#and the gifs make it look even longer.........

[crypticgrayson]

Round and Round

Pairing: Front Man/ Hwang In-ho x F!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, lil bit of angst

Summary: Quick one shot about the mingle game, reader is a participant in the games.

Part 2

You inhaled a deep breath as your eyes took in the circular room you just entered, a comically large merry go around horse in the center of it, surrounded by a round red platform. You looked at the walls next, seeing different colored doors before Gi-Hun grabbed your arm to pull you along with him and the others towards the platform.

“Do you have any idea what this is supposed to be?” Gi-Hun asked, shaking your head in response before you turned to Young-Il stood on your other side, a cold look on his face, snapping out of it when your eyes met his. “How about you?” You asked him, a sigh escaping Young-Il’s lips before shaking his head, “I’m blanking as well”

“It could be a form of Mingle? Make teams and enter a room” Jung-Bae joined in, before the lights suddenly turned off, feeling a hand grabbing either of your arms. Some smaller lights turned on instead, seeing the hands belonged to Gi-Hun and Young-Il. A children’s song started to play as you felt the platform beneath your feet kick into motion, grabbing onto the two men beside you to steady yourself.

You closed your eyes for a moment to keep your ground, feeling yourself grow dizzy because of the spinning platform, the colored doors zooming past your vision. “Y/N, you okay?” Young-Il’s voice sounded close to your ear, making you open your eyes again as you looked up at him to quickly nod your head. The platform suddenly came to a halt which almost sent the three of you to the floor when Gi-Hun lost his footing, but he managed to hold his balance.

“Five, please form a group and enter a room” A female voice spoke over the speaker when the song stopped, making you look back at Jung-Bae who was already making his way over. “One more” Gi-Hun sighed, before your eyes fell on Hyun-Ju looking around frantically, searching for people to join. “Hyun-Ju!” You yelled, making her eyes snap to yours before running over, the five of you running towards an empty room.

Young-Il closed the door behind you as a lock slipped into place, locking you inside. After 1 minute passed some people still hadn’t made it into a room, all the doors closing suddenly, gunshots sounding through the room not much later before the lights turned off again. You sank down to the ground as you felt your heart beat loudly against your chest, placing your hand on top and taking a few deep breaths.

You could feel someone sit down next to you and could make out the contours of Hyun-Ju’s face as she wrapped an arm around you, the seconds ticking by painfully slow before the door swung open again as the lights came back on. Young-Il extended a hand to you to help you up, the five of you walking back to the red platform, blood splatters scattered around the room. You held on to Hyun-Ju when the platform started spinning again as the song sounded too, fighting the urge to close your eyes.

“Four” The female voice sounded when the platform came to a halt, panic in your eyes when you looked at your group of five. “Go! I’ll find another group” Young-Il yelled, pushing the four of you off the platform. You reached out to grab his arm but before you could clutch onto his jacket he turned around to make his way through the crowd, calling out his name but Gi-Hun and Hyun-Ju pulled you along with them to follow Jung-Bae to an empty room.

When the door locked behind you again you moved on your tiptoes to look through the slit in the door, but it was too difficult to locate him in the chaos outside. When the gunshots sounded again the hairs on your arms stood up as a shiver went down your spine, the wait for the door to open somehow feeling even longer than the previous round.

When the door finally opened you pushed it open as quick as you could, the four of you looking around before your eyes finally fell on the man you were searching for, a broad smile on his lips when he walked over to your group. “Thank god you made it” Gi-Hun breathed out as he grabbed onto Young-Il’s shoulder. You tried to hide your shaking hands as Young-Il rubbed your back shortly, before you all moved back on the platform.

“Seven” The voice sounded, making your way off the platform as Gi-Hun called out to 007 and 149, the mother and son looking around for a group. Now that you were with seven people the search started for an empty room, noticing not even half the doors had opened, and a lot of them were already occupied. “There!” You yelled as you saw an empty chamber at the other side of the room, your group running over. Everyone made it inside until you noticed Young-Il wasn’t close behind you anymore, seeing someone pushed him to the floor who was now running in your direction. You moved to stand in the doorway as you grabbed onto the edges of the frame, holding yourself tight and waiting for the man to close in. You moved your leg back before kicking the man in the stomach with all of your strength, sending him flying on his back with a loud thud.

Young-Il ran over to you and tackled you to the floor with him, managing to break your fall as he landed on top of you with his arms wrapped around your body, the door swinging shut not a second later. The only sound filling the room the next few seconds were both of your heavy breaths, the others stood in shock against the wall at what just happened. “Thank you..” Young-Il softly spoke, making you lift your head from the floor to meet his dark eyes. “You’re welcome” You dryly replied, somehow also in shock at where your sudden strength had come from.

You felt your face go red as Young-Il finally moved to get off of you, helping you up again as the others let out a laugh of relief. “What a move, y/n!” Jung-Bae laughed, making you join their laughter as you wiped a drop of sweat away that had rolled down the side of your head. “Are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Young-Il asked as he grabbed your shoulder, concern clear on his face as he looked down at you. “No, I’m fine. I’m just glad you made it” You replied, making a smile form on his face before he patted your head, the door opening again.

“This should be the final round” Gi-Hun spoke when the platform started spinning again, “What do you reckon? It’s probably two now right?” You asked him, Gi-Hun nodding his head. “I was thinking the same” Gi-Hun replied, before the platform came to a halt. “Two” Sounded from the speakers just like you’d expected, your group running over to the doors. Your foot landed in a puddle of blood however, causing you to lose your footing as you fell to your knees. Young-Il was the first to notice, quickly stopping as he called for the group to continue running, making his way back to you.

“What are you doing?! You’ll never make it, find someone else” You yelled at him when he ran back over to you, but that didn’t matter to him, leaning down to pull you up as he grabbed onto your hand. Both of you were looking around to find an empty room, only to see there wasn’t one, the only door still open had people fighting for it. Young-Il however pulled you in that direction, clutching his hand tightly as you followed him towards it. He pushed someone out of the way roughly as he tugged you inside the room with him, pulling the door close behind him.

You both turned towards a sound in the corner of the room to see someone was already inside, feeling panic start to rise within you as you knew what this meant. Young-Il suddenly moved towards the man however, swiftly moving behind him as he wrapped his arm around the man’s neck, both of them sinking to the ground as Young-Il started to choke him. “What are you-!” You started before you realized what was happening, closing your mouth as you looked down at Young-Il before he snapped the man’s neck, letting his body drop to the floor with a loud thud right before the timer hit zero.

You could hear your own loud breathing as Young-Il stood up, walking over to you as you pressed your back against the wall, Young-Il moving to stand right in front of you. You had to move your head back against the wall to meet his eyes, his hand coming up to your cheek. “I still had to repay you for saving me earlier” He softly spoke, his eyes moving down to your lips for a short moment before moving back up to your eyes. “Thank you” You muttered, in a weird state of shock at what you just saw and how he was now only inches away from you.

He suddenly leaned down to press too short of a kiss on your lips before he parted his lips to say something, but the door opened again, Young-Il nodding his head towards the door as he followed you outside. The rest of your group had made it as well as they came running over to you, a fake smile back on Young-Il’s face as he celebrated with them, but you had seen right through his facade.

Not much later you returned through the stair maze back to the sleeping quarters, Young-Il and you walking at the back of the group as you felt him walk closer to you and lean down next to your ear. “You’re smart enough not to tell anyone about what happened inside that room, hm?” He softly spoke, goosebumps raising on your skin as you felt his breath against the side of your neck. “You saved our lives, that’s all that happened right?” You replied, hearing a soft chuckle leave him. “Good girl” He whispered as he moved back upright again, you looking back to meet his eyes one last time before making your way to your bunk bed.

[gyaruhana]

I am in desperate need for more 001 / the front man fics TwT

Could the plot be : when 456 and others try to take over the controls room (last ep), 001 protects her from the guards ( or told the guards over the radio to not attack the player) thank you!

Hwang In-ho/Front Man - Favorites

Synopsis: In-ho decides you don't deserve to die so he makes sure you survive.

A/N: sorry if this is rushed i am trying to get so many other fics done now too !!

Warnings: none

Perhaps this whole mission was a really stupid idea. The sounds of gunshots rang through your ears as you listened to the yells of everyone else who had made the decision to help. You were starting to regret your own decision of taking a gun and choosing to help just because Young-il was going. You’d probably die here honestly. There just seemed to be a never-ending plethora of those guards running through and shooting at you and you couldn’t help but start to panic. 

Fuck, maybe you should just turn around and pretend like you were never a part of this poor attempt at a takeover. You weren't ready to die. Not today, not tomorrow, not even a decade from now. You just had to hold the fort down a little longer though. Just until Gi-hun and Jung-bae make it to the control room. You could wait that out. It wouldn’t take that long. At least, you kept telling yourself that. That everything was okay when it really wasn’t.

You took a deep breath before raising your gun and shooting at some of the guards from behind the pillar. Unfortunately for you, you quickly ran out of ammo making you pull back with a quiet curse. You shove your hands into your pockets to see if you had any more only to realize you’re out of ammo now. “Shit! I’m out,” you say as you look at the others and put your gun down next to you. 

“I’m almost out too,” Hyun-Ju spoke and the others seemed to have a nervous look on their faces - a clear sign they were quickly running out of ammo too. You leaned your head back as you closed your eyes and tried to breathe. All you could think about now was how you were definitely going to die here. You shouldn’t have tried to play hero. You should’ve stayed out of this so you could leave here in one piece and with a fuck ton of won. You were too lost in your fear to hear what the others were saying now and also too panicked to notice Young-il’s eyes on you.

He’d hate to admit it but seeing you like that made him feel guilty. He was annoyed at himself for lowering his guard so much and catching feelings for you when he really shouldn’t have. It was too complicated to fall for you when you were just a player, totally unaware that he was going to betray you all before Gi-hun even got close to the control room. If life was perfect, he would’ve taken you with him but he knew you’d never forgive him if you knew who he really was. 

It was then when he looked at the fear on your face did he decide you were not going to die here. Not in these twisted games he ran. You didn’t deserve death and, admittedly, he cared about you too much now to let you die. His focus on you was broken when Jung-bae started talking through the radio announcing that they believed they were right beneath the control room but needed more ammo and backup if they were going to make it.

“Did you hear that? They need backup!” he yells out as he looks to the others. “Three of us will go, the others will stay! Join us when you get the magazines!” he continued to yell through the loud echo of the bullets. Two of the men quickly offered to go as backup for Gi-hun and Jung-bae prompting Young-il to also go. Just as he was about to get up and head to the control room, your voice rang out.

“Wait! Are you sure?” you asked as you looked at Young-il with worry. Although Gwi-nam and Jung-bae needed some help and ammo, you didn’t want Young-il to be in danger. You weren’t sure what you would do if he died considering he’d been such a good friend to you. You’d never be able to get over his death - you knew that much. 

In response to your worry for him, he gave you a small smile as he looked at you before nodding his head. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry,” he says reassuringly. Seeing you look at him like that made his heart clench with both adoration and guilt. To know you worried for him almost made him rethink if he should be doing this or not. Of course, he quickly threw that thought away and turned around, heading to the direction Gi-hun and Jung-bae had gone. All you could do was watch him disappear through the door with a heavy heart as you pray this would work and he’d return unharmed.

Through the chaos of the shooting and the yelling, all you could think about was him. Even as everything went completely to shit and you all ran out of ammo after Dae-ho never came back and Hyun-ju left to go find him, you still kept thinking about him and if he was okay. Perhaps the threat of death being oh so real now was making you think about everything you had cherished in life - including the few days you got to spend with Young-il and how those days were arguably the best of your life.

Unbeknownst to you, you weren’t going to die here. Not as long as he was in control of these games. 

“Don’t kill Player 076,” he spoke through a radio to the guards after promptly shooting the guys that came with him and faking his death to Gi-hun. He shouldn’t be letting you live. He shouldn’t care about you at all but he did. He cared about you so much and he wished he could tell you the truth but he couldn’t. He’d just have to watch from afar and pull every string possible so you would live. He let out a sigh at the thought of you before quickly walking off to prepare himself to confront Gi-hun as who he really was - The Front Man.

You watched as your friends had no choice but to surrender until inevitably getting shot and killed. You flinched at the sound of the gunshots as you raised your hands in surrender and backed up. Were you crying? Yes. You were. Any sane person would be crying right about now after watching their friends die and realising they’re next to die. “Please. Please don’t kill me,” you begged as you closed your eyes and prepared for the worst. 

Except the worst never came. 

No. You were suddenly grabbed instead and pushed along as they walked. You weren’t sure what was happening. They had just ruthlessly shot your friends but they were leaving you to live? For what? So you could tell everyone what happened and teach a lesson to everyone not to try something like that again? You didn’t understand why you were spared when you really shouldn’t have been. You were just as guilty as the rest. You should have been shot too.

If only you knew the truth.

[greengoblinswifey]

girl we need more fics about inho pls your writing is soooo good 😮‍💨

You Belong With Me— The Front Man/Hwang In Ho x Fem!Reader

summary— The Front Man grows protective of you and removes you from the game, keeping you safe in his private quarters. A deep emotional connection forms between you and your bond deepens in more ways than one.

warnings— age gap(reader is 20, he’s in his 40s), fingering, oral(m!receiving), praise kink, hair pulling, unprotected sex, creampie.

a/n— thank you, hope you like this <3

In the dead of night, you woke to the rough grip of two guards hauling you from your bunk. You tried to scream, but a hand clamped over your mouth, silencing you. They pulled you down the cold hallways, the walls echoing with the sounds of their pants and your cries. You had no idea what was happening until they stopped before a door you hadn’t seen before. The guards pushed it open, and standing on the other side was Hwang In-ho, the Front Man, the one they had told you they were taking you to. He looked down at you in his mask, unreadable expression, his voice cold and commanding as he spoke.

“You voted out,” he said, his voice steady, “but the majority has decided to stay. You won’t be going back. You’re staying with me now.”

Confusion flooded your senses. You’d voted out to escape the nightmare, but now you were here, in front of him. The air shifted as he noticed your fear, before he spoke again, “You’re safe now. No one will hurt you.”

The guards released their hold on you, but you didn’t move. Fear kept you rooted to the spot. “I don’t understand,” you whispered, the words trembling on your lips. “Why me?”

In-ho’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then his tone shifted, becoming softer but more firm. “Because I won’t let anything happen to you.” He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming. “You’re too precious to be out there with them.”

You stayed quiet, still unsure of what was happening, but something about his words made your heart race—not from fear, but from the strange pull he had on you. He was being protective, almost possessive, and it made no sense. But you were too tired to fight it, too drained from everything you had already been through.

For the following days, you remained with him. In-ho wouldn’t let you return to the game. You slept in his room, far removed from the others, under his watchful eye. Every time you tried to ask why, he would simply tell you, “You’re safe here. No one will harm you.”

He never let you out of his sight for too long. During the days, he would be nearby, always watching, ensuring you were comfortable. His protectiveness only deepened as you became more and more accustomed to your new life under his care. You didn’t argue, after all, there was something oddly comforting about his presence, even if it unsettled you at the same time.

One evening, as you rested on the bed, In-ho approached you. His mask was off, and his sharp features were illuminated by the dim light. He crouched beside you, his dark eyes scanning your face making your breath hitch.

“You’ did well,” he said, his voice low and almost soothing. His fingers reached up, gently brushing a few curls from your face, tucking them behind your ear. The simple gesture was so intimate. He was so close now, his warmth radiating off him as he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. “I’ve kept you here because you belong with me, away from them.”

His fingers lingered on your hair, his touch soft but firm. You didn’t pull away. Somehow, his proximity, the way he seemed so protective of you, had a strange pull. “No one will ever touch you again,” he added, possessively. His eyes never left yours, and there was a coldness in his tone that let you know he meant every word.

A part of you wanted to resist, to ask more questions, to demand to be let go. But the way he spoke to you, the way he cared for you, made it hard to find the strength to push him away. He hadn’t hurt you, not like the others. Instead, he had kept you safe.

“I don’t want you to go back,” he said softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek, “You’re my sweet little angel. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You looked up at him, not sure how to respond. But with him, the world felt a little less dangerous. The game, the chaos, seemed far away, as if they didn’t matter here, in his presence.

“You’re not going back,” he repeated, his voice firm, yet his gaze softened. “Not while I’m here. You belong with me.”

And in that moment, you understood that there was no escaping this, no going back. You were his now, and he wasn’t going to let you go. You stayed by his side, no longer a part of the game, but under his protection, whether you wanted it or not.

He leaned down, his presence overwhelming as his lips brushed against yours. It was soft at first, a gentle, almost hesitant kiss, like he was testing your response. You felt his body against you, his hands slowly moving to your back, pulling you closer. The touch felt unfamiliar yet comforting, and after everything that had happened, you melted into it, craving the sensation of being cared for, of being wanted.

His lips trailed down to your neck, and you gasped, the contact sending a shiver down your spine. He paused for a moment, his breath hot against your skin, before finding that sensitive spot just below your ear. A small hum of satisfaction left his lips as he nipped softly at your skin. His hand, still firmly on your back, slid lower, his fingers brushing against your waist before moving gently, teasingly lower and into your panties.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured. “So wet already, just for me.”

You felt his fingers rub gentle circles on your swollen clit, his touch light but electric, making your breath hitch. He paused, as if waiting for your response, his eyes searching yours for permission. “Just let me make you feel good,” he whispered, his voice tender yet firm. “It’s just us here. You can trust me.”

You felt a thick finger slip inside your pussy, the action making you press your lips together so you wouldn’t make a sound. He chuckled then moved back to your neck, licking and nipping as his fingers explored your pussy.

“Your pussy gets wet for strangers, doesn’t it?” he teased.

You whined and hid your face in his neck but he used his free hand to tilt your head to look up at him.

“I’m only teasing angel, and you’re my kind of woman either way,” he murmured.

His finger began thrusting and curling, finding the spongy spot inside you that had you writhing underneath him. He used a thumb to rub circles on your clit, the pleasure unlike any other you had felt. You grabbed his hand, as he increased the pace, feeling something build inside you. Were you really about to cum for him? He slipped another finger inside, curling and thrusting as the sound of your wet pussy filled your ears.

“Cum for me sweetheart, be my good girl,” he said.

You weren’t sure what you wanted anymore, but there was something in his gaze, something comforting in the way he pleasured you, that made it easy to let go and cum for him. The world outside seemed to disappear, leaving just the two of you in that moment, where you could be pleasure and safe all at once.

“F-feels so good,” you finally whispered, your orgasm taking ahold of you.

“I know baby, I know,” he retorted, “I can make you feel even better.”

In that moment you didn’t know what he meant. What you did know was that you wanted to make him feel good too. Return the favor in the only way you could.

You could feel his gaze burning into you as you gently unbuttoned the top he had given you to put on that day, your heart racing. You paused for a moment, looking up at him, feeling a slight hesitation. His voice was calm. “Are you sure?” he asked, his eyes soft but intense.

You nodded, keeping your eyes locked with his, your breath catching in your throat. “Yes,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the nerves fluttering in your chest.

Slowly, you let your movements flow as you continued to undress, your fingers trembling slightly, but you felt a rush of anticipation. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, his voice almost a growl as he took in every detail of your naked body.

You moved closer to him, your eyes never leaving his as you slowly began to unbutton his shirt. The action felt intimate, yet there was something thrilling about it. His breath hitched slightly as your hands moved lower, and you felt the heat of his body against yours as you slowly began to undress him.

“You're incredible,” he said softly, his voice filled with admiration. As you knelt before him, your gaze remained locked with his, and you felt a surge of confidence. His hand gently cupped your face, his thumb brushing across your cheek. “You're so beautiful,” he repeated, his voice filled with awe.

He took off his boxers, his hard cock springing free in front of your face. He was so big and thick, the biggest you’d ever seen. With shaky hands you took ahold of him, slowly stroking as his eyes fluttered shut. You spat on the tip, using your thumb to spread your saliva along with the pre cum that had oozed out.

“That’s it, you’re a fucking natural,” he praised.

With your eyes on his, you slowly wrapped your plump lips around him, taking him into your mouth. You slid your tongue along his girth, suctioning your lips to give him the utmost pleasure. He hit the back of your throat and you let him settle there for a second before sliding your lips back up to the tip.

“Fuck, that’s it, just like that,” he moaned.

You licked the tip, savoring the taste of the salty pre cum before slowly taking him half way. “All the way down,” he growled. You went lower, taking his cock into the back of your throat as his fingers tangled in your curls. You began bobbing your head, breathing through your nose as your eyes teared up. He stared down at you, his lips apart as his breathing grew heavier. You were a sight for sore eyes, curls framing your face, tears brimming your eyes, pre cum and spit dripping down your chin and your mouth full.

“You look so beautiful like this, such a good cocksucker,” he murmured.

At his praises you began bobbing your head faster, sliding your tongue all over his shaft. Each time you went down, the tip slammed against your tonsil and he let out breathy moans that made your pussy throb.

“Fuck angel, I’m gonna cum in that pretty mouth,” he groaned.

Your hands went to his heavy balls, massaging them then moving down to take each into your mouth before moving back up to his cock and sliding your lips across the shaft.

“Here it comes, take all my cum in your mouth like a good girl sweetheart,” he said.

You suckled on the tip, stroking the base as you felt the unmistakable feeling of his hot cum shooting in your mouth. You stroked him through it then took him down your throat, swallowing his cum.

“Good girl, such a good girl,” he cooed.

He pulled you up, his hands immediately all over your naked body as he kissed you. He flipped you over so that he was on top of you, his dark eyes piercing yours. He leaned down once more, his lips pressed against yours then his tongue slipped inside your mouth. As his tongue sucked on yours, you felt his hard cock press against your pussy.

“Reach down and put my cock inside you,” he panted.

You did as you were told, your bottom lip going between your teeth at the pure intimacy of the moment. You took ahold of his shaft, dragging it up and down your folds as you moaned before pressing it inside your hole. Just the tip of his cock inside made you feel full and you gripped his bicep to ground yourself.

He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear as his cock deepened. “Tell me how good it feels,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. You could feel your orgasm building inside you, and though every inch of your body was alive with pleasure, you focused on him.

“It feels so good,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. He moaned softly, his hands gripping your waist tighter, guiding you with each thrust.

His lips trailed over your skin, kissing your neck, his teeth grazing gently as he picked up the pace. “You’re perfect,”’he murmured between kisses, his hands never leaving your body, his touch firm but gentle. “So responsive. I can't get enough of you.”

He kissed you deeply, his lips taking control, his tongue gently exploring as he moved above you. Each thrust brushed against your g spot and sent a shiver down your spine, you responded instinctively, your hands gripping his back as your body arched toward him. The rhythm of his movements was steady but increasingly intense, and every thrust felt more intimate than the last.

“Cum for me,” he urged, his voice husky. “I need you to cum on my cock.”

Your nails dug into his strong arms and he held you close, your pussy soaking his cock as your release washed over you. He kissed your forehead, guiding you through your high as you let out soft whimpers.

As he hovered above you, he whispered softly, “Get on your hands and knees.” His hands brushed your back as you obeyed, fingers lingering as he praised you for how perfect you were, how much he appreciated every moment with you.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his tone dripping with admiration as he watched his cock disappear inside you. “I’ve never felt a pussy like this.”

His hands moved to your hair, fingers tangling in the coils as he pulled you closer, not in a harsh way, but with a sense of possession, as if he were claiming you. Each time his cock disappeared inside your pussy, you couldn't help but moan softly at how deep he was at this angle, the sensation of his cock sending waves of pleasure through you.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. His hands roamed, squeezing your ass, the praise never stopping, and it only made you ache for more. “I can't get enough of you.”

The combination of his words and the feeling of him so close to you made your body tremble, your moan louder this time, unable to contain the pleasure that built up within you. “You feel incredible,” he murmured again, his touch firm, guiding your ass back to meet his thrusts. He watched as your ass bounced against him, you were so sexy. A masterpiece.

You could hear him breathe deeply as he continued, his admiration never wavering. “You’re everything I’ve wanted,” he whispered.

He rolled his hips to meet your ass then leaned in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. “Cum with me,” he whispered.

You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be enveloped in the moment and you couldn’t hold back anymore. You creamed all over his cock, feeling a wave of warmth and satisfaction wash over you. Right after, you felt his cum fill your pussy.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, his voice full of adoration as he collapsed on the bed and pulled you close. “You’re perfect,” he said, his hands brushing your curls back from your face, caressing you softly. His touch was possessive, yet kind, as if he wanted to protect you from everything.

“You belong with me,” he whispered.

[meazalykov]

everybody moved on, but I stayed there

barcelona femeni x bayern frauen x reader

summary: its hard to adjust when you thought your old life would be your only life

warnings: angst

the call came early in the morning, the kind of call you had always dreaded but never truly believed would come. 

your agent’s voice on the other end of the line was steady, professional, but it carried a weight that crushed you the moment they spoke.  

“barcelona isn’t offering a renewal,” they said, their tone careful, like they knew the devastation these words would bring.  

you sat in your small apartment, the sunlight streaming through the window, mocking you with its warmth. the city outside was alive as always, the sound of bustling streets filling the background, but inside, you felt frozen. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.  

“they’re making some tough financial decisions,” your agent explained, trying to soften the blow. 

“it’s not about your performance. you’ve been phenomenal, but they’re restructuring. you know how it is... fighting for spots in the best team in the world. unfortunately, they’ve decided to let your contract expire.”  

the words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had spent three years at barcelona, pouring your heart and soul into everything. you had thought this was your forever, the club you would retire at, the city you would grow old in.  

“so, that’s it?” you said after a long silence. 

“i’m just... done here?”  

your agent hesitated, then sighed. 

“i know this is hard, but listen. you’re one of the best defenders in the world. clubs are already reaching out, and we have options. lyon, chelsea, orlando, bayern munich—they’re all interested. they’re practically throwing themselves at the chance to sign you.”  

you didn’t respond. you couldn’t. the idea of leaving barcelona, leaving everything you had built here, felt impossible.  

“y/n?” your agent’s voice broke through your haze. 

“i know this is tough, but you need to think about your next step. you have a bright future ahead of you. you can be at a club that actually wants to keep you.”  

you hung up soon after, unable to stomach the conversation any longer. the rest of the day passed in a blur. you avoided your teammates, knowing the questions and the pitying looks they would give you.

the decision wasn’t even yours to make, but the weight of it pressed down on you like it was. every day at training, you felt it in the pit of your stomach, an ache that wouldn’t go away. you tried to mask it—forcing a smile here and there, going through the motions during drills—but it didn’t take long for your teammates to notice.  

you looked down at your training kits and game kits everyday since that phone call, knowing this would be your final weeks wearing the barcelona name. 

“are you okay?” alexia asked one afternoon after practice, her voice gentle. she had always been perceptive, her captain’s instincts sharp. you nodded quickly, brushing her off with a vague excuse about being tired. 

she didn’t press, but her eyes lingered on you, worried.  

by the time the news had fully sunk in, you could hardly meet anyone’s gaze. every touch of the ball, every shared laugh in the locker room, felt like another goodbye you weren’t ready to say.  

you hadn’t been yourself on the pitch, your passes lacking their usual precision, your tackles hesitant. when the session ended, everyone filed into the dressing room, chatting and laughing as always, but you stayed silent, your head down as you untied your boots.  

keira, sitting next to you, noticed your distant expression. she nudged your shoulder lightly. 

“what’s up with you today? you’ve been... off.”  

you froze, the question catching you off guard. for a moment, you thought about brushing it off again, but something about the concern in her voice broke the wall you’d been holding up for weeks. your hands trembled as you placed your boots down, and before you could stop it, tears welled up in your eyes.  

the room fell silent as everyone noticed. keira leaned closer, her voice soft. 

“y/n? what’s wrong?”  

you took a shaky breath, your voice breaking as you finally spoke. “i have to leave,” you said, the words feeling like shards of glass in your throat. 

“barcelona isn’t renewing my contract.”  

gasps echoed around the room, followed by an overwhelming silence. the weight of your confession seemed to crush the air out of the space.  

“what do you mean they’re not renewing your contract?” aitana asked, her voice sharp with disbelief.  

“i thought you’d be here forever,” vicky added, her brow furrowed.  

you shook your head, wiping at your face as the tears kept falling. 

“i thought so too. but... they said it’s financial. they can’t offer me a new deal. it’s not up to me.”  

“no,” mariona said quietly, standing up and crossing the room to sit beside you. her arm wrapped around your shoulders as she pulled you close. 

“this can’t be happening.”  

you leaned into her, the comfort of her presence grounding you as sobs shook your body. mariona held you tightly, her own voice breaking as she whispered, 

“i understand. i know what it’s like. i’m leaving too, remember? i thought this was my forever club, just like you. sometimes, things don’t work out the way we want them to. you’ll be okay, nina.”  

the rest of the team sat in stunned silence, the reality sinking in. salma finally spoke, her voice steady but full of emotion. 

“this isn’t fair. you've tried your hardest for this team. we’ve all seen it.”  

“it’s not fair,” you agreed, your voice barely audible. 

“but it’s happening. and i have to accept it, sal.”  

mapi, sitting across from you, shook her head. 

“accept it? no, we’re not accepting this. you’re one of us. no matter where you go, you’ll always be one of us.”  

their words brought a fresh wave of tears, but this time, they weren’t entirely from sadness. amidst the heartbreak, there was comfort in knowing how much you meant to them.  

mariona squeezed your shoulder, her voice warm despite the sadness in her eyes.

“wherever you go, they’re lucky to have you. it’s okay to be upset right now. we’re upset too, you’ll grow to love your new club just as much as you love us.”  

you nodded, taking a deep breath as you tried to steady yourself. “i’m going to miss all of you so much,” you said, your voice trembling.  

“we’re going to miss you too,” keira said softly, and a murmur of agreement swept through the room.  

the rest of the evening passed in a haze of hugs, tears, and promises to stay in touch. mariona stayed by your side the entire time, her presence a constant source of comfort. as someone who was also leaving, she understood your pain in a way no one else could.  

when you finally left the locker room that night, the reality of your departure felt a little less heavy. your teammates’ love and support reminded you that even though you were leaving barcelona, you would always carry a part of it with you.

alexia tried to talk to you after everyone left, her voice soft.  

“we’ll miss you,” she said, her eyes searching yours for any sign of emotion.  

you forced a smile, nodding as your throat tightened. “i’ll miss you too.” but even as you said the words, it didn’t feel real.  

packing up your life in barcelona was harder than you expected. every corner of your apartment, every street you walked, every café you passed, was filled with memories. leaving felt like abandoning a part of yourself.  

when the offer from bayern munich came, you accepted it with a numb sense of duty. it wasn’t excitement that drove your decision, but necessity. you couldn’t stay in barcelona, and bayern seemed like the best option.  

the first few weeks in munich were strange. the city was beautiful, the people were welcoming, but it didn’t feel like home. 

your new teammates were kind, going out of their way to include you in team dinners and outings. georgia took you out for coffee, and sydney invited you over for dinner. they made an effort, but no matter how hard they tried, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being an outsider.  

“how are you settling in?” klara asked one evening after training. the two of you were stretching on the pitch as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the stadium.  

you shrugged, avoiding her gaze. 

“it’s... fine.”  

klara gave you a sympathetic look. 

“it’ll feel like home eventually. i know how you feel.. just give it time.”  

you nodded, but deep down, you weren’t so sure.  

despite your inner turmoil, your performance on the pitch was stellar. you threw yourself into training, determined to prove that you belonged. the bayern fans quickly grew to love you, chanting your name in the stands during every match.

even as you celebrated victories with your new team, a part of you longed for the camaraderie you had at barcelona.  

when you heard about barcelona’s successes, you felt a pang of jealousy. not because you wanted them to fail, but because you wished you were still a part of it.  

“do you ever talk to them?” georgia asked one day as the two of you sat in the locker room after a match.  

“sometimes,” you admitted, scrolling through your phone. your former teammates still messaged you, names like esmee, alexia, and keira lighting up your screen with texts like, “we miss you,” and “come visit soon.” but it wasn’t the same.  

months passed, and slowly, you began to find your footing in munich. 

when bayern beat real madrid in the champions league quarterfinals, you felt a surge of happiness you hadn’t felt in a long time. the way the team celebrated in the locker room reminded you of the joy you used to feel at barcelona after an el clasico game against the same time you played tonight. 

for the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe you could be happy here.  

then, the semifinal draw happened. bayern munich vs. barcelona. 

your stomach twisted when you saw it. the thought of facing your old team felt like a cruel twist of fate.  

“are you ready for this?” sydney asked as the team prepared for the first leg in munich.  

“i don’t know,” you admitted.  

the match was intense. you found yourself marking aitana, the two of you locked in a fierce battle throughout the game. every time she tried to break through, you were there, blocking her path. 

by the end of the match, it was 1-1, with goals from alexia and pernille.  

“good game,” alexia said afterward as the two of you crossed paths in the tunnel. there was a flicker of something in her eyes—pride, maybe? or nostalgia? you couldn’t tell.  

“thanks,” you replied, your voice tight.  

the second leg in barcelona felt different. walking into the stadium, you expected to feel a sense of loss, but instead, you felt... content. 

this was your old home, but it didn’t define you anymore.  

however, your heart thumped in your chest, not from nerves—at least, that’s what you told yourself—but from the weight of what this game meant. the second leg of the champions league semifinal. bayern munich vs. barcelona. your old club vs. your new club.  

giulia adjusted her captain’s armband slightly beside you as your hands steady on your mascot’s shoulders.. despite the whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. the kid mascot looked up at you with her wide eyes, clutching your hand tightly. 

you smiled down at the young girl, offering a small squeeze of reassurance, even though you could have used some yourself.  

the players began walking out, the bright lights of the stadium flooding your vision as the roar of the crowd hit you like a tidal wave. it was deafening. thousands of voices chanting, cheering, and shouting in a language that used to feel like your own.  

you stepped onto the pitch, the familiar sight of camp nou stretching out before you. the stands were a sea of red and blue. 

for a moment, you felt a flicker of encouragement, a warmth in your chest. this was barcelona—this was home.  

wait a minute??? it's not. you cringed as reality hit, sharp and unforgiving. the cheers weren’t for you. not anymore. they were for the players in blaugrana, for the badge you no longer wore. 

you were bayern now. the crowd that once lifted you, chanted your name, celebrated your every move—they were now cheering against you.  

the realization stung more than you wanted to admit. your steps faltered slightly as you made your way to the center of the pitch, your head held high despite the ache in your heart.  

yet, amidst the overwhelming roar of the home fans, another sound reached your ears. it was faint at first, but it grew louder the more you focused on it. the bayern munich away fans, tucked into a corner of the massive stadium, were cheering for your team. 

their voices didn’t carry the same weight in numbers, but there was something in their tone—raw, passionate, unwavering—that hit you differently.  

they went through the lineup and gave the girls name chants. after pernille, they started chanting your name. your name.  

the sound of their voices cut through the noise of the home crowd, filling you with a strange sense of belonging. they weren’t just cheering for bayern; they were cheering for you.  

you straightened your posture, a quiet resolve settling over you. 

the kid beside you tugged at your hand, pulling your attention back. you smiled down at them again, this time with a bit more confidence.  

the anthem began playing, and you sang along quietly, your voice steady as the camera panned across the line of players. the stadium was exciting, the tension building as kickoff loomed.  

as the anthem ended and the players began to move into position, you took one last glance at the crowd. the cheers for barcelona still rang loud and proud, but the bayern fans’ voices echoed in your ears, grounding you in the moment.  

you were here for them now. and for yourself.  

the whistle blew, and the game began.

this game was one of the best of your career. you cleared shots from ewa, stopped aitana in her tracks, and made a crucial save against kika nazareth-- a forward you never got to play with. 

when you took a corner kick in the 89th minute, you didn’t expect anything to come of it. but the ball curved perfectly, slipping past cata and into the net.  

the stadium fell silent for a moment before erupting into german chaos. your jaw dropped as you covered your mouth in disbelief. your teammates swarmed you, their joy infectious.  

however, you didn’t celebrate. you couldn’t. out of respect for the club that gave you everything, you simply walked back to your position, your head held high.  

after the final whistle blew, bayern advanced to the final with a 3-1 aggregate score. as you walked off the pitch, you avoided looking at your former teammates. you were afraid of what you might see in their eyes—anger, disappointment, betrayal.  

later that night, as you lay in bed, your phone buzzed with a message from alexia. 

“we are proud of you. good luck in the final :)”  

it took you a moment to process her words. maybe they didn’t hate you after all.  

as bayern prepared for the champions league final against manchester city, you felt lighter. the weight of barcelona no longer pressed down on you like it used to. 

you would always cherish your time there, but you were starting to realize that your future was here, with bayern.  

and for the first time, you were okay with that.  

masterlist

[avelera]

(Arcane Meta) The Staggering Timeline of the Hexgate Construction

The Hexgate timeline is insane, guys, it's actually insane.

So I'm writing a Jayvik fic set in the time skip between 1.03 and 1.04. Most people agree that time skip was about 6-7 years long.

During 1.04 "Progress Day" Jayce says "a few years ago", the Hexgates opened to the world. The year before, we learn from the Enforcer Caitlyn is talking to that Jayce launched a blimp "half way across the continent" which sounds like a demonstration of increased range for the Hexgates.

At some point, I would guess early in Jayce and Viktor's partnership, they also did the Distinguished Innovators competition where they needed to notch their own gears and, presumably, didn't have a lot of assistants or assistance. I only note this to point out that there was at least a year or so at the beginning where they weren't immediately thrust into limelight yet and they didn't have every resource available.

So just because Mel was buying into their vision on Day 1, doesn't mean the whole city had yet. They probably needed to prove an application for Hextech first before that happened and, likely, the Hexgates was what they came up with and that's the one all of Piltover bought in on.

So, mostly likely sometime in the first year or so, Jayce and Viktor had to provide a proof of concept for the Hexgates. Let's say for the sake of argument that by the first Progress Day of their partnership, they have one.

Progress Day / Year of Jayce and Viktor's partnership

(Let's go through the timeline)

Year 1 - Hexgate proof of concept developed and presented. Up to that point, Hextech exists and has Mel's support, but Jayce and Viktor still haven't proven themselves enough to get all the resources they'll need to build something like the Hexgates. The Distinguished Innovators competition takes place somewhere around this time. Maybe they presented the Hexgate proof of concept there (pure speculation on my part but you'll see why I think the first few years had to be laser focused on the Hexgates over anything else for any of this to make sense.)

Year 2 - Hexgates under development.

Year 3 - Hexgates under development.

Year 4 - Hexgates open to the world.

Year 5 - Hexgate distance capacity increased.

Year 6 - Events of Arcane

By the way, I say only one year to develop a prototype, it could have taken longer. But, the Progress Day post-time skip in 1.04 could be 7 years later. So all the approximations up there should be taken as "give or take a year".

Still, that means that within 3-4 years at most, Jayce and Viktor went from this proof of concept that Hextech is viable at all:

To this:

And can I say just as an archaeology nerd obsessed with stone crafting and material cultures, holy shit, do you have any idea how quickly they must have built the Hexgate tower to have it done in 2-3 years? The Empire State Building, which offers us a decent parallel for the technology available in the world of Arcane at this point, took a 1 year, 45 days, it was considered the fastest a skyscraper had ever been constructed at the time.

But the Hexgate tower is more than just a building, this thing goes all the way down into the bedrock, it is lined with Hex crystals. It has that giant globe on the top for pinpointing where to send the ship. It's not just a building, the entire thing is an engineering marvel. And it has to have been done in under 3 years to fit the most generous version of the timeline.

This would, realistically, require incredible buy-in by the entirety of Piltover society. We're talking multiple guilds vying for contracts, red tape being cut by the mile to secure the space, deep excavation beneath it, shipping to bring in materials, endless amounts of masons, metalworkers, and artisans. It's doubtful that Jayce and Viktor slept during those years. The sophistication we see within the Hexgates makes it even more mind-boggling.

Seriously, look at the base of this thing! This is the failsafe, it had to exist before they opened up the Hexgates to the world! It can't be an afterthought or a later addition!

And this Hex crystal-lined channel goes up for miles! (not literally but get my point) It needs sophisticated technicians to operate and switch out the cores!

Now, of course a Doylist explanation, the Hexgates are as sophisticated as they need to be and were built as quickly as they needed to be built in order to serve the plot, and Piltover is as technologically sophisticated as is needed for these to be built in the time required.

But, Watsonian, as someone who can't help but look at building materials and think about just how much time and effort it would take a society that looks vaguely 1880s-1920s (I would say the 1.04 Progress Day is deliberately invoking the Chicago World's Fair of 1893) it is utterly mind-boggling to me how much labor and materials and effort would have to go into building the Hexgates in a 2-3 year period. That's moon launch levels of an entire society mobilizing for one goal.

No wonder Jayce got framed as the Man of Progress, the entire city must have been working on or known someone who was working on making the Hexgates a reality in that time.

[shurisneakers]

saw your requests were open and i figured i would humbly aid 🫡

everyone is always like “oh! bucky with a golden retriever reader this! bucky with a sunshine reader that!” what about bucky with a reader who’s just as moody as he is??

no one ever writes two grumps together and i think it would be an interesting dynamic

Summary: It's New Years Eve and this man simply refuses to do anything but be a pain in your ass.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol

A/N: Sid. did you know. did you know that you're literally a genius. you're so right about grumpy x grumpy. i do not know if I have done this justice but I wrote this out on my phone because I like this request so much thank you for sending one in 😭❤️

New Year’s Eve is a migraine wrapped in tinsel and cheap champagne. You’ve seen too many years roll over into nothing to care anymore.

Doesn’t matter. You’re here because the bar’s open, and when someone says “open bar,” you take it as a challenge to see how open it can really be.

“What’ll it be?” the bartender asks.

“Whatever’s most expensive.”

He ducks under the counter, comes back with a bottle that looks more like a museum piece than alcohol. Fancy glasswork, gold lettering, the works.

He starts, “This one’s got notes of—”

“Let me see,” you interrupt.

The second the bottle’s in your hands, you turn and walk away.

He sputters behind you, but you wave him off. “Put it on the billionaire’s tab."

You snake through the crowd and confetti, nodding at a few familiar faces but not stopping for any. Emergency exit in sight, you take a seat where you can watch the chaos unfold while staying out of it.

"Pass the bottle."

You don't even bother looking at him as you respond, "Go steal your own."

"You took the most expensive one."

"Get another one."

"This is easier."

"Go fuck yourself."

"Real festive of you."

Still, despite your best efforts, he’s already taking a seat, uninvited.

You take another swig before passing the bottle to him without another word.

He glances at you. "Why are you here?"

"Well, it was quiet before someone showed up."

"Must'a really pissed you off," he says, tipping the bottle back.

God, Bucky was fucking annoying. But his cheeks are flushed pink and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow.

"Why are you here?" you scowl.

"It's quiet," he replies, like just knows it'll make you mad. He's right.

"You’re in my space.”

“This isn’t your space.”

“I was here first.”

“Congrats. Want a medal?”

"Leave."

"No," he states, resolutely.

Bucky’s the human equivalent of a rock in your shoe—persistent, irritating, and impossible to ignore.

You feel face warm with irritation. "Where's your date gone?"

"Nat set me up, I've never met her before," he says, as though it’s the least surprising thing in the world. "Haven't seen her in thirty minutes."

"What, you couldn't brood your way into her pants?"

He gives you a dry, unimpressed look. "I don't kiss and tell."

"Doesn't look like you're doing any kissing at all," you scoff.

He tips the bottle back, takes a slow drink, then hands it to you. "You think about me kissing a lot?"

"I don't think about you."

He snorts, low and humorless, and you hate that it makes you want to laugh.

Bucky's fucking annoying. He's run his hand too many times through his hair, and there’s a smudge of something—lipstick, maybe—on his collar, and he's stretched out too damn much, like he's right at home.

He sends you a look. It makes you want to hide. You hate the way his eyes linger, like he’s waiting for you to flinch.

"Bottle," you demand.

He hands it over silently, crossing his arms over his chest, staring right ahead.

"How much longer?" he asks, checking his watch.

"You can leave."

"Sure can," he says, but doesn’t move.

"So leave."

"No."

You stare at him. "Find somewhere else to sit."

"No," he replies.

The minutes stretch. The bottle passes back and forth, your irritation simmering every time he exhales, every time he looks at you like he’s got something to say but doesn’t.

Bucky was fucking annoying. He smelt like expensive cologne and Tide detergent. His eyes are tired and his voice is scratchy. when he shifts beside you, it’s like he takes up more space than anyone has a right

He holds his hand out for the bottle. You give it to him.

"What are you gonna do at midnight?" he asks.

"Finish this bottle."

"What about after?"

"I'll get another one."

Bucky rolls his eyes. “That all?”

“Why do you care?”

“I don’t.” You glare at him, but he doesn’t flinch. He never does.

“Good."

His jaw’s tense, his eyes dark and sharp, and for a second, you think maybe he’s as pissed at himself as you are.

Silence falls. It’s not comfortable, but it’s not uncomfortable either. It’s just there. Like him.

"What’re you gonna do at midnight? Cry into whiskey?” you ask pointedly.

“I could, but you drank it all." He rolls his eyes.

There's a lot left. You give him the bottle. He takes it without a word, fingers brushing against yours.

Bucky takes a swig. “No one waiting for you at midnight?"

"Loads," you scoff. "Got a line out the damn door waiting to kiss me."

"Uh huh," be says.

There's silence.

You look at him, only for find him eyeing you.

“No one waiting for you?”

You scoff. “Why, you volunteering?”

He doesn’t answer right away, just studies you with those sharp, unreadable eyes. “Maybe.”

"Sure, Barnes, I'll kiss you at midnight," you drag sarcastically.

His face doesn't shift. Your brows furrow.

"Christ, you're bein' serious," you mumble.

He shrugs non committedly. "I could think of worse things to do."

"Wow," you say dryly. "Charming."

"Just sayin'."

With two minutes to go, you find that it's harder to look him in the eye. Your heart stumbles over itself, and you take another drink to cover the sudden heat crawling up your neck.

Either the whiskey was really starting to take hold, or the damn spirit of the damn season was getting to you.

"Look, I wasn't plannin' on asking anyone else," he says.

You raise an eyebrow.

"Do with that what you will," he says, taking a swig.

"What about your date?" you test.

"Don't think she remembers I exist."

You observe him. His shirt is unbuttoned, and his coat jacket lay on his lap. His bowtie also hung precariously from his neck.

Bucky was really fucking annoying. His hair is toussled and his stubble is rough and you're fairly certain his nose is sunburnt. You know this because you've been staring at him every day from the second he stepped foot in the compound, withdrawn and scowling.

It's late and you're tired of a lot of things and you're careless, so you stare too long. He catches you.

"What?" he bites.

"I'm assessing," you say, then add grudgingly, “You're not... terrible."

Which is a lie. He's beautiful. He's acutely aware of this on some days. Those days are harder for you.

He stares at you. "I can see why there's a line out the door for you."

"Go join them," you say. "I'll finally get some fuckin' quiet."

He exhales a short laugh. "No."

You can hear the crowd shouting numbers, but it’s distant, unimportant. Bucky’s eyes are on you, steady.

The crowd cheers.

Bucky's really fucking annoying.

But he kisses you like he's liked you all his life. Like he's real tired of waiting. It lingers just long enough to make your stomach flip when you realise he still tastes like whiskey.

When he pulls back, he doesn’t look smug. He doesn’t say anything at all. Just hands you the bottle and leans back like nothing happened.

His cheeks are red. His lips are swollen. He's never looked prettier in his damn life.

“Happy New Year,” you mutter, staring at the bottle because you can’t look at him.

“Sure,” he says, voice low, almost hoarse.

[keferon]

"One missing, presumed dead." 

Blurr doesn't presume.  Blurr knows.

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

"Stay a minute," Blurr says, settling back against his pillows.

"You know I need to get back.” Even as he says it though, Swindle is stopping, half-turning away from the door to Blurr's hospital room.

"This is important.  The attack.  You said there were no casualties." Blurr is careful to keep his voice level, without accusation as he speaks. "What aren't you telling me?"  He watches Swindle for any tell that might give away what Blurr already knows to be true.

"I told you everything you needed to know.  There were no confirmed casualties.  Get some rest."  Swindle tries to make for the door again.

But it's not lost on Blurr how carefully Swindle's response had been shaped.  How Swindle is trying to cut off this line of conversation with the assertion Blurr needs rest.  The way Swindle addressed his question without really addressing it.  Deflecting.  Refusing to outright confirm or deny there was more information.  Repeating what Blurr already said.  But with one minor addition. 

No confirmed casualties.

A statement Blurr has already heard once today.  With a significant addition.

"Swindle," Blurr says.  "They had the news briefing of the official incident report on out in the hall.  No confirmed casualties--" Blurr lets the words hang in the air for a moment. 

"—except one missing, presumed dead."  Blurr doesn't presume.  Blurr knows.  Blurr remembers seeing the ghost, vaguely.  But still, he needs Swindle to confirm it.  Needs to know for certain.  "Who was it?"

Swindle mutters something under his breath that Blurr thinks might be a curse and returns to sit on the couch across from his bed.  "One of the mechanics?  Engineers?  Something like that.  Swerve."

"The one who went into the building with me."  Blurr isn't sure whether he's asking or telling Swindle.

Swindle just nods.  That tiny motion is enough to send Blurr slumping back against his pillows, turning away from Swindle to face the wall.  No longer caring how that might look.

No longer caring about any of it, really.  Because what the press says – whatever Swindle says – is wrong.  What Blurr had done that day wasn't enough.  Someone had died.  Had died because of him.

"���Blurr?" Swindle's voice calling his name sounds distantly to Blurr. 

When Blurr looks up, Swindle is hovering next to his bedside.  Swindle shifts awkwardly looking like he wants to say something.  Looking like he has no idea what to say.

"You were right," Blurr whispers, filling in the silence for Swindle. "I should get some rest."  Another time he might have felt guilty, turning Swindle's own words against him.  Now, he is just grateful when Swindle doesn't argue -- doesn't try to find words, instead making for the door, turning the light out when he leaves.

Blurr closes his eyes.  But he does not rest.  His waking dreams are haunted by ghosts.

It turns out that the full details of what occurred that day are far from the only thing Swindle hasn't been telling Blurr about mecha.  A part of Blurr isn't surprised at the confirmation that Swindle's secrets hide secrets.  A part of Blurr also wonders if he'll ever know the full truth of what he's gotten into.  Wonders if he really wants to know.

Those thoughts in mind, when Blurr re-enters mecha for the first time, he is glad to be largely ignored outside a formal, staged welcome.  Blurr smiles his way through the photographs and handshakes.  And is thankful Swindle has had the foresight to keep this short.

They walk out of the lobby arm in arm – as much for Blurr's support as for the image it presents to observers.  And despite the secrets, Blurr is glad it is Swindle standing there beside him.  Because he's not sure he could make it through this on his own.  But it has to be done. 

The gazes from the pilots they pass in the halls of mecha on the way to Swindle's office are a lot less enthusiastic than those of the crowd in the lobby.  Blurr doesn't mind.  He's not sure he could have handled being lauded as some kind of hero inside mecha.  He cannot begrudge them the resentful glances that occasionally flash his way or the whispered words behind his back. 

Not when he knows that every pilot in this building would have done what he did at mecha headquarters that day, given the chance. 

Not when he knows that they are expected to take the same risk that he took every day and they get no recognition for it. 

Not when he knows they do not receive the same level of individualized care and treatment he has when the costs of those risks come due. 

Not when he knows it costs lives. (Because how many of the faces he passes have lost friends, family, partners to crashes like Blurr's?  How many would still have been lost if they had been Blurr?)

Not when Blurr knows that what he did cost a life – a life he had promised to protect. 

Not when he's failed.

Oh god….oh yes. Oh No. Fuck jfjfjfj. YES they all are expected to be heroes daily without any praise. He saves people and gets to brag about it in front of the whole country. They save people - and they just “doing their job”. This is exactly why all pilots hate Blurr even if they barely met him. All they see and know is this already rich and famous guy being praised and paid and cheered for the same fucking thing they do every day without any recognition. I’m okay I’m okay I’m oka

[uchispeach]

Killer

Dark! Bully! Rafe Cameron x Fem! Reader

Warnings: NON CON, SMUT, rough sex, manhandling & degradation, choking, breeding kink, bullying, violent & abusive behavior, Mean! Rafe, Bully! Rafe…

A/N: Sorry for disappearing, I’ve just had a shit ton of family problems. I hope I can update a bit faster from now on! ALSO lmk if you want this to become a series! 💕

A laugh, dripping with mockery, echoed through the vast room, sparking a ripple of chuckles and whispered insults from the nearby group of boys.

Rafe Cameron’s body stretched lazily in the chair, making it seem almost comically small under his heavy frame. Even with his limbs sprawled out in complete relaxation, the outline of his hard muscles pressed against his shirt, as if daring to break free at any moment. You couldn't deny he looked attractive, exuding an undeniable magnetism in that confident, almost predatory pose, his new buzz cut only amplifying the arrogance that oozed from him. But that ugly, smug smirk? It made your bones ache and your throat dry up in ways you couldn’t explain.

His eyes, the color of storm clouds, lingered on yours with a deliberate intensity, delighting in your discomfort, relishing in every flinch and subtle shift of your gaze. You turned away, hoping your disinterest would bore him eventually, but you knew it wouldn’t.

No matter how hard you focused on the lecture, his presence was like an intrusive, constant drill on your brain—his burning gaze a distraction that gnawed at your senses. How naive had you been to think he'd ever leave you alone? Every time you raised your hand in class, you could count on him to whisper some stupid joke under his breath. How foolish had you been to think he would ever stop tormenting you? This sick dynamic between you two had been a game since childhood, and if anything, he seemed to thrive on it.

His once-small fingers had grown long and strong -now covered in silver rings. Those same digits that used to tangle on your hair and pull from it until your scalp burned in pain. His legs were now far longer, but they had always been longer than yours, outpacing you as they chased you through the school halls in all infant and adolescent years, always with the aim of making you stumble and fall to your knees. But his mouth had never changed. It had only sharpened, evolving into something far more dangerous.

You’d convinced yourself you were above all of it. Charleston had felt like a fresh start, and you’d thought the Pogue curse might finally be something you could outrun. But when Rafe Cameron showed up once more, everything you’d built: your confidence, your peace of mind—began to crumble, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but the raw, unresolved tension between you.

You were studying to be a teacher, the first in your family to receive a scholarship that promised a brighter future. Your days were filled with lesson plans, textbooks, and the weight of academic expectation. Every second of your time was accounted for as you worked tirelessly to carve out a new path for yourself, one that didn't involve being brought back to the past or the memories of him. You didn’t have time for distractions, certainly not for him. But here he was, always lurking just at the edges of your life, a dark cloud you couldn’t escape.

Rafe was studying for an MBA, the complete opposite of you, and yet fate had forced you into a shared class. You would’ve done anything to avoid him, but trapped in between those fours walls, mere meters away from him - it just seemed impossible.

And there he was, at your left, staring with a look of sick pleasure every time he found you trying to focus. His presence was suffocating, like the air itself became dense with his attention. His words, the snide remarks whispered under his breath, were like a weight on your chest, making every breath harder to take.

He harassed you constantly in that class—every. single. time. Without fail. No matter how much you tried to bury yourself in your notes, no matter how hard you tried to ignore his mocking chuckles, his eyes always found you, always zeroed in on your every move. He’d challenge you with pointless questions, make stupid comments about your work, his voice dripping with condescension. But it didn’t stop there. His reach extended beyond the classroom, following you into the hallways, his tall frame casting a shadow that would make your stomach turn. He would appear out of nowhere, as though drawn to you by some sick fixation, and make his presence known with a smirk or a taunt, forcing you to look up from your books, to meet those stormy eyes full of wickedness.

He would ‘accidentally’ bump into you, making your school supplies fall over. He licked his lower lip when you bent over to pick the mess up. His front would get dangerously close to your back in any queue, sometimes getting bold enough to grind slightly against you. He would move you around like a rag doll, always putting his huge palm on your ass to push you to the side. Still, there was nothing as uncomfortable as having his dirty eyes scanning you from head to toe at any given time - he licked his lower lip in amusement, making your cheeks grow hotter.

You’d always hoped, prayed, that once the class ended, he’d disappear—vanish into his own world and leave you to yours. But you were wrong. Every time the teacher dismissed you, and you gathered your things to leave, he’d be right there, waiting. It was like clockwork. His long, strong fingers would slide into the pockets of navy trousers, the scent of his manly cologne wafting over you in an intoxicating way. His gaze would follow you as you tried to make a clumsy exit, his footsteps closing the distance between you with every passing second. You hated that you could never outrun him. Hated how he always found a way to corner you.

And just as you thought you might make it out of the door, safe, free—he’d appear at the threshold, standing in your way with that damn smirk of his, a look that seemed to promise nothing but trouble.

“Leaving so soon?” His voice would slither through the air like poison.

Your heart would pound in your chest, but you’d force your eyes to look anywhere but at him, hoping and praying, that maybe, just maybe, today would be the day he’d leave you alone. But you knew better. You always knew better.

And now, you could feel it again; the familiar pressure of his presence, creeping closer, dark and inevitable.

“What’s that I’ve heard?” He scratched his head while pressing his brows together, pretending to be deep in thought. “…Oh, right” Now, enlightened; he stepped forward. Your almost wobbly legs did their best on distancing themselves -though, they weren’t allowed much movement after hitting a desk.

The back of your knees stung against the protruding piece of wood. “You tryna leave…study abroad, right?” Your eyes peeled in horror, and you hid in yourself as much as you could when his tall frame overpowered yours. “No, no. Look me right in the eye.” He clicked his tongue in disapproval. Without any hesitation, his cold rings found their place under your chin, burying in your skin when lifting up your face. “How-how do you know?” Your stuttering made him smile -predatory grin adorning his harsh features. “Everyone thinks you’re smart…” The pain on your neck amplified at the uncomfortable position.

“…But I think you’re just a dumb bitch.” He spat at you. Tone as rough as the domineering grip on your jaw. “…Bragging left and right - you really thought I wouldn’t find out?” He shook you with erratic movement. The pain you felt under his digits distracted you from a perverted knee slowly opening its way between your legs.

His unruly eyes took a break from tormenting yours as he admired your skirt’s fabric draping over your thighs. The blond snob flashed you his hungry canines while biting into his lower lip.

The horror only amplified when a sharp thrust attacked your clothed sex. His impatient knee continued to roughly rub against the cotton underwear, cruelty reflected on the fast pace. “Ha. Would you look at that? The dirty slut is getting wet!” You whined in disgust when Rafe pressed harder on the soaked circle.

The scarce dignity you thought you held was harshly stripped from you. On his arms you were nothing but a squeaky toy he got to bite and squeeze whenever he desired, and little by little you felt victim to a raw resignation.

The next thing you sensed was his palm abandoning your neck and moving onto your meaty thighs. He gave the flesh a squeeze, followed by a lusty groan leaving his pinkish lips.

Your mind tried to wander away, but the situation was just too much; too much stimulation everywhere, too much heat coming from his larger body, too much degradation directed your way in mean words and touches, too much torturous pressure applied to your virgin cunt and too much pawing at your unexplored parts.

The next thing your brain registered was a rip. The sound of something being torn apart, and if you didn’t see the light fabric pooling around your feet, you could’ve almost swear it was the noise your spirit made when breaking in half. “And I was thinking about making it nice for you…fucking you on a bed of roses or some corny shit.” He talked with nothing but mockery, while leaning onto your chest. “But I guess you prefer it when I treat you like a cheap whore.” The Cameron boy finished it off with a chuckle, his muscles flexing hard under the rumbling laugh.

You wanted to contradict him, defend your honor and pull him off of you, but all protests got stuck in your throat when he took you by it and slammed your upper body against the desk. The rigid wood wasn’t welcoming. Your head spinned uncontrollably at the beast-like hit.

The lack of oxygen didn’t stop you from hearing him unbuckling his pants. Panic grew louder as you heard his clothes falling to the Classroom’s floor. Worries clouded you in a tumultuous storm, and you did your best to cover yourself up when the only layer covering your vulnerable hole was pushed to the side. “Open your fucking legs or I’ll break your useless skull!” He demanded in a crazied tone, ripping your limbs apart and throwing them over his shoulders.

“Please, don’t.” Your eyelids squeezed together, shielding your irises from looking at the violating scene. “That’s right, beg me” Warm breath imposed itself above your slit, followed by a warmer liquid dripping down your folds. “Gotta make it wetter…I don’t want you breaking at the first use.” Even though your sight was all black, you could imagine his satisfied grin decorating that diabolically handsome face.

You tried pulling away when a foreign limb rubbed against your sex, desperate to be let in. “Rafe, no-” You were cut short by your own screams, eyes peeled open at the feeling of his cock entering all at once.

“Fuck! Tight ass pussy.” He sounded in heaven, palms manhandling your knees to your chest while pounding ruthlessly into you.

The rest of your body went numb, being rocked up and down at the bestiality of the boy’s attack. His groans and moans overpowered your miserable sobs. Your withering form contrasted his blessed expressions, pure passion exuding from his now sweaty body.

“Your whorish cunt is squeezing the shit out of me…she doesn’t want me to leave!” He continued to talk while creating some deeply loud wet noises.

Your neck and waist’s skin burned under his cutting rings and the unsolicited friction of his grip that kept you still. Your ears got lost at the multiple pet names he called you, as well as the dirty sentences of encouragement he occasionally threw your way.

After almost an hour of feeling him impale you on his dick, you grew tired of screaming and crying, now reduced to quiet whimpers and even quieter pleas. “Stop-” He did the opposite to that, toned pelvis slapping hard against you as his tip bruised your cervix in persistent thrusts.

The cries that left your esophagus were now primal and raw, long nails holding onto his huge back. “That’s right, cry for me. You fucking deserve it!” That only made the tears fall faster down your cheeks, reaching your mouth on a salty taste.

And when his movements finally went sloppy and his member felt softer, your suffering only sharpened. “Tell me you love me” He barked at your face, drops of unintentional spit hitting your distressed face.

You thought you heard wrong, that between his chocking, and suffocating weight your brain had imagined the unimaginable. “Tell me you love me!” His features tensed, making a vein pop on his front.

Was Rafe Cameron asking for words of affirmation from you? Was the same guy who just butchered your purity asking you for your heart? Or was it just another inhumane prank? Another limit of yours he wanted to cross?

Clearly you took to much time thinking and not acting because the next thing you felt was the blond burying impossibly deeper into your core and making you know a new level of uncomfortability. “Tell me you fucking love or I’ll come inside you.” The light on the room was vast, you were sure of it. Such an elite university could only have the best illumination for its elitist students; still, his burly body completely covered yours.

His sharp jaw and eyes were enhanced by the darkness found in his stare. “I-” He trembled lightly in excitement at your shaky voice. “I love you.” You finally decreed, unknowingly sealing your fate.

His smile was like nothing you saw before, too devilish and twisted you actually doubted smiling was ever a nice gesture. And when you felt a dense liquid flooding your womb in overwhelming warmth, you swore you could see the devil in his eyes.

.

.

.

[karaeilishh]

𝜗𝜚 don’t smile b. eilish . . .

a/n — oh i love desperate billie 🙁

smut

you swallow hard before taking a deep breath and opening the door, taking a few steps forward. the faint scent of expensive alcohol fills your lungs before you can even spot a single familiar face in the crowd of strangers laughing and having fun under the dimly lit fluorescent lights. 

you smooth the fabric of your cream-colored dress a few times, checking that none of the bows have come undone while you were on your way here. 

a few curious glances turn to you before you hear whispers. a sickening feeling makes your stomach drop, putting an uncomfortable pressure on your entire body. it takes some effort to move forward through the crowd. although, it would be better if you stayed there. 

your heart clenches painfully when your gaze falls on one of the couches against the wall, where an achingly familiar figure is sitting. long black hair, baggy jeans decorated with incomprehensible patterns. a cap, as always, with the peak backwards. she even dared to wear the shirt you gave her. and now that shirt was being clung to by another girl, sitting in her arms.

you probably would have even been able to walk past her calmly, if a lump of nausea hadn’t risen in your throat when a pair of sky-blue eyes pierced your heart with sharp daggers. your fingertips began to shake.

billie’s face contorted in weak surprise as guilt filled her heart. she shifted slightly, no longer keeping her hands on the blonde and nervously tugging at the hem of her short. as if it would change what you saw a few seconds ago.

“hey, beautiful.” an unfamiliar female voice pulled you out of your painful thoughts, making you turn your head towards a tall, slender brunette holding a glass of expensive champagne in her hand. her fingers fluttered over the bare skin of your shoulder before she leaned in too close.

you couldn't see billie's eyes, but you could definitely feel the capillaries in her eyes about to burst from anger.

"can i buy you a drink?" her voice was soft, drenched in fake tenderness that immediately pushed you away. unlike billie, you weren't going to make her jealous or anything like that.

you gently placed your hands on the stranger's chest, gently pushing her away from you. your eyes followed her face before you apologized and told her that you weren't interested in meeting new people. thankfully, she wasn't pushy.

your head turned towards the large christmas tree decorating the spacious room, so you didn't see how quickly and desperately billie jumped up from the couch, almost running towards you to grab your hand and lead you into the nearest empty room. she gently pushed you against the wall before checking that all the other doors were closed.

"billie.." you take an awkward step forward, trying to calm your wildly beating heart, threatening to fly out of your chest. she looks at you with desperate eyes, taking a few more steps until you are centimeters from your body. lips almost touch, breathtaking.

"please, don't say anything" her nose flutters over your neck, only a few seconds before her lips touch your soft skin. she whimpered from the taste, lowering her hands to your waist, then pulling you to her, feeling you even through the layers of clothes.

"i live by thinking about us" her lips trace your collarbone, leaving a small bite, not causing any discomfort, but making you sigh, feeling how painful it becomes to breathe. “it’s the only thing that can make me smile” your hands fall to her shoulders, sliding higher up her neck, making you desperate to feel her beneath your fingertips as you pull her closer to you. 

“don’t smile because it happened” you whisper softly, desperately, but every inflection of your voice vibrates in her ears, making her mouth go dry. billie straightens up now, looking into your eyes with a forbidden desire that eats her up from the inside. tears threaten to roll down her cheeks. “cry because it’s over”

she purses her lips, leaning forward to press her forehead to yours. hands meet between your bodies, fingers intertwining, clinging desperately to each other. you wanted, craved, starved. it was higher and more complex than normal human feelings.

lips breaking in a passionate, fiery kiss, filling your hearts with love and pain at the same time. memories of how she held this girl, how she let her cling to her, like she really belonged to her. it wasn't true. you both knew it.

"you supposed to think about me every time you hold her" your voice turns cold, putting like a hundred pounds on her heart. she kneels down, not caring at all about the bruises that will remain after.

she doesn't even have to touch your body for your hand to fall down, tugging the cap off her head and tangling your fingers in her long hair. she gives in to the grip, slightly lifting the hem of your dress to cover your thighs with wet kisses, running her tongue over the milky skin.

"your name on my tongue, even when i call her" the confession makes your insides give in to anticipation, throwing your head back against the wall. your breath catches as she slowly, almost physically torturously, pulls your underwear down your legs, holding your hand as you step out of it.

like this is all happening for the first time again. like she's touching your body like this for the first time.

"billie..." a heavy sigh as she gently places your leg on her shoulder, her cheek pressing against your bare thigh, making you shudder in anticipation. your head was spinning, a knot already forming in your stomach, just from the sight of her beautiful face between your legs. she was your girl.

fingers dig deeper into her hair as she slowly runs her tongue along your slit, collecting the wetness that formed just from missing her. she moans at the taste, desperately clutching your waist to bury her face between your thighs.

her tongue works fast, hitting all the sensitive spots and making you moan into your palm. she knew your body better than you did. only she could make your chest feel this way. only she.

"please, look at me.." her voice is muffled by your flesh as you look down, moving your hand to wipe a few tears from her eyes. billie sighs in relief, not taking her mouth away from your sweetness for a second more.

your heel scrapes her clothed back, only igniting a new flame between two needy bodies. billie loved your scratches on her strong back, your little hickeys on the underside of her neck. anything to make everyone know that she belongs to you. her heart, mind, soul, and body. all yours.

her lips wrap around your clit, which is the final point, causing you to arch your back, pressing your pussy even harder against her face. your eyes roll back into the back of your head. your fingers hold her hair tightly. your juices drip down her chin, onto her t-shirt.

“damn..” your body goes limp, but billie rises in time, hugging you tightly. her arms hold you securely upright before she sits you down on the nearest surface, handing you your panties with a playful smile. “can you handle this yourself, princess?”

butterflies flutter in your stomach at the nickname, but you simply giggle and return the item of underwear back to your body. “thank you,” the voice is quiet, intimate. billie kneels, resting her chin on your thigh. her gaze is piercing again, loving. she is so in love with you.

"don't wanna be without you" she whispers, making that sad face that made you melt every time. your fingers reach for her hand, gently wrapping around it. billie helps you up, an arm around your waist, before your body is in her arms.

"your girlfriend will see us"

"you're my girlfriend"

tags — @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxebxtch, @hopingforgoodblogs, @meliciousmel13, @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia, @maafe19 @amara-eilish @tativi @ifwdominicfike @drunkinyourbenz @sturnl0ve

[midastouch013]

It's the little things

Summary: You're new to the avengers, and kind of shy, and the redheaded assassin doesn't seem to quite like you, but you're knack of observing things might just turn things in your favour.

Warnings: None. Just fluff

P.S: If I reuse the same gifs, I'm sorry I have the memory of a goldfish

---

The rain pounded relentlessly against the roof of the safe house, a stark contrast to the tense silence inside. You sat on the worn couch, legs crossed and arms wrapped around yourself. Wanda stirred a pot of soup in the tiny kitchen, humming softly. She'd warmed up to you quickly after the mission’s chaos had forced you three into this situation. Her occasional giggles and light-hearted teasing made you feel less like the outsider you’d feared you'd be.

“You really thought hiding behind that vending machine was a solid plan?” Wanda quipped, her eyes sparkling as she turned to you.

“Hey, it worked for a solid three minutes,” you shot back, smirking. “And if it weren’t for your dramatic hand-flinging, maybe it would’ve lasted longer.”

She snorted. “Dramatic? That saved your butt!”

You two dissolved into laughter, the sound filling the small room. Across from you, Natasha sat in a chair near the window, her posture rigid as she scanned the perimeter. Her face was unreadable, cold as ever. The sharp angles of her cheekbones caught the dim light, and you couldn’t help but admire her profile, even if she barely spared you a glance.

The truth was, you had a crush on Natasha Romanoff long before joining the team. It wasn’t just her skill or her looks—though those were enough to make anyone swoon. It was the quiet strength she carried, the sharpness in her eyes that hinted at stories untold.

Wanda caught your gaze and whispered, “She’s not as scary as she looks.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, watching Natasha clean her weapons in the corner, her focus laser-sharp.

Wanda smiled. “It’s the little things with her. You’ll figure it out.”

That phrase stuck with you.

--

Over the next few days, you began to notice the small things about her. Natasha preferred her tea plain, no sugar or milk. She read mission files with the same focus most people reserved for life-or-death situations. And she had this subtle way of scanning the room, always aware of every detail.

You started adjusting, not to impress her, but because it felt natural. When Wanda offered to make tea, you quietly took over and brewed it the way Natasha liked. When she frowned at the creaky floorboards by the window, you shifted your usual spot to stand there instead.

She noticed.

At first, it was subtle—her eyes lingering on you a little longer, her voice softening when she spoke your name. You didn’t push; you let her set the pace. And while Wanda got to see your sarcastic, funny side, you approached Natasha with quiet humor and calmness.

“You’re not like the others,” Natasha said one evening, breaking the silence as you sat across from her cleaning your gear.

“Is that a compliment?” you asked, glancing up with a grin.

Her lips twitched. “It’s an observation. You don’t try too hard. That’s…refreshing.”

“High praise from the great Natasha Romanoff,” you teased lightly, earning a genuine smirk.

---

Over the next few days, you started noticing those little things. How Natasha always reached for the mug with the chipped handle, the one that everyone else ignored. How she’d subtly adjust her position so she was always facing the door, even when she sat down to eat. How she hated noisy chatter but didn’t seem to mind your sarcastic quips or quiet observations.

You started doing the little things for her without thinking—grabbing that chipped mug for her in the morning, leaving a knife sharpened just the way she liked it, or quietly placing her favorite pack of gummies that somehow was stocked plenty in a safe house instead of food like pasta, next to her seat when she’d been brooding for too long.

At first, Natasha didn’t say anything. But the first time she found that gummies, she looked at you, her expression softer than you’d ever seen. “Thanks,” she said, and it wasn’t just polite—it was genuine.

-

By the third day, the tension in the safe house had lessened. Wanda was her usual cheery self, but now Natasha didn’t seem so icy. She even joined in on some of the banter, albeit briefly.

One evening, as the three of you sat around the small table eating dinner, Natasha surprised you by asking, “Why don’t you talk as much as the others?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You want me to be more like Tony?”

She smirked. “God, no.”

“Didn’t think so.”

That earned you a quiet laugh—just a breath, really, but it was the most you’d ever gotten from her. Wanda shot you a knowing grin.

“It’s the little things,” she mouthed.

----

Back at the compound, the small things continued. You made a habit of noticing Natasha’s preferences. If you were grabbing snacks from the kitchen, you’d snag her favorite protein bar without being asked. When she trained late at night, you’d show up to spar—not to prove yourself, but because you knew she liked a challenge.

She, in turn, surprised you with her own gestures. She’d sit next to you during team movie nights, her silent presence enough to make your heart race. She laughed at your sarcastic remarks, those rare chuckles making the room feel brighter. And when you trained together, she corrected your form with a patience you hadn’t expected, her hands firm but gentle.

Six months passed in a blur of missions, training, and quiet moments. You’d become close—closer than you ever thought possible with someone like Natasha.

--

Six months later, after a particularly grueling training session, you found her sitting outside on the balcony. The compound was quiet, the sky painted with stars. Nerves twisting your stomach into knots. Natasha was leaning against the railings, her attention focused on the rare seight of stars on New York's skyline.

“Mind if I join you?” you asked, stepping out with your usual blend of sarcasm and slight awkwardness.

She glanced at you and nodded. “Suit yourself.”

You sat down beside her, the silence stretching comfortably between you.

“You know,” you started, fidgeting slightly, “I never thought I’d actually get to know you. You seemed…untouchable.”

Her lips twitched in that familiar almost-smile. “And now?”

“Now I know you’re just as human as the rest of us,” you teased, your grin softening when she looked at you. “But better at hiding it.”

Her gaze lingered on you, something unreadable in her expression.

“What about you?” she asked. “What did I miss about you?”

You snorted. “Oh, not much. Just your run-of-the-mill awkward, sarcastic mess.”

Her laugh was quiet, but it warmed you.

After a moment, you took a deep breath, heart pounding. “Natasha, can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head, curious. “Go ahead.”

“Would you want to go out sometime?” The words tumbled out faster and messier than you intended. “Like, us. Not us as in the team, just us. I mean, just…you and me?”

For a moment, her face was unreadable. Then, to your surprise, she smiled—a real, genuine smile—and leaned in. Her lips met yours in a kiss that was soft and sure, stealing the breath right out of you.

When she pulled back, her eyes searched yours. “I’d like that,” she murmured, her voice quiet but sincere.

“You notice the little things,” she murmured. “I like that about you.”

And just like that, the phrase took on a whole new meaning.

[heartsriki]

ALWAYS YOU ⌇타박상

pairing ᝰ jungwon x fem!reader — featuring.. hyuka mentioned | word count: 2.7k+

⌇ … warnings & genre ↺ fluff, angst, school au, misunderstandings, bullying, physical fights not between reader and jw, bruises mentioned, kissing, cussing.

synopsis — after a misunderstanding two years ago you have lived your school life in solitude. At least you tried too but yang jungwon just won't give up! will he continue to cling to you or will another misunderstanding take him away?

lee's ₊˚⊹ ᰔ comment ┊I really loved writing this :( I can't seem to write fics without misunderstandings lol.. I'm also trying to write longer fics slowly, I can't believe I wrote 2.7k words I got carried away.. also tysm to my moots and non-moots! the reblogs and comments make me giggle :)

For a girl who barely spoke a word, you had a reputation that clung to you like a shadow—dark, persistent, and nearly impossible to shake. Around the school, your name was passed around in hushed tones, tethered to stories people wouldn’t normally want attached to their identity.

The rumors swirled, painting a picture of you that wasn’t entirely fair, but you never bothered to correct them. The “incident” two years ago was the foundation to all of this— a fight you didn’t start but somehow took all the blame for, thanks to a girl who played the victim flawlessly in front of a crowd. From that day on, you were the one to avoid. And you didn’t mind. Solitude came easier than the tangled mess of trying to prove yourself innocent.

But, of course, there was one person who clinged to you despite of all of this.

Yang Jungwon.

The boy who seemed oblivious to the rumors. The one person who approached you time and time again. He was everything you weren’t—loved by everyone, a model student, and the poster child for perfection. So why, of all people, did he keep showing up like right now?

“Hey, Y/N, what are you up to?”

Jungwon’s familiar voice broke through your concentration, and before you could react, he was leaning over your shoulder to peek at your notes. His smile was so casual, like he belonged there, completely ignoring the bubble of isolation you carefully maintained.

You nearly jumped out of your seat, glancing around frantically to ensure no one else noticed him. “Go away, Jungwon,” you hissed, your voice low but firm.

Instead of leaving, he sighed dramatically and walked around the table, dropping into the chair across from you. “Why? Are you waiting for a friend?”

You gave him a sharp, unimpressed look, one that he immediately understood.

“Right, sorry,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck with an apologetic smile. For a moment, he looked genuinely sheepish, but then his expression brightened like he’d just remembered something important. “Oh! I had something to ask you.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Ask me, and then go away.”

His grin widened, and for some reason, you didn’t like the look in his eyes. “Do you have a partner for the Valentine’s Day event?”

At first, the words didn’t fully register. You stared at him blankly, too preoccupied with figuring out why he was even sitting here. But the second it clicked, you choked on your breath, launching into a fit of loud coughing.

When you finally recovered, you stared at him in disbelief. “Jungwon, are you crazy?” you whisper-yelled, leaning closer to ensure no one overheard. “You do realize that’s for couples, right?”

His reaction was unreadable. His throat bobbed as he gulped, and his gaze dropped to the papers scattered in front of you. “Oh? Is it? I didn’t notice… My bad.”

His voice was soft, his words almost too casual, but the faint pout tugging at his lips gave him away. Without waiting for your reply, he stood abruptly. “Well, sorry for bothering you.”

And just like that, he walked away, leaving you frozen in place.

Your mind raced, replaying the scene over and over again. There was no way Jungwon didn’t know. He was on the committee that planned these kinds of events. He had to have known.

“He’s so irritating,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head and trying to refocus on your notes.

But even as you went back to studying, you couldn’t ignore the warmth creeping up your neck, the undeniable heat spreading across your face.

Not even two hours later, you were at the same spot.

The library was quieter than usual that afternoon, with only the occasional rustle of pages and soft whispers floating in the air. You had taken refuge in your favorite corner by the window, hoping for some peace after the strange interaction with Jungwon earlier.

But, as if on cue, a shadow fell across your table. Again.

“Hey,” came his familiar voice, soft but somehow still startling.

You looked up, already narrowing your eyes. “What now, Jungwon? Seriously you don't take a hint.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, a playful grin tugging at his lips. “Relax. I come in peace.”

You weren’t convinced, but you knew he wouldn’t go away. To your surprise, instead of hovering or leaning over your shoulder like earlier, he pulled out a chair and sat down next to you this time, placing a small brown paper bag on the table.

“What’s that?” you asked, nodding toward it suspiciously.

He slid it toward you. “An apology.”

“For?”

“For, you know, earlier. Asking you something dumb and making it weird.” He avoided your gaze, scratching the back of his neck like he always did when he was nervous.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you opened the bag to find a small container of chocolate-covered strawberries inside. Your eyebrows shot up. “You bribing me with food now?”

“Is it working?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to keep a blank face but a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips before you could stop it. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression.

For a few moments, the two of you sat in an unexpected but comfortable silence. The sunlight streaming through the window cast a golden glow over his features, and you hated how your eyes lingered on him longer than they should.

“So,” he began, breaking the quiet, “why do you keep pushing people away?”

His question was so abrupt, it caught you completely off guard. Your head snapped up, and you stared at him, wide-eyed. “Excuse me?”

“I mean,” he said quickly as if trying to soften the blow, “you’re smart, funny—well when you’re not threatening to kill me—and honestly, you’re kind of cool. But you keep everyone at arm’s length. Why?”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. No one had ever asked you that. Not like this. Not with genuine curiosity in their voice.

“Surely you've heard things about me by now,” you said finally, your tone clipped as you looked away.

Jungwon seemed confused with your answer, but he didn’t push. Instead, he reached across the table and tapped the edge of your notebook. “Mm. I don’t think I have, tell me? Maybe?.”

You frowned, meeting his gaze. His eyes held something you couldn’t quite place—something soft, warm, and persistent.

“You should just stay away,” you muttered, trying to dismiss the subject.

“Don't do that…” he said, his voice quieter now, almost tender.

You opened your mouth to reply, but no words came out. Because the truth was, you didn’t know what to say.

Jungwon leaned back in his chair, a small smile playing on his lips. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’m not going anywhere. So, you’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, but you couldn’t stop the warmth blooming in your chest—or the way your heart betrayed you with its quickened pace. “You’re such an idiot for a top student,” you mumbled, but the words lacked their usual bite.

Jungwon only grinned, his eyes sparkling with something that made your stomach flip. “Yeah? Do you like idiots?.”

And for the first time, you didn’t have a comeback.

The gym field buzzed with activity, laughter, and the rhythmic pounding of feet against the track. Today was the outside gym event—a day you had been dreading for weeks.

As you trudged toward your assigned group, whispers followed you like a persistent echo. You tuned them out, keeping your head low until the coach’s voice rang out like a firecracker.

“Alright, this activity requires duos! Everyone, find a partner and line up!”

Panic surged through you as you looked around. Pairs were forming fast—friends clasping arms, strangers locking eyes and nodding. Everyone but you. It didn’t take long for the coach to notice you standing there, alone and staring at the ground.

“Ah, Kai is absent,” he muttered, scanning the field. “Jungwon! Over here!”

Your head snapped up at the name.

Jungwon jogged over from the track, his face glistening with sweat but still managing to beam like it was the best day of his life.

“Hey, Coach, what’s up?”

“We need you to partner with L/N for this activity. Can’t do it solo.”

Jungwon’s gaze flickered to you, and almost immediately, he grinned. “Sure thing.”

“Shit.” You said under your breath.

He made his way to you, his grin never faltering, though his breath came in short bursts. “Hey, Y/N. Ready to crush this thing?”

You sighed, still refusing to meet his eyes. “You should’ve said no.”

The whispers around you grew louder now, all focused on the odd pairing of you and Jungwon. You knew this wasn’t good for him—not for someone as well-liked as he was.

Jungwon, oblivious to—or maybe just indifferent to—the stares, shrugged casually. “Why would I do that? Can’t let you be on your own.”

His words made you glance up at him. His ears were red, and he was pointedly not looking at you. You assumed it was just from his earlier run. Before you could retort, the coach strode over, handing out supplies.

“Alright, teams, grab your bag and rope for the duo beanbag relay!”

Jungwon’s face lit up with amusement as he looked at the gear, and then at you.

“Oh,” he said, the corners of his mouth twitching into a mischievous smile. “This is gonna be fun.”

You could already feel the awkwardness seeping in as the realization dawned on both of you. The proximity was about to get really awkward.

As expected, you and Jungwon lost. Not because of Jungwon, but because of the proximity between you two. The way his hand rested over your shoulder for momentum, the way he whispered in your ear to calm your anxiousness, and the constant stares and murmurs from everyone around you—it was too much. It all ended with both of you falling at the last minute due to your distractions.

When the event ended, you bolted from the crowd, heading to the courtyard to be alone.

You felt like crying. That was so embarrassing—not just for you, but for Jungwon too. What would people say about him? Would his reputation be affected because of you?

You didn’t stop running until you found a water fountain tucked away in solitude. Brushing the strands of hair from your face, you leaned over to drink. Just as you felt the cool water hit your lips, you heard footsteps behind you. You turned around quickly.

“What the hell was that pitiful shitshow?”

Of course. It was Jungwon’s so-called fan club—a group of delusional girls who were utterly infatuated with him.

You muttered a curse under your breath, already knowing what was about to happen. “Not now.”

The leader of the group scoffed, turning briefly to her posse for approval. “We’ve told you time and time again to stay away from Jungwon. And now you injure him because you couldn’t run a few yards? Do you think I’m a fucking joke?”

You stared at her with a plain, uninterested expression. “I told you, I want nothing to do with him.”

She smirked mockingly. “Right… sure. One more chance, or you’ll regret it,” she said, turning to leave.

Something about her words struck a nerve. The way she thought she could control him—or anyone, for that matter—was too much for you. You couldn’t hold back.

“You’d think after all this time you’d stop being delusional and get yourself a real boyfriend.”

She stopped in her tracks and turned to face you, her expression morphing from shock to rage. Before you could react, she lunged at you with a punch.

Instinctively, you defended yourself and fought back. Within moments, students turned the corner and formed a circle around you, chanting and screaming.

You were so focused on the fight that you didn’t notice Jungwon pushing through the crowd until he and a few others separated you from the girl.

When your vision cleared, you realized how battered she looked. You hadn’t even noticed the stinging pain in your own hands and face, still numbed by the adrenaline. Looking up, you expected to see anger on Jungwon’s face, but instead, his eyes were filled with sadness and worry.

He grabbed your hand, ignoring the whistles and murmurs behind you as he pulled you away.

You didn’t say anything as he led you toward the infirmary. You didn’t need to—your thoughts were loud enough. You knew what was coming. He was going to be angry. He was going to misunderstand you, just like everyone else. He was going to leave you, like everyone else.

When you reached the infirmary, Jungwon guided you to a bed. “Sit and wait,” he said curtly.

You obeyed, glancing at him briefly before turning your attention to your bruised hands. As you brought them closer to inspect the cuts, you winced at the burning sensation.

Jungwon returned with supplies and sat beside you, placing them down. He was quiet, his face unreadable, and the tension was unbearable. You hated this. You hated how upset he seemed.

And yet, you hated yourself more—for pushing him away for so long, for the possibility that he might finally leave. The thought of never seeing him pop up at your desk unannounced, hearing his one-sided conversations in the library or even his stupid flirty remarks was enough to make your eyes well up.

Before you could stop yourself, tears spilled down your cheeks.

Jungwon looked up from cleaning your knuckles, his eyes widening at the sight of your tears. “Y/N? Hey, what’s wrong?”

You didn’t answer, unable to speak through the sobs.

Setting the supplies aside, he cupped your face gently, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “Why are you crying, gorgeous?”

You blinked up at him, your voice trembling. “I’m so sorry. I swear, she—it wasn’t me, I promise.” Your sobs grew louder, breaking his heart further.

Jungwon’s chest tightened as he took a tissue and wiped your face. “I know it wasn’t you,” he whispered softly.

Your head snapped up, meeting his gaze. “What?”

He smiled faintly and continued tending to your injuries. “I was there from the beginning. I saw her hit you first.”

You stared at him in shock, his words sinking in.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again, his voice tinged with frustration and concern. “I also heard about what happened two years ago. About all the things you’ve been through since. Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve helped you.”

You looked away, guilt washing over you. “Nobody believed me. Why would you?”

Jungwon froze for a moment, then tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “I’ve always believed in you. From the moment we met—it’s always been you.”

His words left you breathless. For the first time, you wondered if it was finally time to stop running. To stop hiding from what you wanted. You watched him as he took care of you gently, maybe you doubted him.

You were dragged out of your thoughts when he locked eyes with you. The air between you shifted, charged with something unspoken. Jungwon leaned forward, closing the gap, and kissed you gently. You were too shocked to respond at first, but soon, you let go of your fears and kissed him back.

It felt foreign but right. He held you carefully like if he was afraid you’ll go. The room was quiet with just the sighs and soft breathing from the both of you.

When he pulled away, his eyes were full of affection. “How about we hop over the fence and go somewhere hm? Just us.”

You laughed, hitting his shoulder lightly. “You? Skipping school? Don’t make me laugh.”

BONUS 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

After the fall, Jungwon watched you run off, his instinct to follow immediately thwarted by the crowd gathering around him.

People offered him water and words of praise, but his attention shifted when he overheard a conversation nearby.

“I bet she did that on purpose. Ha, what a bitch.”

Jungwon’s head snapped toward the source of the comment, his jaw tightening. “What did you just say?”

The boy hesitated, startled, but eventually smirked. “Y/N. I mean, everyone knows about her, right? Acts tough, but I bet she’s just a slut looking for attention.”

Before he could think, Jungwon punched the guy, the crack of his fist silencing the crowd.

Ignoring the shocked gasps around him, Jungwon turned and bolted in the direction you had gone. His heart pounded, not just from the run but from the overwhelming need to find you.

He needed you to know. No matter what anyone said or what happened next, his choice would always be you.

[novaursa]

Legacy (homesick)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Paring: trag!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Rating: Explicit 18+

- Previous part: of snow

- Next part: the north and the south

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxi @alkadri-layal @butterflygxril

The stormy skies above Dragonstone broke with the resounding cry of a dragon, echoing across the volcanic island. Viserion descended from the heavens like a creature of myth, her cream-and-gold scales were brilliant against the muted gray clouds as her massive wings beat against the air. The castle's courtyard, quiet just moments before, erupted into movement as guards, servants, and soldiers hurried outside, their faces a mix of awe and apprehension.

Tywin Lannister was among the first to step through the gates, his crimson cloak billowing behind him as he strode forward with purpose. His eyes scanned the sky, locking onto the dragon’s approaching form. His composure remained intact, though the quickness of his steps betrayed his urgency.

Viserion circled once above the castle before landing in the courtyard with a thundering impact that shook the ground. Dust and loose stones scattered as her powerful wings folded against her sides. Her eyes surveyed the crowd, and a low rumble vibrated from her chest, a warning to anyone foolish enough to come too close.

Perched atop the saddle, you exhaled a deep breath, the weight of your journey still heavy on your shoulders. You patted Viserion’s neck gently, murmuring a soft word of thanks before sliding from the saddle. The ground felt solid yet foreign beneath your feet after so many days in the air.

Tywin approached swiftly, his usual mask of stern control slipping just enough to reveal the faintest glimmer of relief. “You’ve returned,” he said, his voice low but steady.

You turned to face him, your heart easing at the sight of his familiar, commanding presence. “I have,” you replied, your voice equally calm, though your exhaustion was evident.

He stepped closer, his sharp gaze sweeping over you as if assessing for injuries. “You were gone longer than expected,” he said, his tone carrying an edge of reproach. “I assume there was a reason.”

You nodded, your expression softening. “Jon needed me.”

His jaw tightened slightly, though he said nothing, his silence speaking volumes. Instead, his hand moved to your arm, his touch firm yet careful. “We’ll discuss it inside. You look exhausted.”

Before you could reply, Jaime Lannister emerged from the crowd. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he said with a grin. “I thought you might’ve decided to stay in the North and make it your kingdom.”

You smirked faintly, shaking your head. “The North already has its king.”

Jaime’s expression sobered slightly at your words, though he quickly masked it with his usual humor. “Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance. The dragon’s been missed—almost as much as you.”

Viserion let out a low growl, her eyes narrowing at Jaime. He held up his golden hand in mock surrender. “Not by her, I see.”

You placed a hand on Viserion’s side, soothing her with a soft hum. “She doesn’t forget who she trusts.”

Tywin’s gaze flickered to the dragon before returning to you. “And I assume your trust has not been misplaced,” he said, his voice measured. “You’ve accomplished what you set out to do?”

You hesitated, your mind briefly flashing back to Jon Snow, to the sight of him rising from death, to the fire and betrayal that had scarred Castle Black. “As much as I could,” you said finally. “But there’s still so much more to do.”

Tywin’s lips pressed into a thin line, his understanding evident even without words. He gestured toward the castle. “Come inside. You need rest, and we have much to discuss.”

As you began to follow him, Jaime fell into step beside you, his tone light but curious. “So, how was the North? Did it change in the last few years?”

You shot him a look, though the corner of your mouth twitched upward. “It was everything you’d expect—and more.”

Jaime chuckled, though his eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, as though searching for answers you weren’t ready to share.

As the group reached the castle doors, Viserion let out another resounding roar, her wings shifting restlessly. The sound echoed across the island, a reminder of the power she carried—and the power that now resided within Dragonstone.

Tywin paused, glancing back at the dragon before looking at you. “You’ve brought back more than just news, haven’t you?” he said quietly, his gaze piercing.

You met his eyes, your expression unreadable. “I always do.”

And with that, you stepped inside, the weight of your journey still heavy on your shoulders but the warmth of home easing its burden. You were back. And the battles ahead would soon demand all of you.

The chambers of Dragonstone were warm and comforting, a stark contrast to the chill you had left behind at Castle Black. You sat in the small sitting room adjacent to the nursery, where Damon and Maelor played under the watchful eyes of their wet nurses. Damon babbled excitedly as he stacked wooden blocks into a precarious tower. Maelor cooed happily from his cushioned seat, clutching a stuffed lion in his tiny hands.

You smiled faintly as you watched them, your heart full despite the lingering weight of your recent journey. Damon turned to you, his eyes bright with excitement. “Mother, look! It’s a castle!” he exclaimed, gesturing proudly to his tower.

“It’s a fine castle,” you praised, leaning down to kiss his head. “Stronger than Dragonstone, I’m sure.”

Damon giggled, clearly pleased with your approval. Maelor let out a soft gurgle, waving his lion in the air, and you reached over to gently stroke his chubby cheek. “And you, my little lion, will have your own castles one day,” you murmured.

A knock at the door pulled you from the moment. You turned to see Tywin Lannister entering, his presence commanding as always. He paused briefly, his eyes softening as they swept over the scene before him.

“They’ve grown,” he remarked, his voice quiet but firm.

“They have,” you replied, rising to your feet. “It feels as though I was only gone a few weeks, but so much has changed.”

Tywin stepped further into the room, his gaze lingering on Maelor for a moment before shifting to Damon. The boy noticed his father and ran toward him, arms outstretched. “Father!” Damon cried.

Tywin knelt briefly, allowing Damon to hug him before resting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’ve been behaving?” he asked, his tone even.

Damon nodded eagerly. “I built a castle! Mother said it’s stronger than Dragonstone!”

A faint smile tugged at Tywin’s lips. “That’s quite the achievement,” he said before standing. He turned to you, his expression hardening slightly. “Walk with me.”

You nodded, pressing a quick kiss to Damon’s head before following Tywin out of the room. The corridors of Dragonstone were cool and quiet, the sounds of the waves crashing against the cliffs faint in the background. Tywin walked beside you, his stride measured and purposeful.

“You haven’t spoken much about what happened in the North,” he began, his tone leaving little room for evasion.

You sighed softly, clasping your hands in front of you as you walked. “There’s much to tell. Jon is alive. Melisandre brought him back… somehow.”

Tywin’s brows furrowed, though his expression remained composed. “Alive?” he echoed. “And you believe this?”

“I saw it with my own eyes,” you replied. “He was dead, Tywin. I saw his body. And then… he wasn’t. He’s changed, though. Death does that to a person.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened as he absorbed the information. “And what does he intend to do now that he’s risen from the grave?”

You hesitated before answering. “He plans to take Winterfell back. To rally the North against the Boltons.”

At the mention of the Boltons, Tywin’s expression darkened. “I put them in power for a reason,” he said coldly. “Their betrayal at the Red Wedding ensured the Starks’ rebellion ended. If Jon Snow succeeds, that alliance crumbles.”

You stopped walking, turning to face him. “The Boltons are monsters, Tywin. You must know that. Jon has no choice but to fight them—especially after what they’ve done to Sansa.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Sansa Stark is of no concern to me.”

“She’s of concern to Jon,” you countered, your voice firm. “And to me. She’s family, Tywin. And she’s suffered enough.”

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Finally, he spoke, his tone clipped. “If Snow succeeds in taking Winterfell, it will disrupt the balance I’ve worked to maintain.”

“Perhaps that balance needs to be disrupted,” you replied, your voice soft but resolute.

Tywin’s gaze lingered on you, his mind clearly weighing your words. But before he could respond, he changed the subject. “There’s another matter,” he said. “One that concerns your dragon.”

You tilted your head slightly, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What about Viserion?”

“It seems she has not been alone in Dragonmont,” Tywin said, his voice measured. “The young dragon my men encountered—smaller, about the size of a horse—it appears to have come from one of her clutches.”

Your breath caught, and you stared at him, your mind racing. “One of her eggs hatched?” you asked, disbelief mingling with awe.

“It seems so,” Tywin confirmed. “The creature has shown no inclination to leave its lair, but it has proven… difficult to subdue.”

You exhaled slowly, the weight of the revelation settling over you. “A second dragon,” you murmured. “This changes everything.”

“It complicates everything,” Tywin corrected. “But we’ll deal with it—when the time comes.”

You nodded faintly, your thoughts still swirling. Another dragon meant another piece of the puzzle, another force to contend with as the world seemed to edge closer to chaos. But for now, you took comfort in knowing you were home, with your sons and your husband by your side.

The battles ahead would come soon enough.

The evening was quiet within the private chambers of Dragonstone, the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth the only sound apart from the rhythmic crash of waves against the cliffs outside. The heavy stone walls seemed to cocoon the room in warmth, the shadows flickering across the intricately woven tapestries and rich furnishings.

You sat near the fire, a goblet of wine resting on the small table beside you. The faint exhaustion from your journey and the events in the North still lingered, but there was a sense of comfort being home again. Across the room, Tywin Lannister stood by a tall cabinet, his broad frame silhouetted against the dim light as he poured himself a drink. His movements were precise, but there was a noticeable tension in the way he held himself.

“You’ve been quiet tonight,” you remarked, watching him closely. “More so than usual.”

Tywin turned, his eyes meeting yours as he approached. He handed you your goblet, his fingers briefly brushing yours. “Much has happened in your absence,” he said simply, his tone even. “There is much to consider.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him. “That’s never stopped you before. Something’s different.”

Tywin arched a brow, his lips pressing into a thin line. “What are you implying?”

A small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “That you missed me.”

His jaw tightened slightly, though he didn’t deny it. Instead, he took a seat across from you, his piercing gaze never leaving your face. “That is not a joking matter,” he said firmly, though his voice held a softer edge.

Your smile widened, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Is that so? Then perhaps I shouldn’t tease you further.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t,” Tywin replied, though there was a faint glimmer of something warmer in his expression.

You leaned forward slightly, resting your chin in your hand as you regarded him. “I think you did miss me,” you said softly, your tone playful but laced with genuine affection. “And I think you’re terrible at hiding it.”

Tywin’s gaze darkened, though not with anger. “Your absence was felt,” he admitted after a moment, his voice low. “That is all I will say on the matter.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, the sound light and genuine. “Spoken like a true Lannister. Always so guarded.”

He stood then, moving toward you with the kind of deliberate purpose that always set your heart racing. When he reached you, his hand brushed against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. “Guarded, perhaps,” he said quietly. “But not unfeeling.”

The warmth of his words surprised you, and before you could respond, you leaned up and kissed him. The gesture was tender at first, but Tywin deepened it almost immediately, his hand slipping to the back of your neck to hold you in place. The firelight danced around the room as the kiss grew more fervent, years of passion and restraint bleeding into the moment.

You gasped softly as Tywin pulled you to your feet, his other hand finding your waist. Before you knew it, he lifted you effortlessly, setting you on the edge of a nearby table. The cool surface beneath you was a stark contrast to the heat of his body as he stepped between your legs, his hands gripping your hips firmly.

“Do you always have to take control of everything?” you teased breathlessly, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Tywin’s lips brushed against your jaw, his voice a low growl. “Always.”

You laughed softly, the sound cut off as his mouth found yours again. The air in the room seemed to grow warmer, the crackling fire casting flickering shadows across the stone walls as Tywin’s lips claimed yours with a fervor that belied his usual restraint. His hands, strong and sure, gripped your waist, pulling you closer to him as though he couldn’t bear even the smallest distance between you. Your fingers still tangled in his hair, tugging gently as the kiss deepened, your breaths mingling in the quiet of the chamber.

Still seated on the edge of the table, you tilted your head back slightly as his lips moved to your neck, the scrape of his beard against your skin sending shivers down your spine. His hands slid lower, gripping your thighs firmly as he pressed himself closer to you, his presence overwhelming yet intoxicatingly familiar.

“You’re sure you missed me,” you teased breathlessly, though your voice wavered as his mouth found the sensitive spot just below your ear.

“Enough,” Tywin growled, his voice low and commanding, though the heat in his tone betrayed his desire. “You’ve made your point.”

You smirked, though the expression faltered as his hands slid beneath your gown, his fingers brushing against bare skin. His touch was deliberate, every movement calculated to elicit a reaction, and you couldn’t suppress the soft gasp that escaped your lips.

Tywin stepped back slightly, his eyes locked on yours as he reached for the laces of your gown. His movements were slow, methodical, as though savoring every moment. The fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling around your waist as his gaze swept over you, his expression both possessive and reverent.

“You are exquisite,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp.

You felt your cheeks flush, though you refused to let him see your embarrassment. “You’ve seen me before,” you replied, your tone light despite the pounding of your heart.

“Not like this,” Tywin said, his hand brushing against your cheek before sliding down to rest against your bare collarbone. “Not after thinking for a second time I might not see you again.”

The weight of his words settled between you, and for a moment, the playful banter faded. You reached for him, your hands tugging at the fastenings of his doublet until the fabric fell away, revealing the hard planes of his chest. The scars of battles fought long ago marred his skin, but to you, they were a testament to the man he was—unyielding, unrelenting.

Your lips met again, the kiss hungrier this time, as though both of you were trying to make up for the time spent apart. Tywin’s hands found your hips, lifting you effortlessly as he carried you to the bed. He laid you down with surprising gentleness, his weight settling over you as his mouth claimed yours once more.

The rest of your clothing was discarded quickly, the cool air brushing against your skin before Tywin’s body replaced it, his heat enveloping you. His hands roamed over you with a practiced precision, finding every place that made you gasp, every touch that made you tremble.

“You’re mine,” he murmured against your skin, his voice thick with desire.

“Of course,” you whispered in reply, your fingers tracing the contours of his face before pulling him down for another kiss.

When he finally moved to join with you, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you, the sensations overwhelming yet achingly familiar. His movements were deliberate, controlled, yet there was a fire behind every touch, every thrust, that spoke of the depth of his feelings. Your hands clutched at his back, your nails digging into his skin as you moved together, each of you chasing the moment where nothing else mattered.

“Look at me,” Tywin commanded, his voice low but insistent.

Your eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze nearly undid you. There was a vulnerability there, a rare glimpse of the man beneath the armor, and it made your heart ache even as your body burned with desire. You reached up to cup his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek as you whispered, “I love you.”

The words seemed to break something in him, and his movements became more urgent, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was almost desperate. The rest of the world faded away, leaving only the two of you and the fire that consumed you both.

When the end finally came, it was with a shuddering release that left you both breathless. Tywin collapsed beside you, his chest rising and falling heavily as he pulled you into his arms. His fingers traced idle patterns on your back, the silence between you filled with a quiet intimacy that needed no words.

For a long time, neither of you spoke, content to simply exist in the moment. Finally, Tywin broke the silence, his voice a low rumble. “You should never leave for so long again.”

You smiled faintly, your head resting against his chest as you listened to the steady beat of his heart. “I’ll try,” you murmured, though you both knew the world had a way of pulling you apart.

The memory was as vivid as the day it happened, though it belonged to a time long past. Tywin Lannister, who just arrived in King’s Landing, stood in the shadowed recesses of the Red Keep, his composure unshaken despite the rising anger of the man before him. Robert Baratheon, now King of the Seven Kingdoms, loomed large, his broad shoulders taut with fury and his face flushed from too much wine—or perhaps from the betrayal he felt simmering in his chest.

“You smuggled her out,” Robert growled, his voice thick with disbelief. “A Targaryen! The blood of the dragon, Tywin! You smuggled her out and gave her to the Starks? Do you take me for a fool?”

Tywin’s eyes remained steady, his hands clasped behind his back. His expression was unreadable, save for the faintest flicker of disdain that crossed his face. “I did what was necessary to preserve the stability of the realm.”

“Stability?” Robert’s voice rose, echoing through the chamber. “The Starks sheltering a Targaryen is not stability! It’s treason!”

“Eddard Stark was loyal to your cause,” Tywin replied evenly. “And his father, Rickard, was a pragmatic man. The arrangement ensured that she would pose no threat to your rule.”

Robert slammed a meaty fist against the nearest table, causing goblets to rattle and wine to spill. “A pragmatic man who’s now dead, thanks to her mad father! And yet his family harbors her under their roof? You expect me to believe this isn’t some Stark ploy to restore the Targaryens?”

Tywin stepped forward, his presence as imposing as the king’s, though he did not raise his voice. “The Starks are no fools, Robert. They know the cost of rebellion. The girl was harmless when the rebellion ended—no titles, no claim, no power. She is nothing but a ward.”

Robert’s glare darkened, his hand moving to the hilt of the warhammer at his side. “A ward who bears the name of Targaryen and the blood of a king! You dare tell me that isn’t dangerous?”

Tywin tilted his head slightly, his expression calm but sharp. “Dangerous to whom? To you? The rebellion crushed House Targaryen. Their forces are scattered, their dragons extinct long ago, and their dynasty is ashes. A single girl hidden away in the North changes nothing.”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Robert barked, his voice dripping with venom. “You weren’t there when Aerys burned my friends. You didn’t hear the screams.”

“And you weren’t there when Aerys humiliated my house,” Tywin countered coldly. “I’ve no love for Targaryens, Robert, but I also understand when vengeance becomes wasteful. Do you want peace, or do you want the entire realm to burn?”

Robert faltered, his grip on his warhammer loosening. He turned away, pacing furiously before rounding on Tywin again. “You made this decision without consulting me—your king! You think I’ll just forget this?”

“You agreed to marry my daughter,” Tywin said smoothly, his voice cutting through Robert’s rage like a blade. “A union that solidifies your rule and ensures the loyalty of the most powerful house in Westeros. If you wish to jeopardize that alliance over a powerless girl, then by all means, do so.”

Robert froze, his face twisted in a mixture of fury and frustration. “You would threaten me?”

“I do not make threats,” Tywin replied, his tone deadly calm. “I make calculations. The girl is no threat to you, Robert. But if you insist on pursuing this, you will force the Starks to choose between loyalty to their king and their honor. Do you truly wish to provoke the North so soon after uniting the realm?”

The weight of Tywin’s words seemed to hang heavy in the air. Robert’s chest heaved as he wrestled with his emotions, his knuckles white around the hilt of his warhammer. Finally, he let out a frustrated growl and slammed the weapon onto the table, the force of the impact reverberating through the room.

“I’ll allow it,” he spat, though his voice was heavy with reluctance. “But mark my words, Tywin—if she so much as whispers the word ‘throne,’ I’ll see her burned along with anyone who stands in my way.”

Tywin inclined his head, his expression unchanging. “Then we are agreed.”

Robert glared at him for a moment longer before storming out of the chamber, his footsteps echoing down the hall. Tywin remained still, his mind already turning over the implications of their conversation. The girl had been a gamble, a carefully placed piece in the grand game of thrones. But Tywin had no intention of losing.

As the doors slammed shut behind Robert, Tywin turned to pour himself a goblet of wine, his movements calm and deliberate. He raised the cup to his lips, his mind sharp as ever.

The Targaryen girl would stay hidden in the North, safe and forgotten. For now.

[omgkatherine01]

i neeeed a kraven smut where he’s warning the reader they can’t have sex because he won’t be able to control himself and he’ll hurt her. the reader is really submissive and innocent but he keeps smelling and sensing how turned on she is, the tension is too high and he gives in and they have really rough sex. i mean like him choking her, pinning her down, and maybe biting her. after he feels really bad for how rough he was, but he couldn’t help himself because it was all instincts from his animalistic side. i cannot stop thinking about it.

Kraven's Temptation

Pairing: Sergei Kravinoff x Fem!reader

Warning: Smut!, little bit of blood

Masterlist (requests are currently open for now)

Sergei's eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity as he growled, "We can't do this. I won't be able to control myself... I'll hurt you."

You trembled, a mix of fear and arousal coursing through your body. "I--I trust you," you whispered, your innocence only heightening his primal urges.

He inhaled sharply, catching your scent. "You have no idea what you're doing to me," he rasped, his control slipping.

Unable to resist any longer, Sergei pounced, pinning you beneath him. His strong hands gripped your wrists as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss. You gasped as he bit your lower lip, drawing blood.

Sergei's grip tightened as he trailed hungry kisses down your neck. You whimpered, both from pain and pleasure, as he bit down on your sensitive skin. His powerful body pressed you into the mattress, leaving you breathless.

"Mine," he growled possessively, one hand moving to encircle your throat. He applied just enough pressure to make you lightheaded as he roughly entered you. You cried out, overwhelmed by the intensity.

Sergei set a punishing pace, driven by pure animal instinct. His fingers dug into your hips hard enough to bruise as he took you relentlessly. You surrendered completely to his domination, lost in a haze of pain and ecstasy.

As the intensity built, Sergei's grip on your throat tightened. Your vision began to blur at the edges as he pounded into you mercilessly. Just when you thought you might pass out, he released your neck, allowing you to gasp for air. The rush of oxygen heightened every sensation.

"That's it, take all of me," he snarled, his voice rough with lust.

You cried out as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. Sergei growled in approval, angling his hips to strike it again and again. The coil of pleasure inside you wound impossibly tight.

"Sergei, please!" you begged, not even sure what you were asking for.

He leaned down, his teeth grazing your ear. "Come for me," he commanded.

With a strangled cry, you obeyed. Waves of intense pleasure crashed over you as your body convulsed beneath him. Sergei groaned deeply, your release triggering his own. He thrust into you a final time, holding you tightly as he spilled himself inside you.

For several long moments, the only sound was your shared ragged breathing. As the haze of passion faded, Sergei's eyes widened in horror at the marks covering your body. Bruises were already forming on your wrists and hips, and angry red bite marks dotted your neck and shoulders.

"Oh god," he choked out, scrambling off of you. "I'm so sorry. I... I couldn't control myself. I told you I would hurt you."

You winced slightly as you sat up, your body aching pleasantly. "Sergei, it's okay," you said softly, reaching for him. "I wanted it. All of it."

He shook his head, unable to meet your eyes. "No, it's not okay. I... I'm a monster. I should never have let this happen."

You reached out to gently touch Sergei's arm. "You're not a monster," you said softly. "Please don't say that."

He flinched away from your touch, his eyes filled with self-loathing. "Look at what I've done to you," he said hoarsely. "I could have seriously hurt you. I did hurt you."

"But you didn't seriously hurt me," you insisted. "I'm okay, Sergei. More than okay."

He finally met your gaze, searching your face. "How can you say that? After what I just did..."

You took his hand, placing it over your heart. "Feel that? My heart is racing, but not from fear. I've never felt more alive." You leaned in closer. "Or more wanted."

Sergei's expression softened slightly. "You truly aren't afraid of me?"

"Never," you breathed.

He pulled you into his arms, holding you as if you were made of glass. "I don't deserve you," he murmured into your hair.

You nestled against his chest, feeling safe and cherished. "Let me be the judge of that."

Sergei's arms tightened around you, his body still tense with lingering guilt. You nuzzled against his chest, breathing in his musky scent.

"I meant what I said," you murmured. "I trust you completely."

He sighed, running his fingers gently through your hair. "Your trust in me is misplaced. I lost control. My instincts took over and I..." he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

You tilted your head up to meet his troubled gaze. "And you gave me exactly what I needed," you said softly. "What we both needed."

Sergei's brow furrowed. "How can you say that? I was far too rough. I could have seriously harmed you."

"But you didn't," you insisted. "You pushed me to my limits, yes. But you didn't go beyond them." You traced your fingers along his stubbled jaw. "That's the difference between you and a true monster, Sergei. Even in the throes of passion, some part of you was still aware. Still in control."

He caught your hand, pressing a tender kiss to your palm. "I wish I could believe that," he said quietly.

You shifted in his arms, wincing slightly as your sore muscles protested. Sergei immediately loosened his hold, concern etched on his features.

"See?" you said with a soft smile. "You're still being gentle with me now. Your instincts aren't solely about violence or domination."

Sergei's expression remained troubled, but some of the tension left his body. He carefully traced the marks he'd left on your skin, his touch feather-light.

"I never want to hurt you," he murmured.

You caught his hand, bringing it to your lips. "Then don't push me away," you said. "That's the only thing that could truly hurt me."

Sergei's eyes softened as he gazed at you. Slowly, hesitantly, he leaned in to press a tender kiss to your forehead.

"What did I do to deserve you?" he whispered.

You smiled, snuggling closer to him. "You were simply yourself," you replied. "That's all I ever wanted."

As Sergei held you close, his guilt began to fade. In its place, a fierce protectiveness took root. He may not fully trust himself, but he would do everything in his power to keep you safe - even from his own darker nature.

[bloodlineslut]

Mad at Me | Roman Reigns

Images/GIFs aren’t mine, credits to rightful owners.

Pairings: Roman Reigns x black! Reader

Warnings: slight arguing, pent up (sexual) frustration, smut, choking, spanking

Summary: You and your husband Roman have been bumping heads a lot lately, but he has just the thing to set you straight.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: This one is kinda inspired by Mad at Me by Sexyy Red. It’s just filthy. That’s it.

“Baby, you gone stop this lil’ attitude you been having.” Roman firmly tells you while he pours some Crown Royal over ice. Lord knows he needs it.

“My attitude? Nah that’s been all you.” You sassily combat his words before flipping your goddess braids over your shoulder and walking up the stairs of your 2-story lavish home. Your plan was to just come upstairs to relax and get away from the source of your attitude, but you hear his heavy footsteps not far behind you.

You smack your teeth and roll your eyes as you walk into your shared master bedroom. “Roman, I just don’t wanna talk to you right now.” Truth be told, you’re not exactly sure why you’ve been mean to him. He hasn’t done anything wrong, really. You just wish he was at home more.

You glance up from your phone to see him firmly put his drink down on the dresser. He walks up to you and quickly takes your phone out of your hands and places it on the same dresser.

“Really?” You squint your eyes, looking up at his large figure. He had on black sweatpants and a fitted, black T shirt that displayed his muscles that looked like they were trying to break free. He’s also been getting a little more grey in his beard as the years go by, and it just makes him look even more fine.

“Yes, really. Baby, I’m getting tired of your lil’ smart ass mouth.” He admits.

Your mouth parts a little, surprised that he’s arguing back at you. Usually he keeps everything in when you get like this.

“Okay well I wouldn’t have a ‘smart ass mouth’ if you didn’t make me mad.” You cross your arms across your chest, unintentionally pushing your breasts together which caught Roman’s attention for a split second.

He licked his lips, but returned back to his upset expression on his face.

“But that’s the thing! I don’t know why you’re mad!” His voice raises just a little out of frustration.

You roll your eyes and turn your head to look away from him. “I already told you why I was mad.”

There was silence in the bedroom for a bit, but it felt longer with his eyes on you, raking up and down your body.

“…I know what it is.” Roman finally says, stroking his thick beard slowly.

You say nothing, wanting to hear if he finally figured it out.

“You need some of my attention.” He tells you. You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time today.

Ugh, he has such a big ego.

“Oh please, Roman. If I want attention, I know how to get it.” You rebut his so-called realization.

“Yeah, you sure do. I haven’t been home as much, and you just need some attention.”

He walks closer to the edge of the bed, towering over you and brings one of his large hands to your chest, gently and firmly pushing you back to lay on the king-sized bed.

You don’t even have time to let out a smart ass remark because Roman captures your soft, plump lips in his. He took the lead in the kiss, caressing your lips, and you could taste the faint presence of the brown liquor. His hands wrapped around your thighs and hooked them around his waist.

You started to bring your hands to his face, but he stopped you and pinned them both to the soft mattress, and at the same time, he softly slipped his tongue into your mouth to start sloppily kissing.

All the anger and irritation that you felt towards him just seemed to melt away in his mouth as his kisses took your breath away. You let out a whimper and breathless moan.

His soft lips left your mouth, but stayed connected to your skin as he trailed open mouth kisses down your jaw, then to your awaiting neck. He licked a hot stripe up your sweet spot, then latched his lips right there and kissed and sucked it.

You bit your swollen lips and tried to break out of the hold that his hands still had on yours, pinned to the bed.

“If I let go, are you gon’ give me any more mouth?” His voice came out deeper than normal, so turned on and horny.

You helplessly shake your head no.

He unpins his hands from yours, but for some reason you keep them there, above your head. He notices this.

“Yea, you know what? Keep ‘em up there.” His lips leave your neck, trailing over your collarbone, kissing there, and then to your breasts.

“Giving me all that damn sass and shit…” He quietly growls out before wrapping his lips around your hard nipple and swirling his tongue around it. Your back arches up from the bed and closer to his mouth.

His other hand gently kneads your other breast, rolling the nipple between his thick, strong fingers.

You moaned out at the delicious feeling. It was like the pleasure from your nipples went straight down to your core, making more of your essence leak out of you and onto your pink panties.

Roman’s lips kissed across the valley between your breasts and wrapped his lips around the other nipple. His tongue swirling around it and sucking it made your head spin.

“This what you wanted baby?” He looks you dead in your eyes before resuming his delicious attack on your sensitive nipples.

You threw your head back on the bed in pleasure, unable to answer.

His lips left your nipple and you feel both of his strong hands on your waist, flipping you over on your stomach. He grabs your hips, so your ass is in the air.

You feel the bed lighten as he gets off it, but his presence is back just as quickly as it left. He took his sweatpants and boxers off, his heavy cock very erect.

You feel his hands grab and squeeze your cheeks, before landing a spank on one, and it makes you lurch forward a little.

He pulls you right back to where you were. “Mm mm. Ain’t no running, baby. You been acting like a little brat all week. I’m ‘bout to get all that outta you.” He lands another spank on your other cheek, enjoying watching the cheeks jiggle.

Roman hooks his fingers in the waistband of your panties and slides them off of your ass, but only pulls them down to stop at your knees.

He pulls your plump cheeks apart, seeing that little hole glistening, dripping, and squeezing around nothing.

“Unghh, Roman…please?” Your voice comes out in a whimper.

“Oh, now you wanna be nice?” He laughs. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy will get you right.” Those were the last words you hear before you felt his tongue lick up the length of your pussy.

It invaded all of your wet folds, spreading your wetness everywhere. His large hand grabbed your ass, pulling it away from his mouth, trying to spread you out as much as possible for his tongue.

You couldn’t even think straight, it felt so good. He maneuvered his skilled tongue up and down, slowly, but reaching every part of your pussy.

He then switched between flicking your exposed clit with his tongue and sucking it between his lips to get your taste in his mouth.

“Fuck, princess. You always taste so good.” He tells you then resumes back to delicately flicking your fluttering clit. He licked up to your hole, then stuck his tongue inside your pussy.

“Oohh Roman!” The words came out of your mouth before you realized it. He then got into a motion of moving his tongue in and out of your desperate hole.

This felt too good. You started to move your hips back, fucking his tongue. That made him groan out. “Come on baby, just like that.”

You were getting closer to your orgasm just by fucking his tongue when he suddenly pulled away. You looked at him over your shoulder.

“Why’d you stop?” You desperately ask him.

He smirks and kneels on the bed behind you. “Because I want you to take this dick and come on it.” He says lowly. You feel him rub the head of his heavy cock up and down your slick folds, his other hand resting on your hip.

He does this for too long. “Roman please just put it in,” You practically beg him. He doesn’t say anything but makes your wish come true. He slowly slides his thick length inside your tight pussy. He growled lowly at the intense pleasure.

He lets you get adjusted to his size, which he can tell by you not being so tense anymore. You just let your body flop against the bed.

He kept one hand on your hip and brought the other one to your shoulder, getting leverage. The first few thrusts were gentle, making you moan out.

Roman wanted you to lose yourself a couple times.

With both hands on your waist now, he increased the strength of his thrusts, but not going too hard. Just enough to make you want to run from him because it feels too good.

“I knew you just needed some dick.” His pleasure-filled voice rang out. Your face rested against the sheets. Your mouth was hanging open, not able to form words, and spit was leaking onto the sheets just like your juices were.

“Tell Daddy how good I’m digging you out.” Roman prompted and slowed his thrusts to be achingly slow, feeling every ridge, every inch of his cock rubbing against your walls.

“Mmm—it feels so good, Daddy.” You manage to get out.

He resumed his powerful, deep thrusts while looking at how your ass jiggled with each one. He raised his hand and brought a blow to your ass amid his thrusts. “You better act right after this.” He warns you.

Every thrust makes you crave more and more, so you say anything to keep him from stopping.

“I—I will Daddy. I’ll be so g—good.” You say in between your moans of pleasure and whimpers.

“Alright. Let me hit that spot for you, princess.” He forces your back to arch more so he can rub against your G-spot.

He finds it instantly, feeling you clench tighter around him.

“Oh fuck! Yesss—right there!” You scream out. He dug you out so good it made your head want to explode.

“Yeah? Come on, princess. You taking that dick so good.” Roman kept thrusting at that exact angle. You felt your orgasm quickly building and it finally hit you.

Your legs were shaking and you screamed as more of your juices leaked out and onto Roman’s dick.

He loved feeling your pussy clamp down on his dick like that and you always creamed too.

He let you ride your high, but then he gently pulled out and switched positions so that he laid on the large bed and you were straddling him. He brought your face down to his and kissed you, while positioning his length to enter you again.

Your mouth fell open in pleasure and he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. Roman wrapped his arms around you in a bear hug and drilled up into your crying pussy.

“Oh my God, shit Roman! Yo—you fuck me so good,” You moan into his ear.

“Because you was asking for it, baby.” He released you from his arms and you sat up with his hands on your hips.

Now he was making you move up and down. Slow, but hard. The combination of different styles made you feel your orgasm start to come quicker than usual. It was so intense you wanted to cry.

Roman was looking at you, biting his lip. He brought his hand up to your neck and squeezed just the slightest.

“Come on, baby.. Fuck yourself so you can come, and I’ll come with you.” Roman just always knew what to say to push you over that edge of losing yourself.

You keep bouncing on his throbbing dick and Roman feels his balls begin to tighten.

His hips meet your bouncing, more frantic, and your eyes roll back in your head as your orgasm hits you. Your walls tighten even more on his thickness, pushing him over the edge too.

Your thighs try to close together, but Roman keeps them open, his thumb landing on your clit and rubs circles on it to help prolong your orgasm as he comes inside of you.

“Fuck…” He lowly says as his mouth hangs open also.

You both try to catch your breath, both of you thoroughly satisfied now. Roman gently raises you up off of him, and wraps his arms around you once you’re laying next to him on the bed.

He kisses your forehead and you both are silent, just enjoying each other’s presence. After a while, Roman asks you a question.

“Did you really just need me?” He says in your ear.

You nod. “…I just missed you. I know you have to work, but—I don’t know. I guess I just let it control me..” You admit as you shyly look at his naked chest, tracing the tribal markings on his skin.

His fingers raise your chin up to look at his eyes. “Baby, you can tell me those things.” He says with honesty. You two kiss again.

“Hey, next time I’m away, and you miss me…just call me. I always answer.” He says after breaking away from the kiss. “I’ll even talk you through it over the phone.” He winks at you, making you hit his chest playfully and you both laugh before snuggling each other, waiting to fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[heartsforvin]

could you write an imagine where vin gets readers dad's permission to marry her + include a proposal? i feel like that'd be so cute to read!

from 🤎 anon

BLESSINGS

this is soooo cute thank you so much for the request !!

pairing: vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings: cussing, use of pet names, if i missed anything lmk !!!

summary: vinnie gets your fathers blessing to marry you, since he dreams of spending the rest of his life with you

authors note: trying to clear out my inbox from months worth of requests 🥲

you and vinnie had been dating for five years when he finally decided he truly did want you in his life forever. he had spent the last few months planning out everything from how to get your fathers permission, all the way from where and how he was going to ask you.

once he had it to a T, he planned out how your day was going to go. vinnie had texted one of your friends, telling her the plan on how he was going to propose to you today.

he asked if she could take you out to get your nails done, but to not make it looks suspicious, moralize the two of you were just going to have a normal girls day.

once you had finally left the house, vinnie took minute to recollect himself, gain the strength and courage to go over to your parents place and ask that big question to your father.

stepping out of his car, vinnie walked up to the front door of your parents place and rang the doorbell, awaiting for an answer.

after a few seconds the door opens and your mother appears. "vinnie, what a surprise," the woman greets the blonde with a smile and hug. "what are you doing here?" she asks.

vinnie clears his throat, stuffing his hands in his sweatshirt pockets. "is mr. y/ln home?" vinnie asks.

your mother nods, opening the door wider for vinnie to step inside. once inside, your mom directs vinnie to where your dad is, he thanks her before heading into the living room.

when your dad notices vinnie he stands up from the couch and shakes his hand. "hey vinnie, what brings you here?" he asks.

vinnie smiles softly before speaking. "i wanted to talk to you, o-or more so ask you something." the blonde stutters out.

the older man nods, vinnie can see the confusion laced with a bit of fear on his face, wondering what he's about to say.

both men take a seat across from each other and your dad nod for vinnie to continue.

the blonde can't help but feel the anxiety rise, suddenly freezing up as he tries to ask the most important want question to your father.

"i um," vinnie clears his throat and chuckles softly. "i wanted to ask for your blessing to marry y/n." he finally gets out.

the older man looks at your boyfriend for a minute, but then a small smile appears, making vinnie's nerves calm.

"you want to marry my daughter?" your father asks, making sure he heard correctly.

vinnie nods. "yes, i- i do, i love her very much, maybe even more than myself or even life itself. i want to give her the best life, the life she deserves. you've known me for the last five years, and i have no doubt that if you didn't like me or anything like that, that you would've given me the boot years ago. so yes, i do want to marry your daughter, to be apart of her life forever, because honestly, i can't see my world without your daughter in it."

vinnie watches the man's expression change, seeing a smile appear on his face. "i know you're a good man, vinnie,” your dad reassures. “y/n loves you very much, i can tell from the way she’d always come home from a date of yours and had the biggest smile. so this is me giving you my blessing to marry her, make her the happiest woman in the world.”

vinnie smiled widely, not really believing the words he’s hearing right now, but loving it. he shakes the man’s hand and thanks him, staying for a bit longer to gather ideas on how he wants to propose to you.

he wants to make it special, to make it memorable to both of you. on his way home, all he thought about was his idea on how he was going to ask the big question.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

days have passed now and vinnie has come up with the perfect way to ask you to marry him. he had told you to get your nails done, you thought it was a bit suspicious since it wa so out of the blue, but you went along with it anyways.

it was almost sunset, the perfect time for this. vinnie was getting the last finishing touches set up. he was planning on having you meet him at the place he took you for your second date.

the date that really sealed the deal for you both.

once everything was set up an done, vinnie waited anxiously for your text. the place in question was on top of a hill vinnie had taken you to, saying it was perfect to watch the sunset.

you finally texted him saying you wee here and vinnie walked down to meet you.

vinnie smiles when he sees you. "hey, you." he says as he pulls you into a hug.

you kiss the side of his head, smiling at him as you pull way. "another spontaneous date?" you ask with a small chuckle.

vinnie tries to play it off and laughs along with you.he takes your hand and takes you up the hill.

"close your eyes, its a surprise." vinnie says, watching you close your eyes.

once up on the hill, vinnie smiled as he told you to open your eyes. once you did, a wide smile spread across your face.

"vin," you whisper as you look up at him. "what's all this for?" you ask.

vinnie smiles, placing his hands on your hips, holding you close to him. "wanted to surprise you." he ays.

he takes your hand and walks with you to the picnic blanket that laid just in the right spot to get perfect view of the sunset.

you can't help but keep smiling feeling immensely happy. vinnie takes your hands in his and looks at you.

the sun was eating as he looked at you, now was the perfect time to say what he wanted.

"you mean the world to me, do you know that?" vinnie asks, making you smile softly as you nod.

he smiles, getting down on one knee, which makes you gasp. "i want to spend the rest of my life with you, raise kids, grow old, all of it." he starts.

you don't know how to feel in the moment, emotions heightened as you listen to vinnie speak. "i love you so much, sweetheart. everything about you amazes me everyday. i can't imagine a life without you, so would you do me the honor of being my wife?"

your eyes start welling with tears, not believing what's actually happening. you nod, smile wide across your face as you tell him yes.

"I'll marry you, vinnie," you whisper a you lean into hug him. "i love you so much."

vinnie let go and kisses you softly. "can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." he whispers against your lips.

you smile, hugging him tightly. the rest of the night was spent with laughter and love. you can't wait to spend the rest of your life with him either.

first fic of 2025 !!!!! this has been in my drafts since august so it’s been in here a bit 😭 i hope you all liked it either way !!!

tags: @anqeliclust , @deansbeer , @nativegirltapes , @khackerr , @slvthrs , @bernelflo , @laylasbunbunny , @jpg3 , @khxna , @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom , @lovingsturniolo , @louloulemons-blog , @visualbutterflysworld , @0strawberrysorbet0 , @miilzzy , @hallecarey1 , @kriissy4gov , @skye-44 , @leqonsluv3r , @defnotayonna , @kayleighh , @supabhad , @sturnioloshacker , @submattenthusiast

[babejinxy]

Jinx x f!reader special new year 2

✨ Hey guys, this is longer than I planned, so there will be part 3 which will be the end, ok?

🌟 English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any mistakes.

🥂Part 1

Jinx was sitting with her legs wide open in her chair when you appeared in front of her wearing a very short white dress, the bust was a corset that perfectly shaped your silhouette and showed off the top of your tits. She ran her eyes over your body shamelessly, her magenta eyes burning into you made your skin crawl.

“Are you going to wear this today?” she asked, tilting her head still checking your body, her eyes going up from your legs to your cleavage. “Is there a problem with my outfit?” you asked feigning innocence. Jinx gave a short giggle, “Of course, this is for my eyes only, doll”, she bit her lower lip when you turned your back to her and bent over to adjust your sandal and as you did so your dress rode up and she could see your inviting panties and the edge of your ass. Of course you did everything on purpose.

You turned to face her again and walked towards her. “Do you think I’ll attract any stares from others?” Your girlfriend clicked her tongue, “Let them dare, toots or I’ll have to show them what it’s like to be one-eyed, like Caitlyn,” she laughed as she patted the holster on her pants where her gun was. “I don’t think they would have the courage,” you said, sitting on her lap and wrapping your arms around her neck. Her hands immediately went to your waist.

“They better keep their eyes off you, or I’ll have to remind them who you belong to, baby, and who I am,” she squeezed your waist tightly, making you gasp. She leaned closer to your ear and said with her lips brushing against it, “you look so damn hot in that little dress, sugar.” Your core was already aching for her, she sucked your earlobe and then began to kiss and bite your neck. You were good this time and let her enjoy you a little. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, making room for her to taste the skin of your neck even more, which she did willingly.

Jinx lowered her lips to the top of your tits and left light bites and licks there. Your panties were already wet and you moaned softly at the feeling of her tongue. She placed her hands on each of your thighs and squeezed them tightly. You lifted her head and buried your lips in her neck, kissing and biting slowly, just to tease her even more. “Baby please, let me touch you, I want you riding my fingers.” Her voice getting hoarse as she begged you to let her fuck you almost made you give in, almost…

You dropped a kiss on the pulse point on her neck and cupped her jaw with your right hand. You gave her lips a kittenish lick and bit her bottom lip, which made her sigh heavily and dig her nails into the skin of your thigh. “I would, my desperate blue teddy bear, but we’re late,” you said, quickly getting up from her lap.

She snorted and got up from the chair, grabbing a backpack and putting it on her back, you preferred not to know what was inside. “You know girl, you're really screwed when I catch you.”

𒀯~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~𒀭𒀮

As the night went on - as usual when you were around other people - Jinx didn't take her hands off you and didn't leave your side for a minute. She didn't trust topsiders and you only made things worse by wearing your sexy and revealing short dress, of course she would be possessive about it, she had to make sure no one would look at you.

You on the other hand continued with your provocations, like leaving kisses on her neck from time to time - when no one was looking of course - dodging her when she tried to kiss you, sitting on her lap at times when you knew she couldn't touch you or simply crossing your legs making your dress rise even more showing a lot of what she couldn't touch now.

Sometime during the night when Jinx had been distracted from you for a few minutes, Cait approached you trying to bring up some topic to break the tension, Vi would like that and Cait knew you were easier to deal with than Jinx - not that Cait cared much about her, their dislike for each other was mutual - but the fact that she tried to get closer to you was a very wrong idea.

“Would you like some champagne?” Cait said, holding out a glass to you. You were hesitant to accept it right away, it was hard for you to trust Pilties. When she noticed you were shying away, she smiled amiably, “It’s okay, it’s not too strong, it’s actually quite tasty, have you ever had it?” You shook your head. “You have the chance now, if you don’t like it, you don’t have to bother drinking it then.” You took the glass from her hand and smiled shyly, “Thank you.”

Cait brought her glass closer to yours, but before you could toast you felt your girlfriend's hands around your waist squeezing tightly, she took the glass from your hand and stared at Cait with her eyes becoming even more pink, bubbly and angry. Cait just rolled her eyes at Jinx's arrival.

“Wanna toast? To what exactly? To me blowing your skulls open? Because that’s what’s going to happen if you ever come near my girlfriend again.” She threw the glass on the floor and it shattered, spilling liquid all over the incredibly clean, shiny floor. “Oops, I guess you’ll have to ask your employees to clean up that mess, won’t you?” she laughed.

“You’re… so repulsive, Jinx,” Caitlyn said through gritted teeth. “Me? Ha! First you steal my sister and now you try to steal my girlfriend and I’m repulsive?”. You looked around and people were very distracted and relaxed, as was Vi who was talking to who you believed to be Jayce. "Steal your girlfriend? For God's sake you must be out of your mind again, you lunatic”. Jinx gave the older woman a manic look, one you knew well and you noticed when she reached her hand - the one that wasn't on your waist - to the holster on her pants where she kept her gun. "Yeah... do you want me to show you how crazy I am, Caitlyn?" she spat the last words.

“Jinx, that’s enough, let’s go,” you said, placing your left hand on her arm and pulling her to leave. “If it weren’t for your sister, you’d be in jail,” Cait said finally. “Son of a bitch,” Jinx tried to go after Cait, but you took her out of the room. “Honey, we’re leaving now, okay? Forget about it,” you said, trying to calm her down.

You stopped in the entrance hall of Caitlyn's mansion and before you could realize or react, you were against a wall. Your girlfriend was pinning you against it, her eyes burning into yours, her hands holding your wrists on either side of your head with monstrous strength.

“Baby what y-“, before you had a chance to ask, she crashed her lips into yours hard and kissed you fast and deep, pulling your bottom lip between her teeth so hard it hurt and you felt a slight taste of iron. “You pissed me off toots, yeah you pissed me off so fucking much”, she kissed you again, you tried to release your wrists from her fierce grip, but you couldn’t.

She left your lips and attacked your neck, biting and sucking so hard that you moaned with the sensation of pain and pleasure. She continued, there were definitely marks on your skin. “You’ve been annoying me since early peach, with your damn teasing, wearing that damn dress, dodging me and then you talked to Caitlyn? I told you I was going to get you baby and I told you that when I did that you would be fucked and well… you are”, she was biting your neck as she said this and you could already feel your panties sticky with your excitement.

“I could have caught you and ended your bad manners much earlier, toots, but I wanted to see how far you would go with this shit, now…”, she let go of your right wrist and held it with the other, then she grabbed your right breast and squeezed it, the soft flesh spreading between her fingers, you gasped and bit your lower lip. “… now you have no way to escape from me, unless I let you and you know what, princess?”, she got closer to your ear, “I'm not willing to do that anytime soon”.

She slammed her lips against yours once more and moved her hand down from your chest and slipped it under your dress, caressing your clit over your soaked panties. You released her lips and leaned your head against the wall and sighed, “God jinx…”

She sank her teeth into the skin of your neck again and after sucking it, leaving a purple mark with spots of blood, she licked there, making you moan softly. “Aren’t you ashamed of being this wet for me, baby?”, she mocked you. “Oh shut up and finish me already, Jinx”, you said with a shaky voice.

“Oh but I’m really going to, babe, I’m going to destroy you, I’m going to ruin you… you’re going to beg me to stop and you know what’s funniest? You won’t be in any position to give orders”, she laughed and pinched your clitoris hard and you gasped in pain, your eyes filled with tears and she bit her lower lip, getting wet just at the sight of you.

Before she could go back to torturing you, your skin and body on fire, the clock on the wall warned that it was only ten minutes to midnight and she still had something else planned for you. “Shit”, she grumbled and took her hands off you. “What’s wrong, love?”, you asked, already missing her hands on you. She looked at you with a wicked look and smile, “It’s my turn to play, bunny”…

Part 3?? 👇🏻🥂