavy like lead, and for a long time, you didn’t say anything. What could you say? How could you explain it all without sounding weak? Without feeling like a failure? But Vander wasn’t asking you to explain. He wasn’t looking for your pain; he was just offering a place for it, a space where you didn’t have to carry it alone.

The silence between you stretched on, filled only by the quiet murmur of voices in the background. Finally, you sighed, the sound raw and full of weariness. You weren’t ready to tell him everything, but maybe you could start somewhere. Maybe just enough to take the weight off your chest, if only for a moment.

“Something happened,” you whispered, barely loud enough for him to hear. Your voice trembled despite yourself. “A long time ago. Before I came here. Someone—” You faltered, your throat tightening as memories flooded back, unwanted and sharp. The images came unbidden—faces, voices, moments you tried to bury deep within yourself. But they always resurfaced at the worst times.

Vander’s hand came down over yours, warm and steady, grounding you in a way no one else could. The simple touch of his palm against your trembling fingers was enough to silence the storm in your chest, even if just for a moment. He didn’t ask you to continue. He didn’t need you to tell him every detail. He just gave you the space to breathe. To be.

“You don’t have to tell me more than you want to,” he said softly, his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand in slow, reassuring circles. “But somethin’ happened to you, and I can see it’s still hauntin’ you.”

You swallowed hard, and for a moment, it felt like the world was spinning too fast. You didn’t want to admit it. You didn’t want to let him see you weak. But it was too much to keep inside. So, you let out a shaky breath and whispered, “It’s not easy to talk about.”

His gaze softened, but there was no pity in it. Just a quiet understanding that went deeper than anything words could express. He didn’t push you. He didn’t demand more than you could give. Instead, he waited, patiently, with the calm strength that was always there when you needed it most.

When you spoke again, it was barely above a whisper. “It’s just... sometimes it feels like it still has power over me. Like no matter how far I go, no matter how much time passes, it’s still there. Still lurking in the back of my mind.” You looked down at your hands, trying to steady them, but they were trembling, betraying you.

Vander’s grip tightened just a little, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you that you weren’t alone in this. “It doesn’t have power over you, love,” he said, his voice firm with conviction. “Not here. Not with me. No one’s ever gonna hurt you like that again. Not while I’m around.”

The weight of his words settled on your chest, a warmth spreading through you despite the cold ache that lingered in your heart. It was like the first breath of fresh air after a storm, the first ray of light after the dark. For a moment, you almost believed it. You almost believed that it really was over, that the past couldn’t reach you anymore. But then the walls you’d built inside yourself started to crack, and the tears you’d been holding back began to fall.

You didn’t try to hide them. Instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth surround you like a shield. Vander’s arms encircled you immediately, holding you close, strong but gentle. His scent—a mix of smoke, ale, and something deeper, something more comforting—filled your senses. It was the scent of safety. Of home.

“You’re safe, Y/N,” he murmured against your hair, his voice low and steady. “Always.”

And for the first time in so long, you believed him. You let yourself believe him, if only for this moment. Because with Vander, you knew that the darkness of the past could never reach you here. You were safe. You were whole. And in his arms, you had the peace you’d been searching for, even if just for tonight.

Vander didn’t speak again. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his presence a quiet reassurance that you weren’t alone, and that you never would be again.

SILCO

The rain drizzled against the windows of Silco's office, a gentle tapping that seemed to mirror the quiet storm in his mind. His usually sharp focus on the papers before him had waned, his dark eyes drifting, unfocused, to the water running down the glass. The rhythmic sound of the rain should’ve brought him peace, but today it only reminded him of the unease that had taken root inside him. It was an unusual occurrence for Silco, a man whose mind was always a step ahead, never easily distracted.

Y/N had been distant for the past few days, but today… today it was worse. She wasn’t just quiet or distracted. There was a heaviness in her gaze, a sadness that hung around her like a thick cloud. Silco had always been able to read people—had to be, to survive in the underbelly of Zaun. But with Y/N, it was different. Her pain, her struggles, never quite made sense to him. He knew she had a past, one that she rarely spoke of, but he never asked about it. Yet, now, he couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever haunted her had finally caught up to her, and it was something much worse than what he had imagined.

At first, he assumed it was just the stress of their work together—the constant battles with Piltover, the endless scheming, the weight of their shared ambitions. But today, as he watched her interact with the others in the hideout, he noticed small things. The way she flinched when one of the other members brushed past her, her hands trembling just slightly as she reached for a glass, and the hollow look in her eyes when she thought no one was watching.

It was when he had found her earlier in the hallway, almost jumping out of her skin when he stepped too close, that he finally understood. Something had happened. Something more than stress, more than the chaos of their lives. It was deeper. Darker. And Silco had no intention of letting her face it alone.

He had always been a man who kept his distance, preferring to watch and observe rather than reach out. But with Y/N… He had never wanted to be the type of man who ignored the pain of someone close to him. It didn’t matter how cold the world was, or how much the darkness seemed to consume everything—it mattered to him that she was safe. She mattered to him.

A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. He barely registered it, his mind still tangled in worry for her, but the sound was enough to bring him back to the present. He glanced up as Y/N stepped inside, her head down, eyes cast toward the floor. Her posture was small, like she was trying to make herself invisible, and that only made his heart ache more.

She was different now. Gone was the woman who once held herself with a quiet strength, confident and steady. In her place was a shell, fragile and cracked. Her pale face, usually so expressive, was now hollow, her eyes dull with the weight of some unseen burden. Silco could feel his own pulse quicken at the sight of her. He hated this. He hated seeing her like this.

"Y/N," his voice was steady but soft, a rare tenderness in the way he spoke. "Come here."

There was hesitation in her movement as she crossed the room, and Silco didn’t miss the way she kept her distance, as though afraid of being too close to him. It wasn’t like her. He could sense the hesitation, the quiet wariness in her actions, and it cut through him like a blade.

She finally stopped in front of him, her eyes refusing to meet his. She stood there, trembling slightly, as though unsure of what to do. Silco rose from his desk, his presence commanding but gentle as he approached her. He didn’t need to ask what had happened. He already knew. He had known for a while now, even before she had come to him for comfort.

He didn’t ask her to speak. She didn’t have to say a word. It was enough for him to see the way she struggled, the way she tried to hold herself together in the face of her pain.

"You don’t have to carry this alone," Silco murmured, his voice low and smooth, each word measured and deliberate. "Whatever happened… I’m here. You don’t need to keep it buried, Y/N."

Y/N’s lips trembled, her breath shaky as she forced herself to look up at him. Her eyes flickered with an emotion too raw for her to hide—fear, shame, pain. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the tears threatening to spill. Silco could see it all: the weight of her grief, the sorrow she tried so desperately to hide. And in that moment, he knew that she needed him. More than ever.

He didn’t wait for her to say anything. Instead, he stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently lift her chin, guiding her eyes to meet his. The warmth of his touch was enough to steady her for a moment, to make her feel grounded again.

"You are not broken," he said, his voice calm but firm, carrying a quiet authority. "Whatever has happened, whatever you’ve been through… it does not define you. You are not weak, Y/N. You are stronger than you think."

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, and for the first time, she let her guard down. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch as a sob broke free from her chest. She hadn’t allowed herself to cry for so long, hadn’t let herself feel the weight of everything she had been carrying. But with Silco, there was no need for restraint. There was no need to pretend to be strong when the pain was too much.

Silco’s thumb brushed gently across her cheek, wiping away the first of many tears that fell. His heart twisted with every drop, but he didn’t pull away. He wouldn’t leave her to suffer alone. Not now. Not ever.

"You’re not alone," he whispered, his voice breaking the silence. "I’m here. I’ll always be here. No one will hurt you again. Not while I’m around."

Y/N’s breath shuddered as she clung to him, her arms wrapping around his waist in a desperate need for comfort, for solace. Her tears soaked through the fabric of his coat, but he didn’t flinch. He held her close, feeling the tremors in her body as she let herself fall apart in his arms. She was broken, yes, but she was also stronger than she realized. And he would help her rebuild, piece by piece, if that’s what it took.

For a long time, they stood there in the quiet of his office, the only sound the steady rain against the glass and the muffled sobs of the woman who had come to mean more to him than he ever expected. And as she clung to him, Silco realized something he hadn’t before: he didn’t just want to protect her from the world. He wanted to protect her from the parts of herself she felt ashamed of, the parts that told her she wasn’t worth saving.

Silco gently lifted her head, his fingers brushing through her hair as he gazed down at her. His expression softened, his usual cold demeanor replaced by something warmer, something rare. "Rest now," he murmured. "You don’t need to carry the weight anymore. Let me carry it for you."

Y/N didn’t say anything, but the way she pressed her cheek against his chest told him everything he needed to know. She trusted him, in a way that felt sacred, and for once, Silco let himself feel the weight of that trust. He would protect her. He would stand by her side, no matter the cost.

For now, the world outside—the chaos, the schemes, the endless struggles—could wait. All that mattered was this moment. Silco and Y/N, two broken souls finding a quiet reprieve in each other’s arms.

And Silco… for all his ambition, for all his coldness, would be the one to show her that even in the darkest moments, there was still a glimmer of warmth waiting to be found.

MEL

The door to the bedroom creaked open slowly. Mel, fresh from a council meeting, entered, her heels clicking lightly against the floor. But something felt wrong—an unfamiliar stillness hung in the air. The usual warmth of their shared space was now replaced by an overwhelming silence.

As her eyes scanned the room, they found Y/N sitting by the window, her back hunched slightly. Mel’s heart tightened at the sight. Y/N’s hands were clasped tightly together, her shoulders trembling, and the soft sounds of stifled sobs drifted toward her.

“Y/N?” Mel’s voice was low and gentle as she moved toward her. She knelt in front of her, carefully reaching out to touch her lover’s hand, noticing how cold it felt. The contact was gentle, like a lifeline, but it sent a shiver of unease through Mel. Something was terribly wrong.

Y/N’s head snapped up at the sound of her name, her eyes red and swollen from crying. She immediately wiped at her face, but it was clear she hadn’t been able to hold it together for long, the rawness of her emotion still etched on her face.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice cracking with the weight of unspoken sorrow. She quickly tried to mask the pain in her eyes, but it was no use. She couldn't hide it from Mel.

Mel’s breath caught in her throat. She leaned closer, her voice soft, but filled with concern. “Y/N, love, no... Don’t apologize. You don’t need to hide anything from me.”

Mel gently cupped Y/N’s face, her thumb brushing away a stray tear that had fallen, while her other hand rested on Y/N’s trembling arm. The vulnerability in her lover’s eyes tore at Mel’s heart.

“What happened?” Mel asked softly, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s forehead, her touch like a balm to the raw, exposed feelings surrounding them. “You don’t have to say anything you’re not ready to, but I need you to know that you don’t have to go through this alone. I’m right here.”

Y/N sniffed, her chest tightening as she shook her head slightly. She didn’t want to say it—didn’t know how to say it—but the weight of her past was a shadow she couldn’t outrun. She hadn’t told Mel about this part of her life before, and it felt like a secret that would destroy everything if it came out. But the truth was suffocating her, pressing her to confess.

“I…” Y/N began, but the words lodged in her throat. She choked on her breath, her mind racing with the painful memories she had kept buried for so long. “I… I don’t know if I can say it. It’s just… it’s too much. I’m not strong enough.”

Mel sat down beside her, her presence a steady, unwavering comfort. She didn’t pressure Y/N, didn’t force her to speak before she was ready. Instead, she wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her close. Her touch was firm and safe, offering warmth and strength.

“Y/N, whatever it is, we’ll face it together. I promise,” Mel’s voice was quiet but filled with certainty, a pledge that she would never leave Y/N, not now, not ever. The words wrapped around Y/N like a shield, grounding her in the love they shared.

For a long moment, they simply sat there in silence. Y/N clung to Mel as if she were the only thing anchoring her to the present, the overwhelming flood of emotions threatening to drown her. And then, finally, the truth spilled out, her voice shaky and small, as if saying it aloud would make it all the more real.

“I was… I was hurt a long time ago. By someone I thought I could trust.” Y/N’s breath hitched, and she turned her face away from Mel for a moment, ashamed of the tears she couldn’t stop. Her heart raced as she spoke, the memories still sharp and painful. “I didn’t… I didn’t know how to tell you. I thought I could bury it, but it’s not gone. It’s… it’s still here.”

Mel’s heart shattered for her, but she didn’t say a word. She simply held Y/N tighter, pressing her cheek against the top of her head. She felt the tremble in Y/N’s body, the silent sobs that wracked her form.

“You don’t ever have to face this alone, Y/N,” Mel murmured, the words both a promise and a comfort. She let her lips brush against Y/N’s hair, smoothing her fingers over the back of her head, her hands gently coaxing Y/N to let go. “I’m here. I always will be. And this, what you’re feeling? It doesn’t define you. It doesn’t change who you are. You are so strong, but it’s okay to feel broken, love. It’s okay to feel anything.”

Y/N’s body shook, the weight of everything coming to the surface. It wasn’t just the hurt of the past—it was the shame, the guilt, the sense of having lost something she would never get back. But in Mel’s arms, she felt a safe place to let go, a place where the dark corners of her mind couldn’t reach her.

“I’m so sorry,” Y/N whispered, her voice barely audible, full of guilt and fear. “I should’ve told you before. I should’ve been stronger…”

Mel pulled back just enough to look Y/N in the eye, cupping her face gently. “No, love, you don’t have to be strong for me. You just need to be you. And you are enough. More than enough. I love you, and nothing in this world, not even your past, will change that.” Her words were firm, resolute. The sincerity in her gaze was clear, her devotion evident in every syllable.

Y/N finally let herself break. She cried freely, her tears flowing without shame, without restraint. She had carried these burdens for so long, but with Mel there, holding her, whispering comforting words, she felt a sense of relief she hadn’t known she needed.

And in that moment, Mel held her—no words needed—just the warmth of her embrace and the unspoken promise that they would heal together, one step at a time.

Mel kissed Y/N’s forehead again, her hand gently stroking her back. “You are not alone in this, Y/N. I will never leave you. Not for any reason. Not for anything.”

The weight of those words, the depth of Mel’s love, was a balm to Y/N’s soul. Slowly, the tears began to subside, but Y/N didn’t pull away from Mel. Instead, she let the quiet comfort of her presence settle in, the warmth of their connection something she could lean on as they faced the future together.

Mel stayed with her, never rushing her to stop crying, never pressuring her to move forward before she was ready. They stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the healing begin.

[physalian]

Pacing your Story (Or, How to Avoid the "Suddenly...!")

Arguably *the* most important lesson all writers need to learn, even for those who don’t give a damn about themes and motifs and a moral soap box: How your story is paced, whether it’s a comic book, a children’s chapter book, a doorstopper, a mini series, a movie, or a full-length season of TV (old school style), pacing is everything.

Pacing determines how long the story *feels* regardless of how long it actually is. It can make a 2 hour movie feel like 90 mins or double the time you’re trapped in your seat.

There’s very little I can say about pacing that hasn’t been said before, but I’m here to condense all that’s out there into a less intimidating mouthful to chew.

So: What is pacing?

Pacing is how a story flows, how quickly or slowly the creator moves through and between scenes, how long they spend on setting, narration, conversation, arguments, internal monologues, fight scenes, journey scenes. It’s also how smoothly tone transitions throughout the story. A fantasy adventure jumping around sporadically between meandering boredom, high-octane combat, humor, grief, and romance is exhausting to read, no matter how much effort you put into your characters.

Anyone who says the following is wrong:

Good pacing is always fast/bad pacing is always slow

Pacing means you are 100% consistent throughout the entire story

It doesn’t matter as much so long as you have a compelling story/characters/lore/etc

Now let me explain why in conveniently numbered points:

1. Pacing is not about consistency, it’s about giving the right amount of time to the right pieces of your story

This is not intuitive and it takes a long time to learn. So let’s look at some examples:

Lord of the Rings: The movies trimmed a *lot* from the books that just weren’t adaptable to screen, namely all the tedious details and quite a bit of the worldbuilding that wasn’t critical to the journey of the Fellowship. That said, with some exceptions, the battles are as long as they need to be, along with every monologue, every battle speech. When Helm’s Deep is raging on, we cut away to Merry and Pippin with the Ents to let ourselves breathe, then dive right back in just before it gets boring.

The Hobbit Trilogy: The exact opposite from LotR, stretching one kids book into 3 massive films, stuffing it full of filler, meandering side quests, pointless exposition, drawing out battles and conflicts to silly extremes, then rushing through the actual desolation of Smaug for… some reason.

Die Hard (cause it’s the Holidays y’all!): The actiony-est of action movies with lots of fisticuffs and guns and explosions still leaves time for our hero to breathe, lick his wounds, and build a relationship with the cop on the ground. We constantly cut between the hero and the villains, all sharing the same radio frequency, constantly antsy about what they know and when they’ll find out the rest, and when they’ll discover the hero’s kryptonite.

2. Make every scene you write do at least two things at once

This is also tricky. Making every scene pull double duty should be left to after you’ve written the first draft, otherwise you’ll never write that first draft. Pulling double duty means that if you’re giving exposition, the scene should also reveal something about the character saying it. If you absolutely must write the boring trip from A to B, give some foreshadowing, some thoughtful insight from one of your characters, a little anecdote along the way.

Develop at least two of the following:

The plot

The backstory

The romance/friendships

The lore

The exposition

The setting

The goals of the cast

Doing this extremely well means your readers won’t have any idea you’re doing it until they go back and read it again. If you have two characters sitting and talking exposition at a table, and then those same two characters doing some important task with filler dialogue to break up the narrative… try combining those two scenes and see what happens.

**This is going to be incredibly difficult if you struggle with making your stories longer. I do not. I constantly need to compress my stories. **

3. Not every scene needs to be crucial to the plot, but every scene must say something

I distinguish plot from story like a square vs a rectangle. Plot is just a piece of the tale you want to tell, and some scenes exist just to be funny, or romantic, or mysterious, plot be damned.

What if you’re writing a character study with very little plot? How do you make sure your story isn’t too slow if 60% of the narrative is introspection?

Avoid repeating information the audience already has, unless a reminder is crucial to understanding the scene

This isn’t 1860 anymore. Every detail must serve a purpose. Keep character and setting descriptions down to absolute need-to-know and spread it out like icing on a cake – enough to coat, but not give you a mouthful of whipped sugar and zero cake.

Avoid describing generic daily routines, unless the existence of said routine is out of ordinary for the character, or will be rudely interrupted by chaos. No one cares about them brushing their teeth and doing their hair.

Make sure your characters move, but not too much. E.g. two characters sitting and talking – do humans just stare at each other with their arms lifeless and bodies utterly motionless during conversation? No? Then neither should your characters. Make them gesture, wave, frown, laugh, cross their legs, their arms, shift around to get comfortable, pound the table, roll their eyes, point, shrug, touch their face, their hair, wring their hands, pick at their nails, yawn, stretch, pout, sneer, smirk, click their tongue, clear their throat, sniff/sniffle, tap their fingers/drum, bounce their feet, doodle, fiddle with buttons or jewelry, scratch an itch, touch their weapons/gadgets/phones, check the time, get up and sit back down, move from chair to table top – the list goes on. Bonus points if these are tics that serve to develop your character, like a nervous fiddler, or if one moves a lot and the other doesn’t – what does that say about the both of them? This is where “show don’t tell” really comes into play.

4. Your entire work should not be paced exactly the same

Just like a paragraph should not be filled with sentences of all the same length and syntax. Some beats deserve more or less time than others. Unfortunately, this is unique to every single story and there is no one size fits all.

General guidelines are as follows:

Action scenes should have short paragraphs and lots of movement. Cut all setting details and descriptors, internal monologues, and the like, unless they service the scene.

Journey/travel scenes must pull double or even triple duty. There’s a reason very few movies are marketed as “single take” and those that are don’t waste time on stuff that doesn’t matter. See 1917.

Romantic scenes are entirely up to you. Make it a thousand words, make it ten thousand, but you must advance either the romantic tension, actual movement of the characters, conversation, or intimacy of the relationship.

Don’t let your conversations run wild. If they start to veer off course, stop, boil it down to its essentials, and cut the rest.

When transitioning between slow to faster pacing and back again, it’s also not one size fits all. Maybe it being jarring is the point – it’s as sudden for the characters as it is for the reader. With that said, try to keep the “suddenly”s to a minimum.

5. Pacing and tone go hand in hand

This means that, generally speaking, the tone of your scene changes with the speed of the narrative. As stated above, a jarring tonal shift usually brings with it a jarring pacing shift.

A character might get in a car crash while speeding away from an abusive relationship. A character who thinks they’re safe from a pursuer might be rudely and terrifyingly proven wrong. An exhausting chase might finally relent when sanctuary is found. A quiet dinner might quickly turn romantic with a look, or confession. Someone casually cleaning up might discover evidence of a lie, a theft, an intruder and begin to panic.

--

Whatever the case may be, a narrative that is all action all the time suffers from lack of meaningful character moments. A narrative that meanders through the character drama often forgets there is a plot they’re supposed to be following.

[ynsvnte]

Lady Love ! — Sim Jaeyun

Genre: arranged marriage, strangers to lovers, drabble, royal au, fluff?

wc: 985

warnings: petnames (sweetheart), one kiss

pairing: prince!jake x princess!reader

Synopsis: you hated the fact you were being sent off to get married. You don’t even know your future husband. You thought badly of him..only to find out the quite opposite

Masterlist

You sighed, staring out the window of the carriage.. you didn’t want to meet your so called future husband. It’s stupid on how your parents chose your spouse for you.. and their reasoning being “Oh! We must keep this tradition alive!” Well you don’t like this tradition. Seriously, how does your own mother think that when she got with your father the same way? You look over to see a castle from a distance. The carriage slowly came to a stop. You wanted to just disappear. You don’t know whether you are nervous or annoyed, probably maybe even both. You try to shake off the feeling. You hear the door opening, facing the direction.. your bodyguard comes in sight announcing..

“We have arrived Princess..Yn..” He says moving to the side to let you get through while holding his hand out. You take his hand carefully stepping out of your carriage. You admire the Greek styled castle.. that’s until you hear your mother’s voice.

“Yn! You’ve arrived my sweetheart..I thought you got lost on your way here!” She said with worry.. you shake your head.. slightly embarrassed.

“No..sorry mother for taking a little longer..” you say hoping to ease her a bit. Your mother sighs in relief before your father speaks up.

“Come on now.. we’ve come here for one reason and we don’t want to keep him waiting..” you wanted to roll your eyes. Since when did you agree to this!?! Never. You don’t get why you don’t choose on your own.

“Yes..father..” you say with a polite voice.. oh how you wanted to shout at his face.. you all approach the castle’s door.. slowly opening.. it reveals a long hallway full of butlers and maids ready to take any command. They all stare at you making you a little nervous. Not like you were nervous a whole lot.

“Your highness.. the family is waiting for you in the meeting room..” one maid said bowing. “Follow me..” she added.. you follow her, your nerves going up each second as you get closer. You wonder how he looks, how he acts, what would he think of you? Questions were quickly filling up your mind to the point you didn’t realize you'd arrived at the door..

“Yn.? Yn? Sweetie?” You heard your name ring called. You slightly shake a bit before facing your mother.. “Y-yes..?” You asked..fidgeting with your fingers.. “Are you alright??” she looks at your concern. “Huh..yeah I’m fine..” totally fine.. NO! You were a mess!! Of course you weren’t fine. “Oh alright, are you ready?..” What?!?! No!?! If you could, you'd definitely jump off a bridge. “I guess..” nope.

With that you walk into the room seeing the old couple sitting down discussing something until they notice your presence. Stopping, they smile at you softly. They don’t seem that bad..but that doesn’t mean the same as for their son.

“You must be yn..” the old man asked. You nodded your head.. “Yes, your highness, that would be me.” You said politely, bowing. “No need to be formal..as you’ll be marrying my son..” you put on a fake smile.. hoping it was somewhat believable. You take a seat..somewhat calmer than before. You sit in your seat as your parents talk with his parents. You can’t believe these two will be your in-laws. You sigh with boredom. Your gaze lands in the stained glass window.. the sunlight leaving a beautiful color on the table. That’s when you hear a deep voice.

“Sorry for being late mother and father..” it’s him.. you don’t want to turn around but can’t help it. “Oh my son!” His dad says cheerfully getting up and walking towards him. You slowly turn around and see him. You’re beyond shocked he was..very.. handsome.. very much your type. He looks like a golden retriever of some sort.. his presence felt so..bubbly. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. Air caught in your throat. His black hair is nicely styled, brown eyes with a sparkle, and oh, that sweet smile of his.. but looks can’t say all. The prince.. greets his parents before greeting yours. Your eyes followed his every movement. He eventually turned his direction towards you. You quickly get up too much for your liking, and bow..

“It’s nice to meet you..?” The prince starts off.. “Yn…” you say softly. Your heart skips a beat. “Yn..lovely name..” He takes your hand and kisses it.. “Name’s Jaeyun.. but just call me Jake, sweetheart..” Sweetheart oh you could definitely faint on the spot.

“How about you two get to know a little more about each other..” his mother suggested.. “Of course mother.. here come with me..” he says before taking your wrist in his hand. He takes you over to the backyard revealing a huge field..

“So yn.. I’ll be marrying you..” Right.. “yeah..” you said awkwardly.. “Not bad..I wasn’t expecting someone like you.. more quiet than most..and definitely very very beautiful..” oh gosh he just called you beautiful. You can feel your face getting warm, maybe it’s just the weather. “Thank you..” Jake nodded his head.. “I didn’t agree to this.. parents choice.. but now that I think about it I don’t mind at all now..” Jake adds leaving you stunned so he felt the same way.. “Huh..me too.” You say with wide eyes looking at him.. Jake could just kiss you right now, but he had some self control in him. “Feelings are mutual..so you don’t mind being my wife?” Oh now he was teasing you. “What? I never said anything..”

“I know but the way your body language is speaking right now says the opposite, but don’t worry sweetheart.. I don’t mind you being my wife.” Jake says before kissing you on the lips and walking away leaving you flustered. Oh boy were you so happy.

Author’s Note: I did it yay! Umm I thought of this out of nowhere and just liked the idea so here it is .. this was what I was straying to finish.

© ynsvnte copyright 2024

[feyre-darling92]

Task Force 141+ Alejandro Headcanons

They find you sleeping on the couch

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

He comes home late from work, exhausted after a particularly long day, longing for your touch, to hear your voice.

However he receives no response after calling your name a couple of times

He is frightened that something happened, the only thought crossing his mind being that something bad has happened. With a gun in his hands he slowly moves to the living room only to find you snoring on the couch.

Breathing out in relief, he puts the gun away, softly muttering “You’re going to be the death of me love” 

Placing a kiss on your cheek and adjusting the blanket that had fallen on the ground, he takes his time to admire you.

“You know it’s not very polite to stare” you mumble with a sleepy voice without opening your eyes.

He smiles to himself and takes your hand, “How can I not stare when you’re right in front of me?”

Seeing you blushing always amuses him

“Missed you” “Missed you too”

Despite your protests he picks you up, bridal style, and moves you to bed.

“Simon, you’re in bed with your work clothes” you say as you turn on your side getting comfortable.

“Shut up and sleep, love”

Johnny ‘Soap’ McTavish

Just like Simon he worries a little when you don’t answer to him calling your name

He finds you sleeping with the television open, watching the tv show you watched together.

Turning it off, he kisses you and you wake up.

“You’re home” you yawn, kissing him again

“You were watching the tv show without me” he pretends to be angry and even thought you deny it he doesn’t believe you

One kiss on the cheek and he forgets it

However, he lies on top of you, trapping you between him and the cushions as a punishment

“Johnny get up” you playfully push him away, yet the big man he is he doesn’t move an inch “No” he responses burying his nose at the crook of your neck

Your protests stop here and you wrap your hands around him

Needless to say, you both sleep that night at the couch

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick

“Darling, I’m home” he excitingly rushes to the living room of your shared apartment only to find you asleep and half off the couch

He tries to laugh quietly, unsuccessfully

With gentle moves he lifts you and brings you to your bed

You however wake up while in his arms

“You’re late” you kiss his cheek, “Is this my shirt?” “Maybe”

You slide under the covers and wait for him, but after a few moments of not feeling him by your side you open your eyes

He is actually watching you, so much in love with you that he can’t help himself admiring you 

You put him out of his thoughts by throwing a pillow at him

“So, you have chosen death” he chuckles and jumps to the bed, tickling you

No matter how much you protest he continues and only when you’re out of breath he stops

“I love you” “I love you too” you hug him through the covers

John Price

It is past midnight when he returns from the base, the paperwork keeping him away from you

All of his exhaustion immediately leaves when he finds you asleep on the couch, reports still in your hands

He can’t help the smile appearing on his lips 

He moves to take the paper from your hands, or at least tries to because you wake up

“Hello, handsome” you say with a sleepy voice

“Hello, my darling” 

He sits next to you, gently stroking your hair, “How was your day?” you continue trying to convince him that you’re not sleepy anymore

“Good. Now it’s better. Should we go to bed?” “No, I’m awake”

You’re not in fact fully awake 

“Sure thing” he picks you up like a baby and you wrap your hands around his neck

However you refuse to let him go, “Love, will you let me go?” he chuckles

“No” your grip around him tightens

“Alright” He lets himself sink on the bed with you, shoes and gear still on, “Should we at least get under the covers?” he asks after a few minutes only to hear you snoring.

The next morning you wake up under the covers with John asleep next to you

Alejandro Vargas

“Cariño, I’m home” he enters the house only to be met with silence

The first thing he notices is a plate of warm food on the table, waiting for him

He can’t help but melt at the gesture

His eyes immediately find your sleeping form

He tries to approach you quietly but the wooden floor creaks underneath his boots, waking you up

You wake up from the sound, lifting your head to see who’s there

When you realize it’s Alejandro your eyes soften and you run to him

Wrapping his arms around you he hugs you tightly, “I missed you” “I missed you too”

He takes a moment to observe you, loose ponytail and sleepy eyes only make him to adore you more

“Should we go to bed?” he asks but you say no, “You should eat first”

He tries to convince you that he’s fine but you finally win and you both sit at the table talking about your day

Once his is done you both go to bed and lie down together in each others’ arms 

It’s a peaceful evening

[totalswag]

tell me if you like it — RAFE CAMERON

authors note HIGHLY recommend you listen to me & you by cassie remix because it gives me total rafe vibes. i'm so close to 800 lovies, i adore you all. i switched my style with line dividers and i'm probably gonna stick with it for now on.

summary you've had your eyes on rafe cameron for sometime now and everyone knows your attraction towards him. you attend one of his parties one friday night with your girlfriends and make your official move on the kook king.

warnings drinking, smoking, alcohol, drugs, partying, kissing/making out, mentions of sex,

Rafe Cameron sent out a text about throwing a party at his place while Ward and Rose are out of town for the weekend. The minute word got out people were talking about the party.

You knew the instant after receiving the text that tonight would be the night you made your official move on Rafe Cameron. Everyone, including Cameron, knows you've had your eye on him for a while.

Rafe is waiting for you to make your final move, according to Topper and Kelce. To you, he appears to be playing a game, a waiting game. So you've been playing the game he prefers.

You’ve always wondered why Rafe himself hasn’t made his move on you yet. The thought runs through your mind occasionally.

The party was full when you arrived. People were drunk, smoking weed, doing other drugs, dancing, and who knows what else.

You came in with your head held high, scanning the crowd for your friend group, but first you needed a drink.

You walked into the kitchen, which was stocked with various types of alcohol. You are craving seltzer, so you grabbed a truly from the fridge. You went on a search for your friends after closing the frigid.

Your name was called from the corner of the house by the girls. When you saw them wave you over, you turned in their direction. When they saw you approaching, their mouths dropped open.

"I must say Y/N, you look so hot!" Ella, one of your best friends, says she's hyping you up by gazing at you up and down.

"If Rafe doesn't get you tonight, he's definitely going to miss out," Melina says, resting against the wall.

The other girls agreed with Melina and Ella's comments.

"You two are really kind. Plus, y'all look so good I might melt" you compliment them back.

"I'll be making my final move on him; I just need to find him first," you say with a nice smile, gazing over your shoulder for Cameron boy.

"Dude we saw him earlier walking out back to smoke a blunt with Kelce but haven't seen him since" Ella informs you.

Thirty minutes go by, you four are dancing together to the beat of the music. Laughing and drinking together while listening to music that keeps you dancing.

For the past five minutes you can feel eyes on you the entire time you’ve been dancing with the girls. You lift your head up slowly, Rafe is standing with a group of his friends.

You’ve been waiting so long, I’m here to answer your call.

I know that I shouldn’t have had you waiting at all.

You two lock eyes. No one is breaking it.

He's dressed in a white tee, black cargo pants, a gold chain around his neck, and a snapback. Oh, that gold chain.

As you continue to dance to the beat of the song, tension builds in your body. Knowing Rafe is watching gives you excitement. You look over your shoulder, he's looking at you amongst the crowd of people.

You tell the girls as you pull away you are gonna have a little chat with Rafe for a moment but knowing that will be a for a while.

When Rafe sees you getting closer, he feels his body tense up. More so with excitement.

“Hey Rafe,” you smiled nicely, giving him a hug, running your hand down his arm.

He wraps his arm around you, “hey Y/N” Rafe says, looking down at you softly, “How are you enjoying the party?” He asks before taking a sip of his drink in his free hand.

“Yeah, I am. My friends and I have been having a great time” You say, trying to play it off you are about to make your final move.

Throughout the conversation, you keep eye contact, something you've always done with people. Conversation was casual yet with a hint of flirtatious moments.

Rafe's body communicates that he is attempting to maintain his calm. You tilt your head slightly, a smile spreading across your face.

"If you girls need anything I'll be around the house," he lets you know, moving his hand in a circling motion.

Your thinking tells you to say something that will catch him off guard.

Slowly nodding, stepping on your tiptoes, placing your free hand around Rafe's neck and dragging him to your height, "What if I need something from you?" Your voice sounded enticing, as you pull away.

Your gaze lands on the gold chain. Playing with it, twisting it with your index finger. 

Rafe's lip slides against his bottom lip, forming into a smirk. He knows what you are doing to him. He likes it.

I know I shouldn't have you waiting at all.

I've been so busy, but I've been thinking about you.

What I wanna do to you.

"Oh really, what would that be? enlighten me,"

Oh he's really good you think to yourself.

"I think you know what I mean, Rafe."

"I don't think I do, Y/N," mocking your tone.

In your mind, you want to go and see what he does, or you want to stay by his side for the rest of the night and sleep in his sheets. It can go either way, but you'll most likely be in his sheets, or not.

You finally inform Rafe that you'll be getting back to your girlfriends, who are waiting for you someplace in the home. The look on his face indicated that he did not want you to leave him.

He leans nearer and places his hand on your wrist, "No, don't leave right now. Can I give you a tour of the the house?" He suggested.

You give him a questionable look as if you were debating it.

"Vip access for special people,"

Jack pot.

"I would love that."

The rest of the night, you stayed at Rafe's side. You had him hooked around your finger and it only took you a few words out your mouth. The expressions on your girls' faces were wonderful; they were secretly cheering you on across the room. Of course, they kept a close eye on you while enjoying themselves.

When Rafe took you around the house, he made sure you had the best tour of your life. You could not believe how large the house was. He showed you his room last, which was maintained clean and tidy. His tv is on the wall below his dresser. The smell of cologne flooded your lungs and smelled pleasant.

After, you two took a few shots, smoked a joint, played drinking games, danced, and made out.

You now have your back against Rafe's chest, and his hand is around your waist, holding you close. You'll occasionally move your hips to the side to the beat of the song, causing him to pull you closer.

Everyone has taken to the dance floor in the huge living room. You both circle all of Rafe's buddies. You've met them many times before. Your girlfriends were a few feet away.

Rafe's hand was gliding itself up and down your waist then your ass giving it a couple squeezes.

You turn around and place both hands on his lower the abdomen. You looked at each other with lust and desperation. You examine his lips first, contemplating whether you should kiss him first. You do. 

Lips moved in sync. Tongues fighting for dominance. The feeling felt electric. Your body was craving him more and more.

"I think it's time I gave me another good tour, but this time in my bedroom," he breathlessly mumble in your ear, eager.

You groan from his words, nodding.

The way he spoke those words to you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Excitement in your lower stomach started jumping.

Before you head upstairs, Rafe wraps his arm around Topper's shoulder, whispers in his ear, "Make sure you get these people out of here in an hour, then you can either stay here or go home." Topper nods and pats his shoulder.

You couldn't take your hands off each other on the way up to his bedroom; laughing, touching, and kissing. 

"You look so beautiful tonight, couldn't take my eyes off you," he says as he lays you on his soft sheets, runs his hands down your sides, and admires your physique.

The words coming out Rafe's mouth made your cheeks grow red. You watch Rafe's eyes scan your body before he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your body.

You feel yourself grow impatient, Rafe senses it, he smirks.

"Don't worry, angel, we're just getting started," he said, dropping his head, kissing your stomach, and moving closer to your underwear line.

Your hands slide through his hair, gently pulling, eliciting a gasp from Rafe's lips. You smirk at yourself.

Pulls your skirt down and throws your underwear across the room before bringing itching closer to your core. Chills run down your spine, and you breathe heavily as Rafe's breath fans on your bare core.

The sexual tension grows stronger. Rest of your night consisted of the both of your moans filling the bedroom.

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[weneeya]

hi!hi!!! this is the same person who requested tht office romance w/ kuroo last time hehe. i love your writing style so much bc its easy for someone like me (who has a deteriorating brain functioning system from all of the brainrot ive been influenced by the internet) to understand and imagine in my silly deluional head XDDD anyways !! id like to request dad! headcanons for the black jackals (specifically, hinata, sakusa, atsumu and bokuto^^) omg maybe a scenario where they find out that reader is pregnant then proceed with the headcanon with how they act with the kid/s i just needed to request this bc my baby fever has been progressively getting worst and i just cant stop thinking abt kids :']] GOODLUCK AND I WISH U WELLLL !!! <3333

baby fever m.list | rules

pairing. msby x reader

characters. hinata, atsumu, sakusa, bokuto

note. omg thank you sm I'm so happy you loved the one with Kuroo because i loved writing it sm!! and i probably the idea even more because omg the boys as dads?? it's genius idk why i've never did it before! i hope you'll love it just as much <3

⎯ Hinata Shoyo

You had been trying to have a baby with Shoyo for a few weeks already, but it was like fate was against the two of you because you seemed to not be able to end up pregnant. You were slowly starting to lose hope ; thank God Hinata was way too positive and optimistic to even think about the worst. It was helping you, in a way. 

He was at the gym to train for their next matches when you learned the good news. You didn’t hesitate twice before almost rushing to join him. He was talking with his team, most specifically Bokuto, when you arrived like a fury. Shoyo looked at you with a big smile and you waved at him. He came to you in no time. 

“You seemed happy. What’s the news?” He asked with his usual smile, and you almost felt the tears in your eyes. You took his hands between yours, trying not to talk too loudly. “We did it Shoyo! I’m pregnant!” And your words didn’t get the time to fall in the silence. 

Hinata held you tightly between his arms, carrying you off the ground and spinning around with you in his arms. Right after your feet finally met the floor again, he cupped your face with his hands to kiss you. “I told you, we needed to be patient!” And you were sure that the rest of the team was going to learn the news sooner than later. 

good with children ; he has a little sister after all 

always so patient no matter what 

not the type to ever yell, so when he get to angry mod, the kid stop immediately 

will talk a lot about highschool and his friends ; so proud 

take pictures all the time, videos too ; a lot of memories of your baby boy 

ready to take a break from volleyball so he could give all his time to you and the baby

⎯ Miya Atsumu

Saying that Atsumu was scared of having children was an euphemism. The man was absolutely terrified by the idea. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to have a child with you, of course not ; it was just the responsibilities which were so stressful for him. He kept acting cool at first but after some time you’ve been able to understand what was going on inside of his mind. 

Until you’ve been confronted with reality. You were alone in the bathroom, and Atsumu was waiting for you right outside of the room. Things were a bit weird with your body lately and you both noticed it. So it wasn’t so surprising that you took a test just to be sure. 

You got out of the bathroom, and your gaze met Atsumu’s eyes. You slowly showed him the test, and he could quickly read the answer he was waiting for. You were pregnant. He looked back at you, and he saw that you were about to say something he didn’t want to hear from you. 

“Don’t ever say you're sorry,” he started, slowly caressing your cheek with his thumb. “It’s the best news you could have told me. Because we’re going to have the most beautiful baby ever, and I’m going to love you two until the end of my days.” This time, you couldn’t really help the tears which felt down your cheeks. You closed your eyes, and he left a kiss against your forehead. 

“I love you,” you told him in a whisper, and he couldn’t help but to smile slowly. “I love you too,” was his answer before he held you tight between his arms. He was scared, of course ; but he couldn’t be happier at the same time because God knew how much he loved you. 

the man is an overprotective mother ; almost like he was the one who bear the baby 

careful about absolutely everything 

acts cool but stressed when something doesn’t go as planned 

girl’s dad at 100% 

loves to be considered as a princess ; will wear a dress and a tiara 

bringing gifts all the time, especially when away because of volleyball

⎯ Sakusa Kiyoomi

You already talked about having children with Sakusa, but the conversation was never ending well. In fact, it always ended up in an argument. Your partner was completely closed at the discussion and you couldn’t understand why. 

So when you learned that you were actually pregnant, fear ran over you. You cried a lot, for a long time. How were you supposed to say this to him? Was he going to leave you? You were so scared, and it was messing with your poor mind. 

Sakusa came home after practice, and he found you in your bed, curled up in the blanket to hide yourself. A sigh left his lips before he took place right beside you after being ready to do so. “What are you hiding from me? Don’t say nothing, I know you too well. There’s something wrong.” 

You looked at him and he frowned immediately when he saw the redness of your eyes. You had been crying for quite a while, so he knew he was right ; even if he hoped to be wrong. He slowly caressed your cheek, waiting for you to find the strength to tell him. 

“Kiyoomi… I’m pregnant…” You told him in a little voice, and his eyes widened almost right now. He blinked a few times, and you looked away, feeling the tears coming back. “I know, we talked about it, but I…” 

Sakusa grabbed your chin with all the softness in the world, making you look back at him. He left a small kiss against your lips. “I couldn’t be happier, my love, I swear.” It was your turn to stay silent, all blinking. This is how you learned that the only reason behind Kiyoomi’s anger towards pregnancy was actually fear because of all the complications. 

But if it was for you, he was ready to take the risk. Because having a baby with you was all he could dream of. You just needed to be careful. 

biggest girl’s dad ever 

will do anything for his baby girl ; even if it meant going out with ribbon in his hair 

discreet about his private life but when he sees you two during his matches? can’t hide much longer 

completely devoted but still know how to be a little strict 

wants his child to have the best education so he’s careful about everything 

get scared every time the baby is just a little sick 

overly protective ; especially when it comes to boy close to his girl

⎯ Bokuto Koutaro

He was made to be a father, you were sure about it. He loved children so much, there was no way he wouldn’t be happy to learn that you were pregnant. But it was still pretty stressful for you, because you were never sure of anything with Bokuto. 

Today was the day, because he was finally coming back home after being away with his teams for a few weeks. You couldn’t announce this to him on the phone so you had to wait for him to come back. When he entered your shared apartment, he had a huge smile on his lips. Being able to finally reunite with you was all he could ask for. 

You were sitting on the couch, and he almost immediately jumped on you. As the yapper he was, he started to talk about his trip and everything that happened. But you seemed lost in your thoughts, and he noticed it quickly. 

“What’s wrong babe?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. You met his gaze and a sigh left your lips. “I have something to tell you,” you started, and Bokuto slowly frowned his eyebrows. Something was weird, and he didn’t like it at all. He stayed strangely silent while you were trying to find the right words to tell him the news. 

Another long sigh left your lips before you finally decided to say it out loud. “I’m pregnant, Kou.” And the silence after that was long. Too long for you, and you started to worry. Until a huge smile appeared on his lips. He grabbed your hands, eyes wide. “We’re expecting a baby? Really?” 

It was like all your worries fled away at this exact moment, and you slowly nodded with a smile on your own lips. “Yes, we’re expecting a baby.” Nothing could go wrong if it was with Bokuto after all. 

neither a girl’s dad or a boy’s dad ; just devoted and obsessed with his children 

had probably cry more than you when he saw your baby for the first time 

it’s like the accomplishment of his entire life 

not really the strict parent ; doing half of the stupidities with your boy 

will obviously teach him volleyball at the youngest age 

always playing with your son when he can ; doing his best to be as present as possible 

will show him to the camera during his interviews after a match 

always talking about you or the baby to everyone ; really the proudest 

a kid himself so obviously he know what to do to make the baby boy laugh 

thank you for reading!