#and then they end up completely out of control

[monster-effer]

ADHD reader x LaDS headcanons

Summary: My headcanons on how the LaDS men would be with a reader who has ADHD. Content: Sylus x reader, Xavier x reader, Rafayel x reader, Zayne x reader, Caleb x reader (separate), ADHD mention, impulse control issues, money management issues, inattentiveness, forgetfulness, hyperfixations, Caleb being toxic™, a smidgen of angst, fluff, gn!reader, no reader pronouns mentioned (1.4k wc) A/N: These are some headcanons I wrote in response to a request I received on AO3. I included some of the traits mentioned based on personal experience with my loved ones + ones mentioned in the request.

To my ADHD babies: I hope y’all like this ♡

Sylus – impulse control issues + poor money management

You and Sylus have been dating for a few months now, and during that time he’s become well acquainted with a few things:

You are diagnosed with ADHD You are impulsive when it comes to fun purchases You struggle with money management

He has seen how you put yourself into tight financial situations because you cannot resist buying a special edition plushie that just released at midnight.

On multiple occasions you have spent countless hours and your last dollar at the arcade trying to nab a plushie that is smooshed into the corner of the claw machine. Some days you get the plushie you want and other days you don’t. But in either scenario, you end up eating ramen noodles until your next paycheck hits.

Although you have tried to hide this impulsive side of yourself, Sylus doesn’t miss a single thing about you. He has eyes, ears and a crow at his disposal in and outside of the N109 Zone.

He has no interest in trying to “correct” this part of you, instead he tries to help you in his own way.

He gives you his black card so you can impulsively purchase whatever you want, guilt free. And when you refuse to use it, he replaces your payment information with his on each website you frequently use to go shopping.

You eventually notice this and re-enter your information, but Sylus would follow up and replace it with his card information once again. He was relentless, and eventually you gave in.

He also (secretly) became the owner of the arcade you frequent so you get unlimited coins and can hog the claw machine for as long as you like without being disturbed.

He never wants you to fall behind on your bills or have to skip a fun purchase due to the limitations of your bank account. Sylus is filthy rich and has everything he could ever ask for, including you.

Nothing else in this world gives him as much pleasure as fulfilling your desires and he will always strive to do so.

Rafayel – lost in thought/ignore your surroundings

Every time Rafayel meets you in a new timeline, he notices small differences. In one you were a member of the royal family desperate to escape your responsibilities, in another you were an author, and in this one…he’s not quite sure what to make of you yet.

You were noticeably introspective, to the point that you often get lost in your thoughts. Blocking out any and every attempt to get your attention unless he is exceedingly persistent.

At first, this concerned him because he thought you weren’t interested in him. It felt like the ultimate rejection, and it hurt him deeply in way that he could only express in Lemurian.

But as you got to know each other you shared with him that you are diagnosed with ADHD. Which results in your inattentiveness.

Rafayel was relieved to have an explanation for this phenomenon and from that day he forms a new habit in response.

When you two are hanging out at his place, yours or in public he always carries a sketchbook with him. He never misses the opportunity to depict your visage when you are lost in the multitude of thoughts that race through your head.

Luckily for him, your mind wanders frequently when you’re together, and so far he has five sketchbooks filled entirely with your beautiful face. Some of the sketches are unfinished and others are completed with color, it just depends on when you come back to him.

Rafayel is always patient with you and never tries to “fix” you because you are his perfectly imperfect muse.

Caleb – impulsivity, daydreaming, hyperfixations

Caleb knows everything about you, from the various ways ADHD manifests in your daily life, to the fact that thunderstorms scare you.

He has witnessed your impulsiveness firsthand when it comes to jumping headfirst into danger. And although he’s seen it time and time again, it never makes it easy for him to bear. He feels overwhelmingly protective of you, he wants to hold you close and never let go. But he knows that you value your freedom and independence. So, he tries to dampen his controlling tendencies. At least the very obvious ones.

There are times when he has been mid-conversation with you, only for you to stop replying. And when he looks over, he can already tell that you’re lost in your own world. He takes this time to observe you with no repercussions. To really take you in, because you always berate him for his “creepy” staring otherwise.

And for completely selfish reasons he loves the fact that you’re currently hyperfixated on him since he’s returned from the dead. You may try to hide it, but he can tell that you’re absolutely obsessed with him. He thinks it’s sooooo cute how you blow up his phone, want to occupy all of his time when he is in Linkon and how you bombard him with question after question about what he got up to during his time away.

He knows that sometimes your hyperfixations don’t last long. But there are some you’ve held onto since you were kids. He secretly hopes that your hyperfixation on him lasts a lifetime, as wrong as that may be.

Although he feels a little guilty about enjoying it so much, he is in love with you. He wants no one else and it gives him a rush to know that you feel the same, in your own way.

Xavier – forgetfulness + daydreaming

Xavier has traversed time and space to find you again and keep you safe. He cherishes every moment he gets to spend like it was his last.

When he opens up to you, you feel comfortable enough to do the same. During your heart to hearts you share with him that you have ADHD. It affects your memory in a way that is hard to describe, but you settle on the description of “out of sight out a mind.” This combined with your tendency to get lost in your own thoughts has resulted in more than a few mishaps throughout your life.

Once Xavier is aware of this, he makes it his mission to always be by your side, so you don’t forget him. You try to explain that that would be impossible because he is such an important person to you and also your mission partner, but he is stubborn. Because to him, nothing could be worse than you, the light of his life, forgetting that he existed. Even for a brief moment.

When you lose track of time and almost miss an appointment, Xavier is there to teleport you to your destination.

When you almost miss work because you forgot to set your alarm for the 10th time in the past 2 weeks, he is gently nudging you awake.

He does not see your inattentiveness and forgetfulness as character flaws. They are just a part of what makes you uniquely you.

If Xavier has to serve as your personal planner and alarm clock sometimes, he doesn’t mind. Because you are the most important person to him.

Zayne – hyperfixation

Zayne has a sharp memory, so when you two meet again as adults he is already aware that you have ADHD tendencies. Now he sees you have an official diagnosis once he accesses your medical records for the first time.

He has a logical explanation for why you engage in the behaviors that others may find frustrating to deal with, like your almost unbreakable concentration when you are hyperfixated on something.

Your brain lacks dopamine, so you are naturally drawn to stimulating activities, which results in you locking in when a new activity, show, or topic captures your attention.

Zayne would never push medication used to manage ADHD on you, unless you expressed interest in them.

He would actively monitor you when you get into one of those hyper focused moods though. He would periodically bring you water, meals/snacks, snap you out of your trance for stretch breaks and urge you to sleep if you show no signs of winding down for the day.

IMO Zayne would be a very accommodating partner because he knows medically what’s going on and he would never get annoyed with you for chasing what fuels you.

But there is one stipulation, he wants to be by your side to make sure that you are properly caring for yourself. Because your health and wellbeing mean the world to him, as your doctor and your partner.

[slut4megantheestallion]

Arcane characters - what it's like to share a bed with them (Fluffy Headcannons)

Pairings - Vi, Mel, Jinx, Caitlyn, Sevika, Jayce, Viktor, ekko, silco.

Summary: what it's like to share a bed with them.

Genre:Fluff

-Vi

●Vi is a cuddler through and through. The second you're in bed, she's throwing an arm over you and pulling you close like you might disappear overnight.

●She sleeps deeply but has a habit of shifting around a lot, especially on rough nights when old memories resurface. She might tighten her grip on you in her sleep, mumbling something incoherent before settling down.

●Her body is warm, and she always runs a little hot, which is a blessing in colder months, but it might make you overheat in the summer. She doesn't mind if you push her away to cool off, but she will absolutely drag you back the second you stop sweating.

●"Babe, where do you think you're going? You're my teddy bear, 'member?" She mumbles, half-asleep, pulling you back against her chest.

●if you have trouble sleeping, she'll absentimindedly rub circles into your back, sometimes humming and old Zaunite tune she remembers from her childhood.

●Waking up next to her usually means lazy morning kisses and a smug grin as she stretches. "Sleep, okay? Sweetheart? 'Cause you snored like a bear." (She's lying, but she thinks it's funny.)

-Mel

●Sharing a bed with Mel is like sleeping next to a goddess draped in silk - she always smells faintly of jasmine and wears the softest, most elegant nightgowns. She's still a sleeper and barely moves throughout the night. The only time she shifts is if you're having trouble, in which case she'll reach out and run her hands through your arm soothingly.

●"Shh, love. Close your eyes. I'm right here," she whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

●Her bed is insanely luxurious, with the softest sheets and plush pillows. It feels like sleeping in a cloud, and she enjoys indulging in late-night talks while wrapped up in warmth.

●Mornings with Mel are slow and peaceful. She wakes up early, but she stays in bed longer if you're still asleep, watching you with a soft smile as she traces gentle patterns on your arm.

●If you wake up before her and try to leave, her arm will tighten around your waist. "Leaving already?" She murmurs, voice husky with sleep. "Stay a little longer..."

-Jinx

●Sleeping next to Jinx is chaotic but fun - she moves around a lot, talks in her sleep, and sometimes ends up sideways on the bed.

●"Hah! Gotcha!" She giggles in her sleep, suddenly flinging an arm over you like she just won a wrestling match.

●She doesn't necessarily need to cuddle, but she does like having you close. If you're not touching in some way, she'll grab your arm, your shirt- anything- just to feel you near.

●Some nights, when she's feeling restless, she'll start whispering nonsense or poke your cheek until you grumble at her. "Heeeey, ya awake? No? What if I.... boop!- Okay, okay, I'll stop!"

●She actually sleeps better when you play with her hair, and if you start stroking it, she'll instantly melt and snuggle into your side.

●Mornings? Absolute gremlin mode.

●"Ughhh, five more minutes, cupcake. No, ten. No,actually - just gimme the whole day."

-Caitlyn Kirraman

●Caitlyn sleeps with perfect posture - no tossing, no turning, just peaceful, controlled breathing, until you're in the bed.

●The moment you're there, she softens completely and instinctively pulls you close, resting her chin on top of your head.

●"Comfortable?" She murmurs sleepily, pressing a light kiss to your hair.

●She's the type to wake up early, but if she doesn't have immediate duties, she'll stay in bed a little longer, stroking your arm absentimindedly while enjoying the warmth.

●Love pillow talk at night. If you're both lying awake, she'll ask about your day, your thoughts, your dreams - anything to pull you into comfort.

●Her bed always smells fresh and immaculately clean, with crisp linens and just the right amount of fluff.

-Sevika

●Sharing a bed with sevika is like sleeping next to a human furnace - she radiates warmth and sleeps like a rock.

●She's not overly clingy, but if she's in a particularly protective mood, she'll hook an arm around your waist and keep you there like a personal pillow.

●"You move too much." She grumbles when you try to shift. "Relax."

●She's got a deep, steady heartbeat, and resting your head against her chest is enough to knock you out instantly.

●Sometimes, in the dead of night, if she wakes up and notices you're still awake, she'll rub your back absentimindedly, muttering, "Go to sleep, doll. I got you."

●Mornings are slow and lazy, and she usually pulls you back down if you try to get up too early. "Stay. too early to deal with people."

-Jayce

●Jayce is a big guy, which means big warm cuddles. You're basically trapped in a muscle cocoon all night.

●He snores lightly, but if you poke him, he'll mumble a half-asleep apology and shift to a quieter position.

●If you're cold, he immediately tucks you into his chest and rubs your arm to warm you up. "Damn, babe, you're freezing, C'mere."

●In the mornings, he grumbles like a bear but will wake up fast if you start playing with his hair. "Mmm... that's nice... wait, what time is it?"

-Viktor

●Viktor sleeps like a cat in a sunbeam- curled up, comfortable, and completely at peace once he finally drifts off.

●He often falls asleep mid-conversation, and you'll hear soft murmurs of unfinished thoughts as he dozes.

●If he wakes up and finds you cold, he'll drape his blanket over you without a second thought, even if it means he's left shivering.

●in the mornings, he's slow to rise, muttering in groggy confusion as he rubs his eyes. "... What time is it? No, too early... five more minutes."

-Ekko

●Ekko is a cuddle bug, no doubt about it. He loves wrapping himself around you, tangling your legs together like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"Mmm, you're comfy," He murmurs sleepily, nuzzling into your shoulder.

●If you have trouble sleeping, he'll start rambling about random stuff - stories from the Firelights, funny memories, or crazy theories - until you eventually doze off. He sometimes mumbles in his sleep, and you'll hear bits of phrases like, "No, don't touch that... ugh, dumbass..."

●Mornings are playful - he wakes up with a sleepy grin and tries to tickle you awake if you're being stubborn about getting up.

-Silco

●Sharing a bed with silco is surprisingly comfortable - he doesn't move much, but his presence is incredibly calming.

●He's a light sleeper and will wake up instantly if you seem distressed, rubbing soothing circles on your back without saying a word.

●He doesn't cuddle outright, but he always makes sure some part of him is touching you - whether it's an arm resting beside yourself or his hand loosely holding your fingers.

●if you try to get up too early, he'll softly murmur, "Stay," without even opening his eyes.

[stevishabitat]

And it happens with other non-media hyperfixations too. So you can, like, avoid all the media and still get sucked in.

I'll think, I should learn this thing. I'll probably be good at it, it's adjacent to other things I like. But when I try reading about it, it bores me to tears. All the king's horses and all the king's men could neither force me nor bribe me to learn that thing.

But then I think of some random question and go to Wikipedia just on a whim, and weeks later I have ten books out from the library, I've watched everything YouTube has to offer on the subject, and my Amazon wishlist is completely out of control with books and supplies for my new obsession.

WTF? Brain, why???

9/10 times I do not have time for a new hyperfixation and I should probably be focusing on work, and keeping house, and y'know... sleep.

But this random thing has hijacked my brain and all I can do is buckle up for the ride and hope at the end I'm not exhausted with a empty bank account and a house falling down around my ears with 15 projects started and never finished.

Me, when coming out of the hyperfixation void:

(I know this is autism creature and we're discussing a more adhd trait, but why could I not find adhd creature covered in blood??? Oh god... I have to make it myself don't I.....)

it's so wild to me that you absolutely cannot force a hyperfixation to happen. like you'll watch the most perfectly tailor-made-for-you content that everyone says you'll love and feel absolutely nothing, and then the thing you watch on a whim to fill time will reach through the screen and put its damn fingers in your brain and start rearranging the neurons right in front of you and every single time you're like THIS??? THIS??????? and this happens like every 6-12 months forever

[gooobraghhh]

I’ve successfully completely broken a mutual of mine and it has been so fun

I’ve talked about @the-kennel-keeper on here a few times but I think I really need to display the whole picture.

He started out like most of my followers, a puppy boy anon in my askbox that had a massive crush on me, but I had happened to follow his account along with like 10 others that were in the trans nsft tag when I first made this blog. He sent me an anonymous ask about realizing I followed him and how it got him so exited but he spam liked me like right before he sent it which made it exceedingly obvious who he was. That little pathetic mistake that was rip for being made fun of was the first thing that got me interested and his general tendency to accidentally humiliate himself or be easily tricked has remained extremely adorable. He finally dm’d me some message about how much he loves my blog since he wanted my direct attention and he did one of those ask games where one of the questions was like “who’s your tumbr crush?” and of course I asked him that one anonymously.

Surprise surprise he says me and at that point I’d sort of gathered too much dirt on him to let it go to waste and I really didn’t even try. We flirted, he talked about how he was only submissive in an extremely defiant, bratty way and how he basically can’t be tamed which just made him all the more alluring of a target for me. He did act like that for a while, but I built up to this perfect demeaning message where I revealed both of my little secrets on him and he just had no choice but to give in. The message ended with me telling him that I own him and I managed to get a “Yes ma’am” in response. He got so worked up that night that he finally got himself off after not being able to for months. I think that’s when I truly gained control over him.

Since then I’ve been slowly training him more and more. Learning exactly what gets him flustered and makes him tick. He started being more obedient, begging on command, singing my praises. A month or two later and the progress is undeniable. Hes cum for me a total of ~10 times (probably more than that, he couldn’t remember the exact number at first but I let him round down) 5 of which have been in the last 24 hours. He volunteered to send me audios of him jerking off and praising how good he’s been trained, he responds “yes ma’am” to basically every command I give him.

I know him so well that I can make him kind of shut down and give in from just a sentence or two of dirty talk. I mean I really pushed him today and yesterday and he couldn’t help but get himself off several times while recording it for me.

This man genuinely thought he was untamable, before talking to me he hadn’t even cum in months, but I’ve taken real good care of my new mutt. Thoroughly corrupted him into my perfect toy. Sometimes I even give him dirt on me just to give him a fighting chance but he’s so pathetic it doesn’t even matter. He’s had sex dreams about me and has chatted with me while around his friends, desperately trying to keep his composure.

So I’m starting a counter in my pinned of how many times he’s cum while thinking of me. It’s only fair I get to show off my hard work I think. We can all enjoy seeing how fucking pitifully submissive my mutt is.

And you can be jealous of him while that number ticks up because I know there’s a lot of you that’d kill to be in his position.

Exited to see how fast I can get keep the number increasing.

[maretinelli]

HYPNOTIZED BY YOU

Lando Norris X fem!reader

Summary: When Y/n makes a commercial for McLaren's new release, and her boyfriend is completely mesmerized by the video and his girlfriend.

Words: 2.2K+

Warnings: Suggestive words, Brazilian protagonist, mention of former pilot, clearly fictitious commercial, mention of famous Brazilian woman, provocations and suggestive ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. And of course, this idea is totally crazy hahaha and I also wanted to bring more Brazilian protagonists❤️🇧🇷

MASTERLIST

The initial silence is broken by the precise sound of high heels hitting the polished floor. The camera slowly pans down to reveal a woman’s silhouette walking confidently. The stiletto heel of her Saint Laurent shoes resonates in the room as she approaches a futuristic, luxurious McLaren car, the brand’s latest launch.

The camera pans up to reveal Y/n. Dressed in a black, tailored jumpsuit made of shiny fabric and modern cuts, she exudes power and elegance. Her hair is flawless, loose in waves, and sunglasses adorn her face. Without hesitation, she slides her hand over the shiny bodywork of the car and steps inside. Before closing the door, she turns to the camera, lowers her glasses slightly and winks. The car's engine purrs, and the scene cuts to black.

Now, the sound of new heels echoes through the same room, but this time in a different tone. The camera focuses on the feet of another woman walking with the same elegance, but with a classic touch. The thick heel of the boots and the discreet shine of the leather highlight Adriane Galisteu's class. As the camera moves up, we see her approaching a historic McLaren, the iconic model that Ayrton Senna drove on the streets of Monaco as a hobby off the track in the 90s. She is wearing an impeccable white outfit, with vintage cuts and a belt accentuating her waist.

The commercial cuts between scenes of Y/n driving the modern car through a tunnel lit by vibrant lights and Adriane at the wheel of the classic car, cruising down a deserted road, enveloped by an orange sunset. Both exude confidence and control, the past and future of McLaren represented in them.

At the climax of the video, Y/n and Adriane are leaning against their respective cars, side by side. Adriane looks at Y/n with a smirk and declares: "I am the past."

Then, Y/n turns to the camera and adds: "And me, the future."

Some might say it was a reference to boyfriends, and others would say it was about cars. But regardless of the situation, this would catch the attention of all audiences.

With a determined look, they both exchange keys, throwing them to each other in the air, catching them with precision. Then, Y/n walks over to the classic car, while Adriane heads over to the newer model. Before the screen goes black, the iconic McLaren logo appears, with both of their names below.

Lando left the McLaren meeting with his phone in hand, already swiping his finger across the screen, ready to check the latest updates. As soon as he opened Instagram, the team's commercial video appeared at the top of his feed, and he clicked on it without thinking twice.

The click of heels made his curiosity grow, and when the image revealed Y/n walking confidently up to the latest model McLaren, his eyes widened. The wink at the camera made his heart skip a beat, and he was so immersed that, qhen the video ended and the phrase "I am the past" - "And I am the future" echoed in his head, he almost dropped his cell phone on the floor.

"Holy shit..." He muttered, still staring at the screen.

Beside him, Oscar, who had been following his friend down the hallway, let out a laugh. "You look like a teenager watching his crush's video for the first time." He said with a laugh. "Breathe, Norris."

Lando frowned for a second, but he couldn't fight back. He knew his girlfriend had filmed a special commercial for McLaren and had even cheered her on when the invitation came, but he definitely wasn't prepared for this.

He spent the rest of the day watching the video over and over again, always finding a new detail to admire: the way Y/n smiled while driving, the elegant way she took off her glasses, the confidence in her gaze. At that moment, he concluded: this was, without a doubt, his favorite video of his life.

•••••••••••••••••••••••

Back at the apartment, Lando arrived earlier than usual. And what did he do? He threw himself on the couch, opened Instagram and watched the commercial for the thousandth time that day.

The phrase "And I the future" ran through his mind as he stared at the screen, admiring every detail of his girlfriend's charming smile.

He was so focused that he didn't even notice when the apartment door opened and Y/n entered.

"The weather was perfect for running!" She commented, taking off her headphones and tying her hair up tighter. "But I think it's going to rain in five minutes, so I decided to head back." She went straight to the kitchen, grabbing fruit and the blender to make a juice. "Lan? Honey, are you really home?" She asked absently, as she cut the fruit.

Lando, who was already standing and with a mischievous smile on his face, appeared in the kitchen with his cell phone in his hand. "Hey, honey, I'm home" He said, leaning against the counter.

Y/n looked up and smiled at him, but before she could continue the conversation, Lando held out his phone to her.

"Your commercial went on social media today. Have you seen it?"

Y/n's eyes lit up with excitement. "Really? Let me take a look!"

She wiped her hands and ran to his side. Lando smiled as he pressed play, even though he knew he had already memorized every second of the video. He wrapped an arm around her waist, stealing glances and watching his girlfriend's excited reaction.

As she watched, Y/n smiled and made spontaneous comments. "Wow, I was so nervous to direct this..." She mumbled at one point, chuckling softly.

When she got to the key exchange scene, she laughed out loud, "You have no idea how many times we messed that up! Either I threw the key on the floor or I hit Adriane!"

Lando watched her every reaction, fascinated, and with a silly smile on his face. But while Y/n just saw the commercial as a job well done, he saw something completely different: she was simply irresistible.

The video ended, but he remained still, processing everything once more.

Y/n, not noticing her boyfriend's state, went back to the other side of the counter and continued cutting the fruit. "Adriane was very nice! She calmed me down before we started recording and said it was normal to be nervous for such a big first job." She smiles, cutting a strawberry. "She told me a lot of funny stories about Senna too and we even agreed to meet for coffee when I go to Brazil to visit my family! I never imagined that one day I would meet her. She is simply incredible."

Lando listened to every word, but his mind was elsewhere. Leaning against the counter, he had a mischievous smile on his face and a mischievous look in his eyes,

There was Y/n, exuding naturalness and excitement, in gym clothes, her hair tied up and a light sheen of sweat on her skin. And he, on the other hand, all he could think about was how lucky he was to have such a hot girlfriend. Beautiful. Nice. And radiant.

And that left him completely mesmerized.

Lando sat on the high stool near the counter, his elbows resting on the surface while his phone scrolled endlessly through Tik Tok. He smiled to himself, delighted, as he watched the edits that fans had made of Y/n's commercial. Some had soundtracks that ranged from Brazilian funk to iconic international songs.

Y/n, oblivious, continued to speak excitedly.

One in particular caught his attention. The video began with a dramatic cut of Y/n smiling at the camera before getting into the car, accompanied by the chorus of Happy Nation. He opened the comments section, curious to see the audience's reaction.

'Who's luckier? Y/n for dating Lando or Lando for dating Y/n?'

'Senna, Prost, Hamilton... and now Y/n, the new McLaren legend.'

'I fell in love with this woman in 30 seconds.'

'I never wanted to be a McLaren car, until now.

Lando laughed out loud as he read that last one and shook his head. "These fans are crazy..." He muttered to himself, but deep down, he understood.

On the other side of the counter, Y/n was calm, drinking the natural juice she prepared, while she began to prepare a snack for the two of them. It was then that she noticed that the same song was playing repeatedly on Lando's cell phone. He looked at the screen with a silly smile, clearly glazed.

She arched an eyebrow, bringing the glass of juice to her mouth before casually blurting out, "You've already watched it before me, haven't you?"

Lando looked up from the screen and smiled, feigning innocence. "Why do you think that?"

Y/n rolled her eyes, giving a half smile. "The way you've been looking at me since I arrived. And that mischievous little smile of yours isn't fooling anyone."

Lando laughed. Okay, she got it. He slid the phone across the counter toward her. "Okay, okay. Check this out."

Y/n picked up the device and watched the edit. It was a short but well-produced video, bringing together several scenes from the commercial, alternating between her looks at the camera, the moment the keys were thrown and, of course, the famous phrase: 'I am the past.' - 'And I, the future.'

She laughed, but her cheeks flushed slightly. "Wow... That's really well done."

Lando, watching closely, noticed the way the color spread across her face and smiled. "Oh no, are you blushing? That's too cute."

She rolled her eyes and laughed, handing the phone back to him. "I just didn't expect it to be so popular. It was my first modeling job. I'm just... Y/n!! A Brazilian girl who works in an office in the UK and dates a Formula 1 driver."

Lando smiled and shook his head. "You were never 'just' Y/n. You're the love of my life!"

She laughed, looking away, but he continued to watch more videos, increasingly impressed by the creativity of his fans.

"Wow, you got too professional with this. I think I need an autograph now that my girlfriend has become a star."

Y/n laughed, throwing the bread wrapper at him. "If you want, I can teach you how to walk with style like in the commercial."

"Hmm..." Lando muttered, smiling mischievously.

Before she knew it, he had gotten up from the stool and walked around the counter, approaching silently until he was right behind her.

Y/n was still focused on her snack when she felt his hands on her waist and the heat of his body against her back. He slid the phone onto the counter and lowered his head, leaving a soft kiss on her neck.

She tried to remain normal, but her breath hitched for a second. "Lando..." She whispered, feeling goosebumps run down her skin.

The pilot smiled against her skin and leaned in a little closer, bringing his lips to her ear. "I think I like the real thing better..." He murmured, his voice low and slurred. "But I have to admit, seeing you drive like that was kind of...stimulating."

Y/n turned to face him, a mischievous smile dancing on her lips. "Exciting, huh?"

Lando nodded slowly, his gaze locked on hers. "Extremely!!"

The challenge in Y/n's eyes made him smile before he pulled her waist, pressing their bodies together, and kissed her.

The kiss started slowly, but soon intensified. It was hot, deep, full of desire and admiration. Lando's hands gripped her waist while Y/n's moved up to his hair, pulling lightly.

The seconds dragged on, each moment made the most of, until they parted slightly, their lips still almost touching as satisfied smiles formed on their faces.

"So... I guess you liked the commercial" Y/n joked, arching an eyebrow.

Lando chuckled, resting his forehead against hers. "I think I'm hypnotized by you."

The McLaren driver stole one more kiss from Y/n's lips before leaving her to finish preparing the snack, but made a mental note that those kisses needed to be continued later.

With a mischievous smile, he took two strawberries from the tray and handed one to his girlfriend. "I want to try to recreate that scene where you throw the keys to Galisteu" he said, holding the fruit between his fingers.

Y/n let out a laugh, catching the strawberry confidently. "You don't understand, Norris. I rehearsed that scene so much that I'm now an expert at throwing things in the air."

Lando arched an eyebrow in amusement and stepped back a little to make room. "Let's see, then. On three!"

He counted and at the same time, they threw the strawberries to each other. Y/n caught hers with ease, while Lando, despite being an F1 driver with sharp reflexes, fumbled a bit before finally catching the strawberry in mid-air.

"And look, you're an F1 driver" Y/n teased, laughing. "Improve those reflexes, handsome!"

Lando rolled his eyes, smiling, and returned the strawberry to the tray before leaning slightly toward her.

"I was nervous, you know? Having to catch a strawberry in mid-air while McLaren's newest star is right in front of me..."

Y/n laughed, rolling her eyes, and moved close enough to lightly hit his chest. "You're insufferable sometimes, you know that?"

Lando held her hand against his chest and smiled in a way that made Y/n's heart beat faster. "But you love me anyway."

Y/n let out a theatrical sigh, feigning surrender, and smiled. "Unfortunately for me... yes."

He laughed and before she could escape, he pulled her in for another kiss. This time, he was in no rush to finish.

Author: Damn, that was cool to write hahaha

[dumpywrites]

Ugh! - Jeon Jungkook

Prompt: “Aren’t we done?”

Prompt request: HERE

Genre/tags: Pure fluff, tsundere Jungkook?, exes that are so not done with each other lol

Pairing: Jungkook x she/her reader

a/n: I wrote this while picturing pouty and bratty Jungkook, so instead of simp Jungkook we ended up with somewhat of a tsundere one lol

It had been officially the first day of waking up being single again after not in seven months. Previously you had been single for a while too, so it was not like this was something new for you, it was just… odd. The wound was still fresh after all. 

Looking at the reflection in the mirror, the first thing you saw was your puffy eyes. You had been crying, bawling your eyes out to sad songs, basically putting alcohol to your freshly cut wound. Life must continue. Even if you were in the verge of losing your mind, you still had to wake up. 

It was your first (and apparently last?) big fight your now ex, Jungkook. You for one, never liked how the guy would doomscroll through tiktok and instagram for hours and hours and ignored you. Not only that, he ended up losing sleep too. Yes, you had your own fair share of consuming social media, same as everyone else, but you never let it disturb your health. Still, he never changed for the better, since the beginning you found out about it. 

So when one day you found out the guy was sent to hospital due to exhaustion, your first reaction was to be upset and pissed, instead of a more logical reaction. The fight ended up spiraling, branching into digging old unresolved frustration you had, worrying about his well being. Jungkook being a stubborn guy he was, turned full defense mode. Then the word was spoken. 

Everything had now led you to this exact moment, where you had to open your door to your ex in the morning, while looking like a complete mess. 

“Do you really need to come this early in the morning?!” You asked, annoyed. 

Jungkook was in his usual black oversized hoodie. You could see his beanie peeking through from underneath, it was in the same pitch black color. He looked like he didn’t even take a shower before showing up. Eye bags could be seen decorating his round doe eyes. 

“My PS5 is here.” He argued. 

“I can just mail it to you or something.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Well, I wanna play the new game I just got!” He walked past you, totally ignoring your scoff. 

“You can’t just do that.” You sighed, following him from the back. 

“You’re dramatic.” He said as he unplugged the console from your TV. 

You watched as he took the controllers and the cables and collected them all in his arms. “You need a bag with that?”

“No.” 

“Alright.”

Once he was done, man stood up as he somehow managed to grab everything in his hands. He looked like he was struggling, but you knew the man too well that he would never let you know about it. Your eyes fell on a few of video game CDs left on your drawer. 

“You sure that’s everything?” 

“Yeah.” He looked at you with a frown. 

“If you say so.” You eyed the games again and shook your head. Somehow refusing to say a thing. “That’s all?”

“Uh-huh.” He said, not moving from where he stood. 

“Then?”

“Then what???” The audacity of this man to sound offended. 

“Why aren’t you leaving?!” 

“Just making sure I didn’t leave anything.” He said and finally made his way to your door. 

There was a very faint hit of his fragrance came to you as he walked right past. You hated how your heart could betray you so quickly because it got you so worked up over the smell. 

You walked him to the door with words unspoken. You swore you saw him almost bending down, like he was gonna kiss you goodbye. It was probably a muscle memory, but he managed to stop himself before doing anything. 

“Bye.” He quickly said. 

“Bye, Jungkook.” You closed the door behind you, avoiding to spend any more second in his eyes. 

The first few days after breakup were supposed to be the hardest. At least that was what you heard from your friends. So, in order to distract yourself and to avoid spending your free time crying, you invited some of your friends to join you for a short karaoke session after work. 

“Explain to me why are you inviting us and why are you paying again?” Somi asked. 

“Jungkook just dumped her.” Mingyu snickered. 

Somi gasped. “I’m so sorry to hear that, are you okay?”

“I dumped him.” You glared at your other friend, correcting him. “I need a distraction.”

“Karaoke, is your idea of distraction?” Mingyu looked at you in disbelief. “Your ex literally has a whole karaoke bar in his house—“

“Shut it.” You put your hand over the guy’s lips, cutting his sentence short. “I can just go with Somi if you don’t want to.”

“Fine, I’m sorry!” The taller guy whined and followed you and Somi to the karaoke room.

Doing karaoke was fun, but it did not do any help. Every song seemed to constantly remind you of him, and you spent the whole two hours holding and containing yourself so it would not show. 

You decided to record an Instagram story. Deep down there was this tiny bit of hope on Jungkook seeing your story, since you didn’t block him and all. Maybe if he saw, he could see how you could have fun without him just fine. 

“I think I lost my voice…” Mingyu said as all of you exited the room. 

“No one asked you to sing three Adele songs in a row.” Somi laughed. 

“This is the first time I’ve ever heard you sing like that!” You laughed along with the girl. “Thanks for coming though, that was—.”

You were stunned upon seeing who was right in front of the entrance. Your boyf— ex, was walking back and forth, looking antsy. The extremely baggy t-shirt he wore was flowing due to the wind blowing outside, along with his hair. 

“Why are you here?” He asked, posing a dumbfounded expression. 

“That’s my line.” You folded your arms. 

“Can’t I go out with my friends?!” He rolled his eyes. 

“Jungkook, you have a karaoke room in your house.” You rolled your eyes. “Plus I don’t see anyone with you.”

“They’re not here yet.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Somi and Mingyu both eyed each other, seemingly holding their dying laughter. 

“Are you not gonna go inside?” You asked him. 

“Are you not gonna go away already?!” He retorted back.

Maybe you were being sensitive, but there was a slight pang in your chest, hearing him telling you to go away. 

“Jungkook my dude, I honestly thought you were brighter than this.” Mingyu chuckled, dragging you by your shoulder. “Come on miss girl, we are going home now.” 

Somi politely smiled at the guy before running to catch up with you and Mingyu. You glared at him one last time before turning your glance away. 

It was two in the morning that you heard your phone rang on a random Wednesday. You were barely awake and your room was dark enough that made it hard for you to see the caller name. But the heart and bunny emojis were a dead giveaway. You still had not changed his contact name.

“How do you insert back a hoodie drawstring?”

You looked at the hanging clock on the wall again after hearing that ridiculous question. “Do you know what time this is???”

“You borrowed this hoodie last time so maybe you ruined it.” 

“Jungkook, you can’t be serious right now.” You sighed. “That was like what, a month ago?!”

“Yeah, but I haven’t worn it since.” He retorted. 

“Can’t you just look up youtube tutorials or something? I can’t believe you called me just for this…” You complained. 

There was a short pause from the other line before he spoke again. “I’ve tried it, it’s still won’t go in. You fixed my other hoodie before too.”

You sighed again. Knowing the guy, you were sure he was pouting and looking miserable. “Hook a safety pin on one end of the string, that way you can easily slide it through the hole.”

“Alright, I’ll go get a safety pin.”

“Cool, I’m hanging up now.” 

“You’re not gonna wait until I’m done with it?”

“Do I have to?!” 

“Right.” His voice went low. “I’m sorry, thanks for picking up the call though.” He said before ending the call. 

Later on you spent the next hour fighting with yourself on whether you should text him just to ask if he managed to fix his hoodie or not. You ended up falling asleep before you actually send any chat bubble. 

Time passed and the next thing you knew, you were batshit drunk, asking for another shot at the bar with your already ruined makeup. 

You didn’t know why you decided to go drinking alone. Work was getting to you and all the pent up stress was just too much for you to bear for the day. At times like this you would usually call Jungkook, and man would show up at your doorstep no questions asked. No matter the time, he would always be ready to cheer you up. Now with him gone and him being the main reason you were miserable as well, alcohol was calling your name. 

As the bartender fixed you another shot, you took out your phone from the back pocket. Your vision was a bit blurry but you could still make up what was on the screen. There was an unread notification from Jungkook, blabbering about the games he left at your place and that he wanted to pick them up. 

Without much thinking you replied with, “Can’t. Too busy drinking my feelings away.” 

Not even thirty seconds later, a call rang. 

“Hello?” 

“Where even are you???” Jungkook asked. He sounded serious, the tone of his voice was laced with worries. 

“I’m at Joe’s.” You giggled, clearly not thinking straight. You were still sober enough to know what you were doing, but not enough for you to make a logical decision.

There was a long sigh from the other line. “I’ll pick you up.”

“N-No! Kookie— I mean—“ The call was already dead when you protested. 

Your rescue came just around ten to twelve minutes later. Your rescue came in a form of a beautiful man dressed in washed out grey hoodie, ripped jeans, fluffiest hair, who just happened to be your ex. He came to the bar and leaned over to ask the cashier about your order, paying for them. He sighed and turned to your direction again.  

He took you by the wrist. “Let’s go.”

You, undoubtedly still affected by alcohol, started to feel all kinds of things. Looking away, all you said was “No.” 

But you let him drag you from the seat, just silently holding your hand and guiding you to his car. 

The drive was silent and Jungkook didn’t even bother to turn the music player on. You avoided looking at his direction as best as you can, instead you tried to focus on fidgeting your own fingers.

“You sure you can manage on your own?” 

You only nodded. 

“I know I’m not one to talk but please take care of yourself. Don’t go drinking alone like this ever again.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No, don’t be.” He sighed, running fingers through his locks. “You sure you can go to your room alone?”

“Why did you come?”

Jungkook looked at you, as if you were speaking in foreign language. 

“Aren’t we done?”

Truthfully, you didn’t want him to leave. Seeing him this close all you wanted was to jump into his embrace and to never ever let go. But as drunk as you were, you were still confused, hurting even. He was so eager to say yes when you asked for a breakup. It just did not make any sense to you as to why he kept reappearing in your life, as if he never wanted to leave in the first place. 

“Kook, aren’t we done?” You repeated. 

“I don’t know.” He sighed. “Look, let me just help you inside.”

And so you let him grabbed you by your shoulder, helping you inside your apartment. He guided you to your couch and fetched a glass of water. You took a few sip of the water and leaned back against the sofa, closing your eyes due to the dizziness. 

“You good?”

You were not. How dare he, asking that question, knowing he was the main reason you were far from being okay in the first place. 

“No.” The alcohol in your system was making you honest. 

Jungkook looked hesitant, but he took a seat next to you. “Want me to stay?”

You couldn’t voice a respond, instead your thoughts wander at the video games that he left, still sitting prettily under the television, now seemingly forgotten yet again. You refused to say a thing. Somehow you hoped it would be his another excuse to keep contacting you. 

“I’ll help you change and then I’ll leave. Okay?”

You barely nodded. He grabbed you by your wrist and helped you to your room. Throughout your relationship you never really got drunk. That was why it when he helped you out of your clothes and gently changed it to a new one, even went for a cotton pad and a makeup remover (after looking for it for a solid five minutes) and helped cleaning your makeup, it made you fell in love with him all over again. 

He watched as you rested your head against your pillow, eyes barely opened. He looked around the room, finding something to do, anything. Anything just to keep him staying longer. 

“Thank you.” You said in an almost whisper. 

“Can I stay?” 

Your eyes widened just a bit but you couldn’t find yourself to refuse his offer. You nodded and hugged your plushie close. 

“I’ll help you change the bedsheets tomorrow.” He said as he joined you in bed next to you. 

He was hesitant at first, but ended up putting his arms over your waist. Both of you fell asleep with him resting his head on yours. The alcohol was definitely playing its part cause if you were sober, you knew you would just spend the rest of the night wide awake, heart bursting out from your chest. 

The morning came with a headache served next to it. The first thing you notice was a light snore, and the next quick seconds you noticed a tattooed arm draped around your body. Looking up all you saw was his long eyelash and his slightly ajar mouth that you wanted so badly to kiss. You did let Jungkook stay the night after all. 

Feeling your body shifting, the man spoke with his eyes still closed shut. “You awake?”

“Yeah.” You replied. “I need to go brush my teeth…” 

Instead Jungkook held you tighter. “Trust me, I’m insecure about my morning breath as well but give me a few more minutes.”

You didn’t say anything back, too afraid he could feel your heart beating rapidly, in which he most probably could. 

“Can I stay?” 

“What do you mean? You’re already here.” 

“No, I mean stay with you.” He finally opened his eyes, vision immediately towards you. “In our relationship…”

Your eyes widened.

“I’m sorry, I know I’m a stubborn person and I worry you a lot…” He sighed. “I’ll try my best to change, and for that I need you with me.” His arm moved to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. 

A tear unknowingly escaped your eye and you giggled. The whole seven months of dating him, you had never seen this side of him. Not even at the day he confessed his feelings for you. You never knew how he could be so… sweet. Even sweeter than what you were used to. 

“Hey, don’t cry! I’m sorry…” He swiped your tears with his thumb quickly. 

You responded by hugging him, burying your face on his chest. 

“Uh, so does this mean…?” The boy asked skeptically. 

“I miss you.” You said with voice muffled by the material of his t-shirt. 

A small chuckle left him and his body relaxed, hugging you back. “I miss you too, you have no idea.”

You smiled, pulling away slightly to look at him. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna forget about your games again.”

He smirked. “I knew I left them when I first took my playstation.”

“Then why didn’t you take them?!” 

“I was dragging this out as long as I possibly can.” He sheepishly smiled, cheeks turning pink. “Why do you think I was even at that karaoke bar that day?!”

“I knew that was fishy!” You laughed. “Aww, you really did miss me, huh?”

“Yup.” He squeezed you in a big hug and peppered your face with smooches. 

“Jungkook!” You giggled. 

He suddenly moved to being on your top and caged you in between his arms. An evil smirk visible on his lips. “Ready to see how much I miss you?”

Safe to say he made you stay on the bed just a few hours more. 

Thank you for reading! 🎮

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.4

Chapter Four: Everybody Wonders What It Would Be Like To Love You

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Bullying, Physicological Bullying, Mean Girls,

Word Count: 6.4k

A/N: Heads up, there’s a bully in this chapter but dw, you got Pedro on your side hehe. Again, this is all fictional. To any Cecilia’s out there in irl, no hate to you girl, I don’t even know you LOL.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: gold rush by Taylor Swift

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — MORNING  

The hum of set life surrounded you like a familiar melody—the rhythmic chatter of crew members, the distant clatter of equipment being adjusted, the occasional burst of laughter from someone off-camera. You moved through it all with ease, exchanging quick words with a fellow PA as you double-checked the last-minute details before call time.  

You didn’t notice him watching you.  

Pedro sat in the makeup chair, already in costume, his eyes drifting away from the mirror as Coco worked her hands through his hair. His body was still, but his mind was somewhere else. Or rather—on someone else.  

It was the way you tilted your head as someone from production rattled off instructions, your brows furrowing slightly in concentration. The way you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, nodding once before offering a soft, assured smile. You weren’t just hearing what they were saying—you were listening, absorbing every detail like you belonged here. Like you had always belonged.  

He felt something tighten in his chest.  

God, you made him feel strange.  

It was the words that stuck in his throat when you were near, the way his pulse stuttered for no damn reason. The way his thoughts—usually so steady, so controlled—felt unruly around you. It was dizzying. Unsettling.  

It had been a long time since he’d felt like this. Since he’d been caught so completely off guard by someone.  

And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from looking for you.  

In the crowd. In the moments between takes. In the quiet spaces where he thought maybe—just maybe—you were looking for him, too.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

Lunch break rolled around, bringing a much-needed lull in the day’s chaos. The crew scattered—some retreating to their trailers, others grabbing quick bites from catering, the energy shifting into something looser, more relaxed.  

Your phone buzzed just as you were sitting down at one of the outdoor tables, the screen lighting up with a message.  

Pedro: Wanna grab a bite later?  

You smiled to yourself, thumbs already moving across the screen.  

You: I do, but I kinda wanna hang with my friends for a bit too.  

His response came almost immediately.  

Pedro: Oh yeah, of course. Mind if I tag along?

You hesitated for half a second. Not because you didn’t want him there—but because you weren’t sure if he really wanted to be there.  

You: Are you sure? 

Pedro: Obviously.  

So that’s how Pedro Pascal ended up at lunch with you and your friends, settling into the group like he had always belonged there.  

He was easy to talk to, of course. He charmed his way through introductions, seamlessly jumping into conversations, laughing in all the right places, making everyone feel like they were the most interesting person in the room. But his attention always had a way of drifting back to you.  

The way you scrunched your nose as you tried to pick apart a joke someone had made. The way your eyes lit up as you talked about some old inside story with your friends. The way you were currently demolishing a cookie like it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.  

Pedro noticed.  

He didn’t say anything, but he noticed.  

His lips twitched as you took another enthusiastic bite, completely unaware of his amusement.  

There were other things, too—subtle things. The brush of his knee against yours under the table, lingering just a second longer than necessary. The way his fingers would graze your wrist when he leaned in to say something, as if testing the waters. The way his eyes would flick to your lips when you spoke before quickly darting away, as if he hadn’t meant to.  

And then, of course, there was the teasing.  

"Did you even taste that cookie, or did you just inhale it?" Pedro mused, finally breaking his silence, amusement lacing his voice.  

You swallowed the last bite, leveling him with a mock glare. "It’s really good."  

He smirked. "Clearly."  

"Don’t judge me."  

"Never." The word came softer than expected, a little too sincere for just teasing. His gaze held yours for a beat longer than necessary, something unreadable flickering behind his eyes.  

Your heart stuttered.  

He looked away first, but not before you caught the slightest hint of pink creeping up the tips of his ears. It was such a small thing—barely there, really—but you noticed. And it made something warm unfurl in your chest.  

The conversation around the table carried on, your friends swapping stories and teasing each other between bites of food. Pedro chimed in here and there, laughing along, but every now and then, you felt his gaze flick back to you.  

You were hyper-aware of him now. The way his arm rested casually on the back of your chair, not quite touching but close enough that you could feel his warmth. The way his fingers absentmindedly drummed against the table, his other hand occasionally brushing against yours as he reached for his drink.  

Then, he sighed, pulling his phone from his pocket, frowning slightly at the screen.  

"Ugh, my phone’s about to die."  

Without hesitation, you reached into your bag, pulling out your power bank and a charging cord. "Oh, no worries, here—use this."  

Pedro blinked, momentarily caught off guard.  

You handed it over without a second thought, already turning back to your food. But he didn’t move to plug his phone in right away. Instead, he just looked at you, something unreadable in his expression.  

His fingers brushed against yours as he took the charger, his touch lingering just a fraction longer than necessary.  

“You just carry this around with you?” he asked, his voice quieter now, something softer beneath the teasing edge.  

You shrugged, popping another bite of food into your mouth. “Yeah, of course. Never know when you might need it.”  

His lips quirked, but he didn’t say anything right away.  

Instead, he plugged in his phone, then glanced back at you, shaking his head slightly like he couldn’t quite believe you.  

"What?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.  

Pedro exhaled a small laugh, tucking the power bank into his lap like it was something precious. "Nothing. You’re just—" He paused, searching for the right word, before finally settling on, "—thoughtful."  

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flip.  

You swallowed, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. "It’s just a charger, Pedro."  

"Yeah," he murmured, still watching you. "I know."  

But his expression said something else entirely.

You weren’t sure what to do with that look—the quiet weight of his gaze, the way he seemed to be memorizing you like you were something worth studying. So, instead of dwelling on it, you reached into your bag and pulled out your notepad and pen.

Doodling had always been second nature to you. Something to keep your hands busy while your mind wandered. While your friends continued chatting, their voices washing over you in waves, you let your pen glide over the paper in absentminded strokes.

Pedro, however, wasn’t nearly as distracted.

From the corner of his eye, he watched, his attention flicking between you and the small spirals and shapes forming beneath your fingers. It was mesmerizing in a way he didn’t expect. The way your brow furrowed ever so slightly when you concentrated. The way your pen tapped softly against the pad before committing to a new line.

He shifted in his seat, subtly angling himself so he could get a better look.

It wasn’t just mindless scribbles.

You were sketching. Really sketching.

A rough outline of the restaurant table, the glasses, the crumpled napkins. And just beside that, the faint beginnings of a face—strong jaw, slightly furrowed brows, lips curved at the edges as if they were on the verge of a smirk.

His lips.

Pedro’s throat tightened.

"That me?" he asked, voice pitched just low enough for only you to hear.

Your pen paused mid-stroke, and you glanced up at him, caught. He wasn’t teasing, not really. If anything, there was something almost—fond—about the way he was looking at you.

You shrugged, offering a sheepish smile. "Maybe."

Pedro huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. "I didn’t know you could draw."

"It’s just something I do when I’m listening," you admitted, flipping the page like it was nothing.

But he didn’t think it was nothing.

He wanted to say something else, something lighthearted to keep you from looking so shy about it, but before he could, one of your friends called your name, pulling your attention away.

Pedro exhaled, leaning back in his seat, but his gaze lingered on you for a moment longer.

Thoughtful. Talented.

Yeah. He was absolutely in trouble.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — AFTERNOON

The shift in the air was subtle at first, almost imperceptible.

But you felt it.

It was the way certain conversations would quiet just as you approached. The way people who had once been warm and welcoming now exchanged knowing glances when they thought you weren’t looking. The way whispers followed in your wake, hushed giggles that felt anything but good-natured.

And at the center of it all was Cecilia.

She was the kind of woman people noticed when she walked into a room—stunning, sharp-witted, and utterly ruthless when it came to getting what she wanted.

And for whatever reason, she had decided that you were a problem.

At first, it was small things. A pointed look. A lingering smirk. A brush of her shoulder against yours as she passed by.

But then, it escalated.

"Did you hear?" one of her friends whispered just loud enough as you walked by. "She totally forced her way onto this project. Some kind of nepotism thing, I bet."

"Ugh, so cringe," another voice giggled. "She acts all sweet, but like, we know the truth."

You gritted your teeth, kept your head down, and moved along.

You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly what this was. Psychological warfare disguised as petty gossip. You’d seen it before, and you'd see it again.

The worst part?

You refused to let it get to you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

Pedro noticed.

It started with the way you brushed things off too quickly, like you were trying not to care. The way your usual smiles didn’t quite reach your eyes. The way your laugh—one of his new favorite sounds—had dulled just a fraction, too forced, too polite.

And Pedro wasn’t an idiot.

He saw the way Cecilia and her group slinked around set like vipers, the way their eyes always seemed to flick toward you before whispering behind manicured hands.

It pissed him off.

But when he asked about it, you just waved it away.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You shrugged, reaching for a prop clipboard. “Just tired. Long day.”

Pedro arched a brow. “Really? That’s it?”

“Yep.”

He studied you for a moment, then exhaled through his nose. “You’re a terrible liar.”

That made you scoff. “I am fine.”

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms, tilting his head slightly. “So, you’re totally cool with the whole… weird vibe around here lately?”

You hesitated. Just for a second.

It was enough.

“Pedro,” you sighed, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal. I don’t care what they think, okay? It’s just… you know how some people are. They get bored.”

“They get mean,” he corrected.

You frowned, looking away.

He softened, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “You don’t have to pretend it doesn’t suck.”

You swallowed, fingers tightening around the clipboard.

“It doesn’t suck,” you insisted. “Because I don’t care.”

Pedro’s stare was unwavering, but you held your ground.

Because if you admitted it did hurt—if you let yourself feel it—you weren’t sure you’d be able to stop.

And you weren’t going to let them win.

Pedro sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Fine. You don’t care," he murmured. "But if you ever do care… you’ll tell me, right?"

Something in your chest tightened at that.

You forced a small, teasing smile. “Wow, Pedro. That almost sounded like a serious conversation.”

He rolled his eyes but smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Don’t get used to it."

And just like that, the tension cracked, relief flickering behind his gaze.

For now, he’d let you pretend you were fine.

But he’d also be watching.

TWO DAYS BEFORE THE WEEKEND…

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — MORNING

The next two days were a slow, grating kind of miserable.

It started with small things—so small that if you weren’t paying attention, you might have convinced yourself they were nothing. The way conversations would quiet just as you walked past, the barely-concealed laughter from across the room, the occasional, suspiciously misplaced item that had definitely been right where you left it.

It was the kind of thing that chipped away at you in small, insidious ways.

Like the way Cecilia and her friends would conveniently stand right where you needed to go, their backs turned but their voices just loud enough.

“I swear, some people just don’t belong here.”

You’d walk past without reacting, even as the words burrowed under your skin.

Or the way your neatly organized stack of call sheets had been mysteriously scattered all over the breakroom counter when you came back from a coffee run. No one claimed responsibility, but Cecilia had walked by, tossing you a slow, syrupy-sweet, “Oops, was that important?” before sauntering off.

You clenched your jaw. Breathed through it.

Not worth it.

But then there were the more deliberate moments.

Like the wardrobe rack incident.

You had been helping move costumes between trailers when Cecilia and one of her friends conveniently brushed past, sending a precariously hung dress tumbling to the ground.

“Oh no,” Cecilia pouted, pressing a hand to her chest with mock concern. “You should really be more careful.”

You bent to pick it up, biting back the sharp retort on the tip of your tongue. The last thing you needed was to give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

Still, your fingers trembled slightly as you smoothed out the fabric and rehung it.

Then, there was lunch.

You had been balancing a plate of food in one hand, your phone in the other, when one of Cecilia’s friends accidentally knocked your elbow in passing.

It was a tiny movement. Just enough to send your fork clattering to the floor, just enough to make you hesitate—because was it intentional? Or were you just being paranoid?

“Careful,” the girl sing-songed over her shoulder, giggling as she caught up with Cecilia.

You let out a slow breath. Swallowed back the lump in your throat.

Not worth it.

So you kept your head up, kept moving, kept going. You told yourself that if you didn’t acknowledge it, if you pretended it didn’t exist, then it couldn’t touch you.

Right?

But it did.

Because by the time you got back to your trailer that night, you had to sit on the edge of your bed and press the heels of your hands into your eyes, breathing slow, measured breaths to keep yourself from crying.

Because it was working.

Because no matter how much you told yourself you were fine, no matter how much you smiled and laughed and acted unbothered, the cracks were starting to show.

You barely had a moment to yourself.  

Between running last-minute errands for production, keeping up with the crew’s rapid-fire instructions, and dodging the subtle but constant hostility radiating from Cecilia and her group, you were stretched thin.  

The exhaustion was creeping in—settling in the space between your ribs, behind your eyes, in the way your shoulders sat just a little tighter than usual.  

But you wouldn’t give them the satisfaction.  

So you pushed through, past the carefully calculated inconveniences. The way they always seemed to cut in front of you when you were in a hurry, the stolen side-eyes and smirks exchanged whenever you spoke in a group, the way your things somehow always ended up in different places than you’d left them.  

You pretended not to notice when Cecilia’s voice turned just a little too loud whenever she spoke to someone near you.  

"Oh my god, you know what I hate? When people think just anyone can belong in this industry. Like… babe, you’re only here because they needed extra hands. It’s cute, though."  

You told yourself not to react.  

Even when Daisy—who had been standing beside you, her grip tightening on her clipboard—made a noise that sounded a lot like she was about to launch herself across the room.  

“It’s whatever,” you had muttered, tugging her back before she could make a scene.  

Daisy had narrowed her eyes. “It’s not whatever. She’s being a bitch.”  

You had only sighed. “I know.”  

Omar wasn’t as easily convinced.  

The next morning, when you found him loitering near Cecilia’s usual coffee spot, arms crossed and expression unreadable, you had to physically drag him away before he did something stupid.  

“Do not get yourself in trouble over this.”  

“She’s messing with you,” he seethed. “I hate people like her.”  

“She’s not worth it,” you said, but even to your own ears, your voice sounded too thin, too tight.  

Omar wasn’t buying it. “Okay, but are you okay?”  

You hesitated. The truth was, you weren’t sure anymore.  

The worst part wasn’t the pettiness or the whispered insults—it was the fact that it was working. That somehow, in all the noise and nonsense, they had managed to make you feel small.  

But admitting that felt too much like defeat.  

So you forced a smile. “I’m fine.”  

Omar gave you a long, knowing look before muttering something under his breath and stalking off.  

That afternoon, as you sat on a bench outside the studio, your notebook balanced on your lap, you felt a shadow fall over you.  

“Hey,” Pedro’s voice was soft.  

You glanced up, startled. “Oh. Hey.”  

His brows knit together. “You okay?”  

You blinked. “What?”  

“You’ve been… different.” His voice was measured, careful. “Quieter.”  

You tried to play it off, shaking your head with a small laugh. “I’m just tired. Long shoot days, you know how it is.”  

Pedro didn’t look convinced.  

For a moment, he just stood there, watching you with that steady, unreadable gaze of his. Like he was sifting through the words you weren’t saying, trying to make sense of them.  

Then, without another word, he sat down beside you.  

Close enough that his arm brushed against yours.  

You tensed, just slightly, before exhaling.  

Neither of you spoke for a moment.  

Then—  

“Can I see?” he asked, nodding toward your notebook.  

You hesitated.  

It was just mindless doodles—tiny flowers curling around the corners of the pages, half-finished sketches of set pieces, a rough outline of something that might have been Pedro’s profile if you hadn’t abandoned it halfway through.  

You felt a little embarrassed, but you handed it to him anyway.  

Pedro flipped through the pages, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “These are really good.”  

You rolled your eyes. “They’re just sketches.”  

“Still,” he murmured, fingers skimming over the paper. “They’re yours.”  

There was something about the way he said it—soft, sincere—that made your stomach tighten.  

For the first time in two days, something in you eased.  

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.  

And when Pedro leaned in, just slightly, warmth radiating from his shoulder where it rested against yours, you didn’t move away.

Pedro was still flipping through your sketches when a sharp, saccharine voice cut through the air.  

“Oh wow, there you are, Pedro. I was wondering when you’d finally come up for air.”  

Cecilia.  

You felt your whole body go rigid.  

Pedro barely glanced up, his fingers still tracing one of your sketches absentmindedly. “Hey.” His voice was flat, distracted.  

She took a step closer, her presence invasive in a way that made your skin prickle. “I was just telling the others how dedicated you are to your work. You know, always finding ways to get into character.” Her gaze flicked toward you, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. “Even off set.”  

You swallowed hard.  

Your chest felt tight, exhaustion pressing against your ribs, making it harder to keep your expression neutral. You were already hanging by a thread, stretched too thin over the last two days, and Cecilia knew it.  

Pedro, still looking down at your notebook, gave a vague hum of acknowledgment, barely engaging. It wasn’t the reaction Cecilia had been hoping for, and you could see it. The way her expression twitched for half a second before smoothing over again.  

She tilted her head, the corners of her mouth curling. “It’s sweet, though. That you take the time to entertain people. I mean, it’s not like everyone gets that kind of attention from you.” She let out a light, airy laugh that made your stomach turn. “Guess it pays to be in the right place at the right time, huh?”  

The implication was clear.  

You clenched your jaw, willing yourself not to react.  

But then—  

“Cecilia,” Pedro’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it now. His fingers tapped against the notebook, his expression unreadable. “What are you doing?”  

Cecilia blinked, all faux innocence. “What do you mean?”  

Pedro finally lifted his head, and when he met her gaze, something in his expression shifted—something sharp, something distinctly unimpressed.  

“I mean, what are you doing?” His voice was just as smooth as before, but there was weight behind it now. “Because if you’re here to talk about the shoot, you should probably be talking to the crew.”  

Cecilia’s smile faltered.  

It was subtle, but you caught it.  

She opened her mouth, probably to smooth things over, but Pedro was already looking back at you, tilting the notebook toward you slightly, as if she weren’t even standing there.  

“You should finish this one,” he murmured, tapping his finger against the half-finished sketch of his profile. “It’s really good.”  

You could feel Cecilia’s eyes burning into you, but Pedro wasn’t giving her anything to work with.  

Her lips parted, like she might try again, but then she seemed to think better of it. Instead, she let out a small, sharp exhale through her nose, rolling her eyes as she turned on her heel and stalked off.  

The moment she was gone, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your hands gripping your notebook a little tighter.  

Pedro glanced over, brow furrowed. “You okay?”  

You nodded, even though your throat was tight. “I just…” A deep inhale. “I think I need a break.”  

Pedro studied you for a long moment. Then, without a word, he reached out, resting his hand over yours where it lay against the bench.  

Warm. Steady.  

Grounding.  

“Let’s take one, then,” he murmured.  

And for the first time in days, you let yourself lean into it.

The evening air was crisp, carrying the lingering scent of rain on the pavement as the last of the crew wrapped up for the day. You were exhausted, your body aching from hours on set, but when Pedro leaned in—voice low and warm—you felt something in you unwind.  

“Wanna grab dinner before heading back?”  

You blinked up at him, a little caught off guard. “Like… out-out?”  

His lips quirked into a small smile, hands slipping into the pockets of his jeans. “Yeah. Out-out.”  

You hesitated, glancing around as crew members bustled past, some already heading toward the shuttle van waiting to take everyone back to the hotel. “But, like… what if people see me with you?”  

Pedro gave you a look. “So?”  

“So… you’re you,” you gestured vaguely at him, “and I’m just—”  

He cut you off with a quiet scoff, shaking his head. “Nope. We’re not doing that again. You’re you. And I wanna have dinner with you. End of discussion.”  

The finality in his tone made your stomach flip.  

You bit your lip, then nodded. “…Okay.”  

Pedro’s face softened, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he bumped your shoulder lightly. “Good.”  

By the time you both made it to the shuttle van, most of the cast and crew were already piling in.  

Vanessa was the first to notice. She raised an eyebrow, a slow grin spreading across her face. “Ohhh, where are you two off to?”  

Before you could answer, Joseph leaned forward from his seat. “Are we witnessing a secret rendezvous?”  

Ebon chuckled, shaking his head. “A little late-night dinner date?”  

Coco, already buckled in, smirked knowingly. “Have funnnn,” she teased, dragging out the last syllable.  

You rolled your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. Pedro, for his part, was completely unfazed, flashing them an easy smile as he opened the door for you. “Don’t wait up,” he called, earning a chorus of laughter and whistles from the others as he shut it behind you.  

The restaurant wasn’t far—a quiet little spot tucked away from the main streets. The walk there was peaceful, the city buzzing around you but never pressing in too close.  

Pedro, dressed down in a hoodie, jeans, a baseball cap, and his glasses, was trying his best to blend in. But even like this, effortlessly casual, he still had a presence. He still walked like he took up space, like the world had to move around him.  

The height difference was almost comical. You felt it every time he turned his head down to look at you, every time his arm brushed against yours.  

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.  

You glanced up at him, caught off guard. “What?”  

Pedro gave you a look, one that made it clear he wasn’t buying whatever act you thought you were pulling. “Cecilia.”  

Your stomach twisted.  

You exhaled slowly, shaking your head. “It’s not a big deal.”  

Pedro stopped walking.  

You took two more steps before realizing, turning back to find him standing there, arms crossed, brows drawn together in frustration.  

He looked at you, really looked at you. “Of course, it’s a big deal,” he said, voice quieter now but firm. “If it’s hurting you, it’s a big deal.”  

You swallowed.  

The weight of his concern settled over you, warm and heavy. No one had ever really said that before. That what you were feeling mattered. That you weren’t just overreacting.  

Something in your chest cracked open, just a little.  

“…I just don’t want to make a thing out of it,” you admitted, voice small.  

Pedro’s features softened. He stepped closer, dipping his head slightly to meet your eyes. “You don’t have to,” he murmured. “But you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t bother you, either.”  

A lump formed in your throat.  

And then, just as easily as he had turned serious, he pulled back, tilting his head toward the restaurant. “C’mon. Food first, then we plot Cecilia’s demise.”  

A laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it.  

Pedro grinned, pleased with himself, before nudging your shoulder with his own.  

And as you walked the rest of the way, some of the weight on your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy anymore.

The restaurant was dimly lit, warm and intimate in a way that made the rest of the world feel far away. Soft jazz hummed through the air, mixing with the quiet murmur of conversation and the occasional clinking of glasses. The hostess greeted you both with a polite smile, barely sparing a glance at Pedro—either because she didn’t recognize him or, more likely, was being professional about it.  

Pedro let you choose the table, and you picked one near the window, a cozy little booth that felt tucked away from the rest of the diners. As you slid into your seat, Pedro pulled off his cap, running a hand through his messy curls before setting it down on the table.  

He looked… comfortable. Relaxed. And yet, there was still something unreadable in his expression as he watched you settle in.  

“You know,” he started, leaning forward on his elbows, “I’m kind of mad at you.”  

You blinked, caught off guard. “What? Why?”  

“Because,” he huffed, “I’ve been trying to get you alone for days, and the first time it actually happens, it’s because some Mean Girls knockoff has been making your life miserable.”  

You snorted. “So dramatic.”  

“I am dramatic,” he agreed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “But seriously. I don’t like that it took this for me to get to steal you away.”  

There was something in the way he said it—lighthearted, sure, but laced with something else. Something quieter. More honest.  

Your stomach flipped.  

Before you could figure out how to respond, the waiter appeared, handing over menus. Pedro thanked him with a charming smile before glancing back at you. “What are you in the mood for?”  

You shrugged, scanning the options. “Something warm.”  

Pedro hummed. “Soup?”  

“Maybe.”  

“Or,” he wiggled his eyebrows, “we get a huge plate of pasta and reenact Lady and the Tramp.”  

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Absolutely not.”  

Pedro placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Wow. That was a little too fast. Like you’ve thought about rejecting me before.”  

You bit your lip, trying to fight the smile threatening to break free. He made it so easy to forget the exhaustion pressing down on you, the weight of the last few days.  

The waiter came back, and you both placed your orders—him getting some kind of hearty stew, you settling on a creamy pasta dish. The conversation flowed as effortlessly as ever, touching on everything and nothing all at once.  

At some point, Pedro leaned back in his seat, stretching his legs out beneath the table. His knee brushed against yours, but he didn’t move away. Neither did you.  

“So.” His voice was softer now, less teasing. “Cecilia.”  

You sighed, slumping slightly. “Can we not?”  

“We can,” Pedro allowed. “But I still hate it.”  

You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, tracing the fabric between your fingers. “It’s not like she’s saying anything outright cruel. Just little things. Looks. Comments. Stuff that doesn’t sound like much but still…”  

Pedro’s jaw ticked. His fingers drummed absently against the table. “That’s how people like her work. They know how to make you feel like you’re imagining it.”  

You swallowed, looking down. “Yeah.”  

A beat of silence stretched between you. Then—  

“Do you want me to talk to her?”  

Your head snapped up. “What? No.”  

Pedro tilted his head, eyeing you. “Why not?”  

“Because,” you exhaled sharply, “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”  

His gaze softened, a flicker of something fond in his eyes. “I know you don’t. But I also know that you’re tired. And I hate seeing you like this.”  

Something in you wavered.  

Pedro sighed, rubbing a hand over his jaw. “I just—God, I don’t get it. How could anyone not adore you?”  

Your breath hitched.  

The words were so sincere, so effortless, like he wasn’t even trying to be charming—just saying what was in his heart.  

Heat crept up your neck. You looked away, focusing on the flickering candle in the middle of the table. “You’re biased.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m wrong.”  

You let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”  

Pedro grinned. “And yet, here you are. Having dinner with me.”  

“Unfortunately.”  

He clutched his chest in mock agony. “You wound me.”  

The waiter arrived with your food, and Pedro’s dramatic antics were temporarily forgotten as the delicious aroma filled the air. As you picked up your fork, he reached across the table, his fingers brushing against the back of your hand—just for a second, just long enough to send a small shiver up your spine.  

“Hey,” he murmured.  

You glanced up, and for the first time all day, you felt seen.  

“Don’t let her get to you,” Pedro said, voice gentle but firm. “You’re worth so much more than whatever bullshit she’s trying to pull.”  

Something tightened in your chest.  

You swallowed, nodding. “Okay.”  

Pedro studied you for a moment, then smiled. “Good.”  

The weight on your shoulders didn’t disappear entirely, but it softened, melted into something manageable under the glow of candlelight and Pedro’s unwavering attention. You let yourself relax, let yourself exist in this small, intimate moment where it was just the two of you, where the laughter was easy and the warmth between you was something real, something steady.  

Pedro caught your gaze mid-conversation, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in just slightly. “There she is.”  

You blinked, tilting your head. “What?”  

“That smile,” he said simply. “Haven’t seen it in a while.”  

Heat bloomed in your chest, warm and unfamiliar, something delicate but deep. You rolled your eyes, but it lacked any real bite. “You’re ridiculous.”  

“And yet,” Pedro teased, mirroring your words from earlier, “here you are.”  

You shook your head, lips twitching. “Unfortunate, really.”  

Pedro pressed a dramatic hand to his chest. “Wow. First, I get turned down for Lady and the Tramp, and now this? My ego is in shambles.”  

You laughed, a real, unguarded sound, and he grinned like that was exactly what he was hoping for.  

The conversation stretched long into the night, ebbing and flowing between playful teasing and quiet sincerity. The kind of talk that felt effortless, that felt safe.  

Somewhere between the last bites of food and the soft hum of the restaurant around you, Pedro reached across the table, his fingers skimming yours. The touch was featherlight, a quiet question rather than a demand. You could have pulled away.  

But you didn’t.  

Instead, you let your fingers curl around his, grounding, steady.  

Pedro didn’t say anything—he just squeezed your hand, a silent promise, and you squeezed back.  

Outside, the night air was crisp, carrying the distant sounds of the city with it. The restaurant door shut softly behind you, leaving you and Pedro standing beneath the glow of streetlights, his cap pulled low, his glasses perched on his nose.  

It should have felt different—stepping back into reality after the small bubble of warmth inside the restaurant. But somehow, it didn’t.  

Pedro rocked back on his heels, hands tucked into his pockets. “Still okay?”  

You exhaled, watching as your breath curled into the night air. “Yeah,” you admitted, surprising yourself. “I think I am.”  

Pedro studied you for a beat, then nodded, satisfied.

It turns out Vanessa, Coco, Joseph and Ebon got dinner somewhere else in town away from the two of you and they were waiting already in the shuttle and as soon as you both stepped inside, the teasing started. “Ohhh, look who finally decided to show up,” Vanessa sang, kicking her feet up on the seat in front of her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

Joseph smirked from his spot by the window, arms crossed over his chest. “How romantic was it, really? Scale of one to ten?”

Coco grinned. “I’m betting solid eight.” Ebon scoffed. “Nah, Pedro’s smooth—at least a nine.” Pedro sighed dramatically, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You guys seriously have nothing better to do?” Vanessa waved a hand. “Nope. Now spill.” You rolled your eyes, buckling your seatbelt as the van pulled away from the curb. “We ate dinner. Like normal people. And then we walked outside. Like normal people.” Coco squinted. “That’s exactly what someone who did kiss would say.” Pedro groaned, leaning his head back against the seat, while you fought the smile tugging at your lips. Joseph held out his hands. “Okay, okay, let’s be serious for a second. Was it cute at least?” You blinked at him. “Was what cute?” “The date—” “It wasn’t a date,” you and Pedro said at the same time. A pause.

Then Vanessa gasped, clutching her chest. “You’re already finishing each other’s sentences?” “Oh my God,” Pedro mumbled under his breath. The laughter rolled through the van, easy and infectious, and despite the relentless teasing, despite the way your face burned under their knowing looks, you couldn’t help but feel… good.

The knot in your chest—the one that had been coiled so tight these past few days—had loosened. Maybe not completely, but enough that breathing didn’t feel so hard. Pedro shifted beside you, turning his head so only you could hear him. “They’re never gonna let this go.” You sighed. “Yeah. I figured.” His shoulder brushed yours, a quiet reassurance, and when he spoke again, there was something soft in his voice. “You sure you’re okay?” You hesitated. Because truthfully, the weight of the past few days still sat heavy on your shoulders. Cecilia had made sure of that. The quiet digs, the passive-aggressive comments, the knowing smirks—it was a kind of exhaustion that seeped into your bones. But right now, in the warmth of this moment, with Pedro looking at you like he actually cared about the answer, you found yourself saying— “I think I will be.” Pedro studied you for a beat, then nodded, satisfied. It was a small thing—just a simple gesture, barely more than a shift of his head. But somehow, it carried more weight than it should have, like he was silently saying I see you. I hear you. You swallowed. It was nice to have a friend. But then—was that all this was? You glanced at him again, at the way he was sat with you so easily, like he’d always been meant to be there. At the way he felt beside you, like a quiet anchor in the storm of the last few days.

End Notes:

I told you there would be drama O_O

Again, no hate to any girlie named Cecilia, everyone calm.

Don’t worry girlies… it will turn out fine, mostly… I think… ��\_(ツ)_/¯

YA'LL SEEN THE TEASER TRAILER!?!?!? IM UNWELL AND DYING AND SO EXCITED AND I WANT TO MELT AND DIE VANESSA KIRBY YOU LUCKY WOMAN I WANNA KISS HIM TOO T^T

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @klajmekk @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy

[taylorman2274]

Today Is Where Your Book Begins (Chapter I)

With the final chapter having concluded, the entirety of Teyvat has come to realize that everything in their life has been one massive storybook. Now they have broken free from their predetermined endings and wish to write their own story. While some remain content with their lives, others recall the reader of their story offering them many a helping hand in the past, and wish for them to witness their future.

Content Warning(s): An Attempt was Made to Guess Genshin Impact's Ending as of Version 5.3.

Notes: SAGAU, GN!Reader, Aether!Traveler, Lumine!Sibling

Word Count: 1k

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

Genshin Impact's story is over.

...Well to be more precise, the Teyvat arc of Genshin Impact's story is over.

The Traveler, Aether, was finally able to reunite with their sibling, Lumine; and after a long heart-to-heart conversation, they were able to hug it out in the end. To be honest, it left you a bit teary-eyed.

Now, nearly all of the playable (and yet-to-be-released) characters were gathered in an undisclosed location with Aether, Lumine, and Paimon taking center stage.

The crowd was cheering, whooping, and hollering. They praised the Traveler for all of his deeds, for he had become their hero from another world. He had spared them all from their predetermined fate.

Soon enough, a 'Speech! Speech! Speech!' chant began to grow from the crowd. You couldn't help yourself but join along with the chant as well. Aether could only chuckle and scratch the back of his head, a subtle blush forming on his cheeks. Eventually, he urged the crowd to quiet down and began to give an endearing speech.

The speech was truly one of the best things that the Genshin writing team had ever conjured up, and that was saying something! It involved a lot of heart-touching tributes, nostalgic memories, and kindhearted thanks to many of their friends.

Aether thanked the people from the eight nations for accepting them into their capital city. He thanked the Archons for helping them learn more about Teyvat as a whole. He thanked Paimon for being the best guide in the whole world. He thanked Lumine for finally coming back to him.

"...And thank you, Benefactor from Beyond the Stars, for bestowing upon me the strength needed to complete my journey. I hope that fate allows us to meet in the future."

...

...?

'Benefactor from Beyond the Stars?' you questioned yourself. 'Are they talking about me? I don't know anyone else who would fit that description.'

As the game let you gain control of your character and gave you the rewards for completing the Archon Quest, more thoughts continued to rummage in your mind. This chaotic mess that was your brain continued to clutter your mind until only a single thought was left more prominent than the rest.

...

'Holy shit Genshin just made me canon.'

...

...

...

'Probably one of my greatest achievements to be honest.'

Looking at the time, you see that it's approaching midnight. Given that your day tomorrow is packed to the brim with various tasks and activities, you decide to log off and get some sleep.

"Alright, Genshin," you spoke to your computer with a fond gaze. "It was fun while it lasted. Y'all have fun without me."

You exited the game, closed the launcher, and shut off your computer.

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

"You don't know what you have until it's gone."

Aether has heard this quote many times before, but he's never liked it that much. He's always known what he's had:

Lumine.

Lumine is everything to Aether just as Aether is to Lumine. That's how it has always been throughout their lives. They were inseparable up until their encounter with the Unknown God. How can you not know something inseparable from you?

It wasn't until recently that Aether heard another version of this quote that seemed to align with his perspective better.

"Appreciate what you have before time makes you appreciate what you had."

500 years had come and gone before the two siblings were able to reunite again. They are always constantly worried for each other, that something fatal might happen to them, permanently separating the two forever.

But they don't need to worry about that anymore. They are finally back together.

All thanks to Paimon. All thanks to the seven Archons. All thanks to their many friends across Teyvat.

...

All thanks to their one friend not from Teyvat.

The Benefactor from Beyond the Stars.

Although Aether was aware of them since that fated day on the beach underneath Stormbearer Point, he was powerless to push them away without his former strength.

At first, he was afraid. He could not control any part of his body. Not when he was only a puppet in the eyes of this being.

He hated not being in control. It reminded him of what it felt like to be weak.

Next, he became curious, the being didn't seem to wish him harm. Instead, it appeared as if the being was wishing him to succeed. Slowly but steadily, the being helped him regain his former strength. All the while not asking for anything in return.

'What could they possibly want from me?' Aether pondered.

Then, he became content. Eventually, he began to learn the being's tendencies when fighting and what they wanted to expect out of him. They became two minds in one body, flawlessly traversing the environment and slaying any opponents that stood in their path.

This feeling of always knowing somebody's got your back. Somebody who is on your power level and can match your fighting prowess.

...They haven't had this feeling since they lost Lumine.

Then, he understood. Teyvat is a storybook. The ley lines are the words on the page. The people are characters. Their destinies are just endings written down by the Primordial One, the author. They have never had a choice in their lifetime. Everything has followed according to the words on the pages time and time again.

This being, the one who has been with them since the beginning of their journey, is a reader.

A reader who wishes to change the storybook so that its ending is incomplete. That way, the people within the book will be able to write as many pages of their own destiny as they want until they sign off on their own ending.

When Alice first told them this, he and Paimon were more shocked than they had ever been before. This was the secret that the Hexenzirkel had been secretly guarding throughout their entire existence?

It was honestly hard to believe.

Nevertheless, he is extremely thankful to the reader for helping him throughout his journey. Just as he is towards Paimon and their friends across Teyvat.

In all honesty, words may not be enough to describe how thankful he is. Paimon and all of his friends can probably see that.

So when he decided to thank the Benefactor from Beyond the Stars during his speech, knowing that they were present.

"I hope that fate allows us to meet in the future."

He absolutely meant it when he said that.

They deserve to be rewarded for their hard work; And by the Archons is he going to find a way meet them.

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

Author's Notes: Ta-da! A new series has arrived!

I hope that the way I've portrayed Teyvat was easy to understand, it's unlike anything that's been written in the SAGAU fandom to my knowledge.

I'll be going back through this over the next couple of days for any errors or misspellings I may have written. Probably gonna be a bunch of POV mistakes. But otherwise, I hope you enjoy the first chapter of this new series!

[servantofthefates]

My house is alive. And I do not mean figuratively.

I mean it has a mind of its own. 

My house is mine. I designed the layout, I watched it get built, I decorated it. From the size of the front door to the paint color palette… from the fabric of the sofa to the style of the photo frames… everything was my decision. It’s as mine as mine gets.

So the moment I introduced myself to it, it started talking back.

We have a courtyard full of trees and plants, so there’s a healthy amount of bugs outside, which sometimes get in when the front door is open. I hate that. I hate that very much.

So I told my house to never let those intruders in. The next day, without having to spray anything, I saw several dead bugs on the floor. I swept them up. And never again did I see anything flying or crawling around the house.

Another time, I had a plumbing issue. My bidet wouldn’t stop running, and the bathtub wouldn’t drain completely. 

I told my house how much I hate having to let maintenance workers in, because they often leave a mess, which I have to spend hours sanitizing afterwards. I asked my house if it could help me avoid this somehow.

In just about five seconds, the bidet stopped running, and the bathtub fully drained.

Over the holidays, a relative came over for dinner. Having eaten so much, she felt sluggish and asked if she could sleep over. Now I don’t really like this relative. I included her in the guest list as an act of Christmas kindness, but sleeping over? That’s too much.

While I was thinking of how to reject her request, the power went out. And the moment she left the gate, the electricity came back on. I asked the neighbors about it later on, and they said their power was on the whole night.

Another time, I lost the remote control to my living room air conditioner. Which was impossible. It’s always in the same place, and I was alone that whole time.

While looking for it everywhere, I ended up opening a drawer I never use. In it I found white mold, which likely developed during the few months I lived abroad, leaving that part of the house susceptible to humidity. I’ve since taken care of the problem.

Right after I discovered the mold, I found the missing remote control right there on top of my coffee table. Where it always is. Where I couldn’t have missed it.

My house is one of those things that make me what I am — a traditional witch, despite how modern my life is. It reminds me that even though my ancestors wouldn’t recognize many parts of my craft, I remain their child. Their blood is within me, ready to awake when required.

[beesandwasps]

Wow, it’s rare for a Democrat to simultaenously show all three of the reasons why Democrats are wrong in a single post, but you’ve managed it:

Ignoring the fact that the Democrats did not merely “uphold the law” but actively made things worse by, e.g., building Cop Cities and new ICE detention centers and dramatically increasing fossil fuel production and continually having protestors beaten up in cities they govern — your party is functionally the same as the Republicans, just less abrasive and a little slower in implementing things. Right now, a majority of Senate Democrats are voting to confirm Trump’s cabinet choices which people like you keep swearing are the most dangerous people possible — if the Democrats were not just Republicans with better PR, this would not happen.

Saying out loud that you value process and law over ethics and morality. Oh, Trump is a Nazi, but it’s a good thing to hand over control to him? How fucking imbecilic can you get, you worthless piece of shit? The original German Nazis were able to take over their country because of people like you, and the Democratic unwillingness to actually stand against modern Nazis is why people didn’t bother to vote for them. What was the difference when, for 12 of the previous 16 years, the Democrats let the Republicans control everything even when they were in a complete minority in every branch of government (as in 2009-2010)?

Blaming third-party voters for the Democratic Party’s inability to make a reasonable case for themselves. I really wish Harris had lost because of third-party voters! It would signal that a significant portion of the US public has spines and morals! But, much though I hate to say it, there isn’t a single state which went to Trump in 2024 where, if every single third-party voter including the Libertarians (who would, if forced to choose between the two major parties, vote Republican) had voted for Harris, she would have won the state. Your party lost its voters to the Republicans, and they did it by mimicking Republican rhetoric: anti-immigration, pro-genocide, pro-fossil-fuel, even anti-trans at the end. If your idiot party is going to spend its campaign telling everybody they’re just like the Republicans, why would you ever find it surprising that voters would vote for actual Republicans? If you want people to vote for Democrats, you need to give them reasons why Democrats will do things differently. If Democrats are just going to be the Lite Beer version of Republicans, why would anybody ever choose to support them?

Why are they so fucking dumb. Does this mean we’ll at least get in new deal in 2040?

[sirhamburrger]

worth it - m. kaiser x f!reader in which you decide to give it another shot with with each other.

tags/cw: exes to lovers, crack (see original req ask) || wc: 1k-ish (i have gone insane)

courtesy of kai’s cat café! - 150 followers event café menu || order progress asks closed.

michael kaiser is convinced his life is 100% a joke. there’s no other explanation for why he’s currently sitting in a dimly lit, overpriced restaurant, waiting for a blind date that his best friend, ness, had insisted he go on.

it'll be fun, ness had said. you haven't dated since her, so just give it a shot.

michael doesn’t do blind dates, doesn’t do serious relationships, and he certainly doesn’t do surprises - which is precisely why he’d refused ness’s ridiculous proposition at first. but between his friend’s relentless nagging and his own begrudging admission that his love life had the excitement of a damp sock, he had caved eventually.

and now, as he swirls the wine in his glass like some kind of brooding movie villain, he wonders if this is the universe’s idea of a cruel prank.

because the person who just walked through the restaurant doors - the person he's meant to be on a blind date with - is none other than you.

michael nearly chokes on his drink at the first glimpse he gets of you. you don’t see him at first, distracted as you scan the restaurant, looking for whoever your own meddling friend had set you up with. when your eyes land on him, your entire body stiffens, and he watches as you cycle through the five stages of grief in record time.

he knows exactly what you're thinking, because he’s thinking the exact same -

out of all the people in the world, why you?

your relationship had ended on less-than-great terms. there had been yelling, multiple dramatic exits and even more dramatic re-entrances, and at one point, if he recalls correctly, a very unnecessary but satisfyingly cinematic slow clap. it had been over a year since the breakup, and though time was supposed to heal all wounds, he wasn’t sure if it applied to two people as ridiculously petty as the both of you.

you take a deep breath and approach the table, walking like someone being led to their inevitable doom. “this is a joke, right?” you say, pulling out the chair with a familiar enthusiasm - the enthusiasm with which one might do the dishes, maybe.

michael leans back in his chair, trying to appear nonchalant even though he’s nothing but. you look good, infuriatingly so.

“trust me, if i were trying to pull a prank, it’d be something a lot more elaborate than this.”

you sigh, shoulders slumping. “so, what? our friends thought it would be hilarious to set us up?”

“looks that way.”

silence stretches between you, heavy with the weight of tense, withering stares and poor life choices, and michael, for all his arrogance, finds himself at a rare loss for words. he should say something clever, maybe. something that would put him back in control of this bizarre situation. instead, he blurts out, “you look... less mad than i expected.”

you blink. “i just got here. give it a minute.”

a beat of silence. then, against all odds, you both snort at the same time.

somehow, you make it through the meal without either of you throwing your drinks in the other’s face. the conversation starts awkward, progresses to dangerous levels of sarcastic, and before long, you’re both swapping old inside jokes, complete with exaggerated impressions of each other. by the time dessert arrives, you’re laughing so hard you nearly snort crème brûlée out of your nose.

reality seems to hit the two of you, then, turning the sweetness of the custard bitter on your tongues.

you poke at your half-eaten dessert with your fork, your voice quieter when you finally speak again.

“do you ever wonder if we could’ve done things differently?”

he pauses, fork halfway to his mouth. he should brush it off, throw out some cocky remark. but instead, he casts his pride aside, sets his fork down and meets your gaze.

“yeah,” he admits. “i do.”

you nod as if you expected that answer. “at least we know our friends are absolutely useless.”

he scoffs. “truly the worst.”

the check arrives, and the night reaches its fated conclusion. you both step outside, the cool air nipping at your skin. for a moment, neither of you move, standing there like two characters in a sitcom finale that never got renewed.

finally, you exhale, pulling your coat tighter. “well. goodbye, kaiser.”

something in his chest tightens at the way you say it. he forces a smirk, shoving his hands into his pockets. “see you around, liebling.”

you roll your eyes at the old pet name but don’t comment. instead, you turn and walk away, down the block. the night seems to swallow you up in seconds.

he watches you go, exhaling. he should turn around and walk the other way. should go home, pretend this night never happened.

but then, just as you reach the corner, you stop.

you hesitate.

and then, as if it takes every ounce of courage you have, you turn back around.

“kaiser.”

he’s already moving before you say anything else, crossing the distance between you with the same reckless abandon he’s always had. you open your mouth, maybe to say something witty, maybe to say nothing at all, but he doesn’t give you the chance.

because before he can overthink it, before either of you can change your minds, he cups your face in his hands and kisses you.

it’s not perfect. it’s a little clumsy, and more a little desperate. but when you kiss him back, fingers tangling in the fabric of his jacket, he swears it might be the best decision he’s made in a long, long time. and when you finally pull away, breathless and a little stunned, you stare at him like you can’t quite believe what just happened.

michael grins, cocky and familiar and maybe just a little hopeful.

“so,” he murmurs, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “think our friends would find it hilarious if we gave this another shot?”

you laugh, shaking your head. “they’d be insufferable.”

he hums, tilting his head. “worth it, though?”

you pretend to consider it, but you both already know the answer.

“yeah,” you whisper, smiling giddily. “worth it.”

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[baekhyunsbestie]

⟢ : N 2 DEEP !?

BABY THAT P*SSY WAS

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ SO WORTH THE WAIT!

I WASN'T IN LOVE WITH

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ NONE OF THEM ANYWAY!

★ had a req for virgin!reader and another for baekhyun's pov n i thot???? why not wake my ovulation demon up by combining the two!!! experienced!baekhyun talking virgin!reader through it??? uh, yeaaaaah, sign me tf up 🫦

★ content: 18+/mdni. 3.4k+ words. baekhyun’s pov. baekhyun x virgin f!reader. ex-playboy!baekhyun. yandere!baekhyun. pet names: baby, angel, sweetheart, etc. also calls you his good girl <3333333 literally just pwp!! fingering + oral (fem receiving). virginity loss. p in v. breeding kink. bulge kink. creampies (baek's got breeder balls). overstimulation. raw juseyoooooo <3

i used to be a different man.

selfish. reckless. untouchable.

i lived for the chase, for the thrill, for the fleeting satisfaction of a conquest already won before the game even began. the night always ended the same—someone pressed against me, lips searching, hands wandering, desperate to be the one i wouldn’t forget.

but i always forgot.

because none of it mattered.

i had everything—looks, charm, a reputation that did all the work for me. doors opened before i even knocked. women sought me out, fingers grazing my skin before i could learn their names, their lips curving into coy smiles as they whispered empty promises in my ear.

they wanted to be wanted.

they wanted to tame me.

and for a while, i let them believe it was possible. let them think they were different, let them pretend they meant something.

but they never did.

because i never stayed.

i played the game, flashing lazy smirks, murmuring all the right words at all the right moments. i gave just enough to keep them coming back, just enough to make them believe there was something real buried underneath it all.

but there wasn’t.

love was just a pretty lie people told themselves so they wouldn’t feel alone.

then she came along.

the first girl who didn’t look at me like i was something to win. the first girl to look at me like i was an actual fucking person.

she was different from the moment i met her—poised, careful, untouchable in a way that made my fingers itch with the need to unravel her.

she didn’t lean in when i spoke. didn’t soften under the weight of my gaze. didn’t lower her walls just because i smiled at her.

she wasn’t impressed.

and fuck, that made me want her more.

but she was cautious. too cautious.

when i stepped closer, she took a step back. when i spoke, she met my eyes but kept her distance. she wasn’t rude—she was polite, measured, controlled in a way that told me she had already heard the stories.

she knew who i was.

what i was.

and she wanted nothing to do with me.

i should have walked away. found someone easier. someone who wouldn’t make my chest ache with frustration and longing.

but i couldn’t.

i wanted her. no—i needed her.

for the first time in my life, i chased.

and god, i chased hard.

i stopped looking at other women, stopped entertaining the attention that used to thrill me. stopped indulging in meaningless touches, in flirtation that never led anywhere real.

none of it mattered.

not if it wasn’t her.

so i waited.

for months, i played the long game. carefully. intentionally. i let her set the pace, let her keep her distance, let her watch me until she was ready to believe that i meant it.

and when she finally did—when she finally let me in—

i fell.

harder. deeper. completely.

and now, when she looks up at me with those wide, trusting eyes, her body trembling beneath mine, offering me the one thing she’s never given anyone else, i know—

she’s mine.

there’s no walking away now. no pretending this is something casual, something temporary.

because this? this is everything.

she is everything.

her skin is warm beneath my lips, trembling ever so slightly as i kiss my way down her body. every little shiver, every breathy sigh—i drink them in, savor them. she’s so sensitive, so responsive, it makes my stomach tighten with something primal, something possessive.

she doesn’t even know.

doesn’t know what she does to me, how long i’ve been waiting, craving, aching for this moment. she’s stretched out beneath me, bare, untouched, soft in a way that makes my teeth grind and my blood run hot. she’s mine, even if she doesn’t understand it yet.

her hands fist the sheets, her chest rising and falling in shaky, uneven breaths. she’s nervous. i can feel the tension in her thighs, the way her body trembles slightly under my touch.

“baby,” i murmur, smoothing my hands down her sides, slow and careful, feeling the way her stomach flutters beneath my touch. “are you sure?”

she nods, but i see the hesitation flickering in her gaze, the uncertainty in the way she swallows hard, like she’s trying to work up the courage to say it out loud.

so i guide her.

i catch her chin between my fingers, tilting her face up, forcing her to look at me.

“tell me,” i say softly, my thumb brushing along the curve of her jaw.

her lips part, but no words come out.

“sweetheart,” i whisper, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, my voice gentle, firm, steady. “if you’re not ready, we don’t have to—”

“i am.”

her voice is quiet but certain, her fingers tightening around my arms like she’s afraid i might pull away.

“i want to do this. with you. i want you, baekhyun.”

fuck.

i exhale slowly, pressing my forehead against hers, breathing her in.

“i’ve waited so long for you,” i murmur, tracing my fingers over her collarbone, watching the way her pulse flutters beneath my touch.

she exhales shakily, hands sliding up my chest, warm and tentative.

“yeah? for how long?”

“since the first night i met you.”

her breath catches. “b-but i—”

“hah, i know,” i chuckle, cutting her off, my lips ghosting over hers. “you didn’t want anything to do with me, huh?”

she swallows, looking guilty, but i kiss her before she can apologize.

“you were right to be cautious,” i murmur against her lips. “but i changed for you, sweetheart. i waited for you. i’d do it again if it meant i could have you like this. all to myself.”

her hands cup my face, her thumbs brushing over my cheekbones, and for a moment, she just looks at me.

searching.

memorizing.

and i let her see everything.

the devotion.

the patience.

the undeniable, unshakable truth that she belongs to me now.

she trusts me.

and i'll fucking die before i break that trust.

so when i spread her open, pressing my lips between her thighs, i take my time.

i let her feel every slow, deliberate touch, every lingering kiss, every whispered praise.

she’s already trembling, body pliant under my hands, her thighs twitching where they frame my shoulders. warm, soft, dripping for me, waiting. she doesn’t even realize how far gone she is, how much i’ve unraveled her already.

“so fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart—so fuckin’ sweet,” i murmur, voice thick, heavy with heat. my tongue flicks against her, teasing, coaxing, savoring.

a sharp gasp escapes her lips, her fingers tangling in my hair, trying to push me closer, trying to pull me away—she doesn’t know what she wants anymore.

i groan into her, drunk on the slick coating my lips, my chin, my fingers. “shh,” i soothe, pressing a soft kiss to her inner thigh, holding her down as she squirms beneath me. “just relax, love. lemme take care of you.”

she’s still trembling when i slide a finger inside her, feeling her tense, feeling the way her walls clutch around me, untested and impossibly tight.

“breathe, angel,” i whisper, my free hand smoothing over her stomach, pressing down lightly, making her feel every motion, every stretch. “you’re doing so well.”

she whimpers, a broken sound, her hands fisting the sheets. overwhelmed. drowning.

“hey,” i murmur, my tone firm, commanding, anchoring her. “look at me, baby.”

her eyes find mine, wide, unfocused, wrecked.

“ya feel that?” i breathe, curling my fingers just right, stroking that spot that has her back arching off the bed. she lets out a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around my head. “that's how you’re gonna feel when i fuck ya full of my cock.”

she trembles, gripping at my arms, teetering on the edge, fighting the stretch but craving more.

i press another kiss to her clit before pulling back, watching her.

she looks ruined—flushed, panting, trembling, her lips swollen from biting them too hard.

and i haven’t even started.

“want you to count for me, angel,” i instruct, pressing my fingers deeper inside her, twisting them just enough to make her whine.

“h-huh?”

i smirk, dragging my tongue up her slit, flicking against her clit before pulling back. “every time you cum, i want ya to count. think ya can do that for me?”

she nods, but i grip her thigh, making her gasp.

“words, baby.”

“y-yes,” she stutters, already breathless. “i can.”

“that’s my good girl,” i praise, before sealing my mouth over her again, sucking her clit into the heat of my tongue.

she thrashes, moaning, pulling at my hair as i work her open, fucking her with my fingers, curling just right, coaxing, dragging, pulling her under.

“baek—i—oh my god—fuck!” her words dissolve into broken sobs, her body tensing, her orgasm slamming into her, making her shake apart beneath me.

“one,” i murmur against her soaked skin, kissing her clit as she writhes.

but i don’t stop.

i don’t give her time to recover before i press my tongue against her again, relentless, insatiable.

“too much—” she chokes out, but her body betrays her, hips grinding into my face, chasing more.

“mm, mm, baby,” i groan, fucking my fingers into her deeper, letting her feel it, letting her drown in it. “’m not stoppin’ ‘til i hear ya count again.”

she sobs, her thighs trembling, but she can’t resist me, can’t fight the way i make her feel, can’t stop the next wave from crashing over her.

“t-two,” she gasps, barely a whisper.

i smirk, dragging my tongue slow and deep over her folds.

“good girl. now gimme another.”

i pull her back in, take her apart again, and again, and again.

by the time she hits four, she’s shaking so hard she can barely breathe, her voice breaking on my name, her body helpless, pliant, wrecked beneath me.

i finally pull back, wiping my chin with the back of my hand, watching her struggle to open her eyes, her chest heaving, her skin flushed all over.

“you okay, angel?” i murmur, brushing her damp hair back from her face.

she barely manages a nod, eyes glazed, lips parted, her body still twitching from the aftershocks.

i hover over her, pressing soft kisses along her jaw, her temple, her lips—reassuring her, grounding her.

“you did so well,” i praise, kissing her softly, gently, letting her feel just how much i adore her.

but then i press my cock against her entrance, dragging the thick head through the mess i made of her.

“now,” i whisper, voice dark with intent. i let the tip of my cock drag through the slick mess between her thighs, teasing her, pressing against her entrance but not pushing in yet. her breath stutters, her hips instinctively rolling up, chasing friction.

so desperate already. so easy to ruin.

“let’s see if ya can count for me again.”

her eyes flutter open, glazed over, unfocused. her lips are swollen, bruised, parted as she pants, barely catching her breath from how i’ve already wrung her out. but she’s still hungry for more. she’s still gripping at my arms, still trembling beneath me, waiting for me to give it to her.

“this is the part where you tell me if you want to stop,” i murmur, even though i already know she won’t.

she doesn’t hesitate.

“i don’t want you to stop.”

mine.

fucking mine.

the second i push in, i know i’m fucked.

not just in the way i’m used to—not in that fleeting, skin-deep, feel-good-for-a-moment kind of way. this is different. she is different. and the way she’s clenching around me, the way she’s looking at me like i’m the only person in the world—i’m done for.

i’ve had plenty before. too many to count. never cared to remember. i’ve fucked for the sake of fucking, for release, for the thrill of it. but this? this isn’t just sex. this is something i need. something i’ll never be able to forget, even if i wanted to.

she’s so tight, so warm, gripping me like she was made for me, and the thought alone nearly sends me over the edge. no one’s ever felt like this before. no one’s ever been like this before.

i watch her face, see every little change—the way her brows pinch, her lips part, her breath stutters. i know it’s her first time, and fuck, the thought of being the first and only makes something primal claw at my insides. i have to breathe through it, force myself to stay in control, because all i want to do is claim. mark her, ruin her, make sure she never forgets this either.

“you okay?” i rasp, voice rough, strained. i don’t even realize how hard i’m gripping her hips until i see the way my fingers dig into her skin.

she nods, lips trembling just slightly. “y-yeah. i’m good, baby. it’s okay, keep going.”

i press in deeper, slow, deliberate, letting her feel every inch. her nails bite into my arms, her thighs tense around me, and fuck, she’s taking me so well. too well. i can’t think straight. i can’t fucking breathe.

“so fuckin’ perfect,” i murmur, my forehead dropping against hers. my heart’s hammering in my chest, my pulse racing, but it’s not just from how good she feels—it’s her. it’s the way she looks at me, the way she trusts me, the way i know—i know—i can never go back after this.

she gasps, her nails digging into my back, legs wrapping around me to hold me there, like she needs me to fill every inch of her.

i kiss her temple, soothing her even as she clenches around me, whispering into her skin.

“breathe, baby,” i murmur, stroking her hair back, kissing her cheek, her jaw. “you’re doing so well. it’s okay. you can let me in.”

i go slow.

soft kisses. whispered encouragement. steady hands keeping her safe.

when i bottom out, when she takes all of me, i groan against her lips, my arms tightening around her.

“baekhyun,” she whispers, voice trembling, wrecked, drowning in me. “y'feel so—hah—so good.”

“oh, yeah? so do you, baby,” i breathe, rolling my hips, slow but deliberate, savoring the way she clenches down on me. fuck, she’s tight—gummy walls hugging my cock, gripping me like a fucking vice. like she doesn’t want to let me go.

like she couldn’t even if she tried.

it’s taking everything in me not to lose it, not to fuck her too hard, not to fill her up right here and now.

“you’re mine, baby,” i murmur against her lips, voice thick with need. i slide a hand up, cradling her cheek, my thumb tracing her lips. “you’re doing so well.”

her breath stutters, breaking into a moan as she tries to adjust, fingers dragging down my back, pressing her nails into my skin. she’s trusting me, giving me everything.

“that’s it,” i praise, voice soft but firm, kissing her temple, the corner of her mouth, anywhere i can reach.

when she starts moving with me, when she stops fighting it, stops trying to hold herself back—

i reward her.

“so, so good for me,” i murmur, kissing her deep, swallowing her little cries as i thrust into her, rolling my hips slow, deep. “so fuckin’ perfect, baby. taking me so well.”

her legs tighten around me, heels digging into my lower back, pulling me in, keeping me there.

“god, i fuckin' love you,” i rasp, the confession slipping past my lips, raw and unfiltered.

she whimpers, pulling me closer, chest to chest, breath mingling with mine.

“i love you, too, baby,” she gasps, voice shaking, wrecked.

then—

“hah—sh-shit, baek. you’re s-so big,” she whimpers, head tilting back. “i can feel you right here.”

her trembling hand presses against her lower stomach.

and i see it.

the thick outline of my cock bulging through, stretching her open, proof of how fucking deep i am.

and it fucking breaks me.

“holy shit—” i groan, something primal snapping inside me as my hips snap forward, pounding into her, fucking her harder, rougher.

her cry is sharp, breathless, her fingers curling into the sheets as she takes it, lets me chase my release, lets me ruin her.

“nngghh—fuck, baby,” i pant, dropping my head to her shoulder, my teeth grazing her skin before biting down, leaving a deep mark against her collarbone. “gonna fuckin’ cum—gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

i spill inside her, my body locking up as i empty myself, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep into her.

but i don’t stop.

my cock is still throbbing, still rock-hard, still buried deep inside her, and she flinches when i pull back just enough to thrust in again.

“b-baekhyun—i can’t!” she gasps, nails digging into my arms, her body shaking from how sensitive she is.

i groan, grinding deeper, my forehead dropping against hers.

“shh, baby,” i whisper, pressing kisses to her cheek, her jaw, her swollen lips. “you can take it. i know ya can.”

she whimpers, body arching into mine, her walls fluttering around me, already on the verge of another orgasm.

“ya feel that, baby?” i rasp, pressing my palm over her stomach, feeling myself inside her. “that’s all me.”

i shift, angling my hips just right, and she cries out, her head tilting back, her throat exposed, body trembling beneath me. her nails rake down my arms, dragging over my back, leaving angry red lines in their wake. marking me. claiming me. and fuck, it only fuels me.

makes me want to give her more.

makes me want to fuck her so good she doesn’t just feel me now, but tomorrow. for days.

her back arches off the bed, hips lifting to meet every deep, controlled thrust, chasing it, needing it. and i give it to her, steady and deliberate, my cock pulsing inside her, my body working hers open all over again.

“gonna fill ya up again, sweetheart,” i groan, voice hoarse, raw with hunger. “gonna take care of you. you want that, right?”

“yes, baek! fuck—wanna milk you dry. wanna have your babies,” she moans, her voice breaking against my lips, her legs tightening around me, keeping me locked in, keeping me buried so deep i can barely think straight.

and fuck—hearing her say it, hearing how filthy she sounds, how much she wants this, wants me—it nearly unravels me right there.

i could cum from that alone.

but i want to cum with her this time.

want to fuck it back into her while she arches her back, while she moans against my lips like she’s singing for me, like every sound she makes is meant for me and me only.

“that’s it, baby,” i whisper, my lips brushing over hers, coaxing, guiding, leading her exactly where i want her. “just let go. let me have you.”

and she does.

she falls apart beneath me, her body tensing, her walls fluttering, squeezing me tight—too tight—like she’s trying to pull me deeper, drag me under with her. her moans crack into sobs, her thighs trembling as the pleasure overtakes her completely, raw and overwhelming.

“f-five,” she gasps, the word barely leaving her lips, her body still wracked with aftershocks.

but i’m not done.

i grip her thighs, pushing them up, pressing them against her chest, folding her into a mating press, my body caging hers in.

her breath catches.

her eyes go wide.

she’s already sensitive, already on the edge of breaking all over again.

“one more, baby,” i rasp, grinding into her, rolling my hips slow, deep, making sure she feels every thick inch of me pressing into her, filling her to the brim.

she whimpers, fingers clawing at my forearms like she’s holding on for dear life.

“can ya do that for me?” i murmur, kissing her lips, her cheek, her throat. “one more, love. i know ya can.”

she nods frantically, lost in it, lost in me, in the stretch, the heat, the overwhelming pressure of it all.

“words, sweetheart,” i remind her, pushing in deeper, making her sob.

“y-yes,” she cries, voice shaking, already on the brink. “i can—i can—”

her body locks up, every muscle tightening as she clenches down around me, hard, her whole frame trembling, her moans dissolving into desperate, breathless cries as she cums again—one last time.

and when i feel her tip over the edge, when i feel her walls tighten around me like she’s trying to take every last drop—

i don’t hold back.

“shit—” i groan, my hips snapping forward, burying myself to the hilt, grinding deep as i spill inside her, filling her up just like i promised.

hot, thick ropes of my release coat her walls, my cock pulsing with every shuddering breath, every sharp inhale, my body trembling from the sheer force of it.

but i don’t move right away.

i let her feel it. feel me.

feel the way i stretch her full, how i keep her stuffed, plugged up, making sure not a single drop escapes—like her body was made to take me, to keep me.

she’s still trembling, still pulsing around me, her breath coming in soft, uneven pants as the aftershocks ripple through her. i stay inside, refusing to pull away, letting her feel every inch of me even as her body melts into the mattress, boneless, ruined, perfect.

i press lazy kisses to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth—soft, slow, reverent.

“mine,” i murmur, voice thick with possession, my fingers threading through her damp hair, smoothing it back. i stroke gentle patterns into her skin, grounding her, anchoring her to me as she drifts, her lashes fluttering, lips parted, body completely spent.

“always,” i whisper, sealing my promise with one last kiss.

˗ˏˋ ꒰ a/n ꒱ ˎˊ˗ i think this helped me get me outta my lil writing slump :') hope u guys like it n got pregnant from it!!! i know i sure as hell did!! ​but also???? writing in his pov was soooo much fun omg!!!! made me wish i had a dick omg i’d b unstoppable 😭 as always, lmk what u think hehe 💗💖💗💞🩷💝💘💝💗

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* masterlist ° ᡣ𐭩 . 

[hobbitkiller]

Pretending “oil and water” was just about Cait and Vi is very conveniently leaving out a huge chunk of the dialogue. “Topside and bottom, oil and water, that’s all there is. I was stupid to think it could be any different.” That statement wasn’t at all about personality clashes or different goals, because the two of them were very firmly on the same page there. It was about Vi thinking it would never work because topside and bottom could never work. That is simply the text.

You also seem willfully ignorant to what foreshadowing is. Obviously, the point of Jayce and Silco’s conversation wasn’t fighting the Noxians, but there’s a deliberate reason they planted that idea there at that time—also, why do you think the show introduced Ambessa in the first season? How odd to add this new character in so late. It’s almost as though she was being set up to be the big bad in season two or something.

Where did you think the show was going with the hex core? Did you think that was just some random bit of character development for Victor? Did you not catch on to Heimdinger’s apocalyptic predictions of doom?

If you want to say a common enemy is cheap, fine. But it was well set up that the show was going in that direction because of the decisions the characters made that took them to the point where the only way there could be peace was to defeat these common enemies they helped create.

In the quotes you used, they talk about an alien invasion—something completely external. That’s not what happened in Arcane. The danger from Noxus and Victor were the consequences of these characters and societies engaging in a cycle of violence. Ambessa would not have been able to take control if Jinx hadn’t attacked the council and Piltover hadn’t wanted vengeance. Victor would not have been driven to his actions if it were not for his despair at the state of humanity.

The show is called Arcane. It was always going to be about magic. Again, it’s a pretty typical story structure to start grounded and then get more grandiose throughout. You also have to take into account that they were working from source material, so, yeah, Ekko’s time looping ability was going to show up. Victor was going to become the machine herald. The show is based on a video game and you’re somehow surprised the climax was a big battle.

That said, no, it’s not like Age of Ultron, because the battle wasn’t just cool fighting and slow motion group shots. It was Vi and Jinx teaming up—important character moments; Jayce getting through to Victor and their love for each other, platonic or otherwise, saving the day; and the face off between Ambessa, Cait, and Mel—consequences of the choices Ambessa and Caitlyn made. They also took time to show us the regular people who ended up suffering for the mistakes of our characters.

Finally, a show shouldn’t have to explicitly spell out things for an educated audience to understand it. Maybe you would have preferred an epilogue with a montage of what exactly was done other than giving Sevika a seat on the council. Personally, I would find that obnoxious and unnecessary. I prefer it to be unsettled and unresolved because, as crazy as that sounds in this science fiction show, that is more realistic.

As I’ve said elsewhere, the plot of Arcane wasn’t Piltover versus Zaun. The class conflict was a background conflict that informed the characters and the decisions they made. The show was about how the characters become who they are and overcome the cycles that created them. The Piltover/Zaun conflict, and indeed the Noxian conflict and the Arcane conflict exist to serve the development of the characters, not the other way around.

“What happened to rebel Vi? Season 2 destroyed her character!”

“What happened to rebel Vi” is that Vander took her to the bridge where her parents died in his revolution and asked her what she was willing to lose. Then she meets Cait who is gentle and kind while still being tough and it makes her rethink how she sees topside. When Jinx tells her she changed too, that’s what she’s talking about.

I’m sorry if you thought Vi was going to be a topside-hating revolutionary in Season 2, but that’s clearly not where her character arc was going. Remember how she forced her way between Ekko and Cait? It seemed very straightforward that was the role her character was taking on.

I feel similar about people who act like the show was betraying its premise because it ended with reconciliation/Zaun and Piltover working together. Again, the fact that two of the most important relationships were between characters from both sides and that they made a point of talking about Zaun and Piltover first coming together against a common enemy was a pretty clear indicator that was the plan.

Now, I get being annoyed that that was what they chose to do. You don’t have to love the creative decisions of media, just like media doesn’t have to compromise its creative direction to satisfy you. But not liking that they went that direction is not the same as the show having bad writing or engaging in character assassination.

Everything Vi did in season 2 was very much in character with how she changed and who she became throughout Season 1. Hell, she used enforcers and Hextech to raid Shimmer facilities before Commander Kiramman ever threw on a beret. So, yes, actually wearing the uniform was a huge and complicated decision that she was definitely not happy about, but it also fell in line with what she had been doing.

There’s meat for another post at some point about the three different Zaun/enforcer partnerships we see in the show: Vander/Greyson, Silco/Marcus, and Cait/Vi; but I’m not going to go into that now.

TLDR: “Rebel Vi” who wants to fight all of topside hasn’t existed since the end of the second episode of the show.

Editing to add that Vi doesn’t see attacking Chem Barons as attacking Zaun; she’s taking down the people who are destroying Zaun.

[yunholic-jongholic]

From Tension to Tenderness | J.YH x Reader

SUMMARY | You have been trying to get Yunho's attention all day, but he keeps promising you one more round or five more minutes on his game. It’s bad enough you are wearing his hoodie and you and Yunho have a big fight. A bit later, Yunho feels bad about their previous treatment of you and tries to make amends. This, somehow, ends up with soft, gentle make up sex.

PAIRINGS | Yunho x Fem!Reader

RATING | Mature, 18+, NSFW, MDNI!!!

CONTENT WARNINGS | One Shot, Some Fighting/Arguing, NSFW, Smut, Make Up Sex, Fingering, Praise Kink, Hand Kink, Breast-play, Unprotected Sex (Don't do that.), Creampie. Drug-Use-Mentioning, Alcoholism-Mentioning (I might miss some, not sure... Sorry if I did!)

WORD COUNT | 2.2k

AUTHOR NOTE | Screaming, Crying, Throwing Up. Y'ALL I FOR REAL FELT LIGHTHEADED WRITING THIS ONE. ANYWAYS FINALLY A YUNHO STORY!!! I AM SO SORRY for being this late lmao. I struggled with wanting to make a Yunho story but every topic I kept finding I found for other members more. lol Anyways, hope you enjoy my fellow hotteok sister wives!

•

Yunho was sprawled on the couch in the living room, fully immersed in his video game. Meanwhile, you were in the bedroom, getting dressed after a refreshing shower. As you glanced around, you noticed his hoodie crumpled on the floor. Picking it up, you brushed off a bit of dust, the fabric still warm from his body. Without thinking much, you slipped it on, the faint scent of him lingering, a comforting reminder that he’d just worn it moments ago before diving into his game. You went to the living room and sat beside him watching him play his game.

"Hey," you said softly with a gentle smile, not really expecting a response since he was completely locked into his game. You moved closer, the familiar sounds of the game filling the room, and gently rested your head on his shoulder. The warmth of his presence and the steady rhythm of his breathing brought a comforting sense of calm as you relaxed beside him, content just to be near him.

"Yunho..." you hummed softly, your voice laced with a hint of neediness as you sought his attention. He glanced at you briefly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips but didn’t respond. Determined, you scooted closer, nuzzling into the curve of his neck, your voice dropping to a gentle whisper. "Can you take a break? I want to cuddle with you."

He let out a small sigh, fingers still moving swiftly on the controller. "Just one more round, we’re almost done. Don’t worry, I’ll be yours in five minutes," he replied, eyes glued to the screen. You let out an exaggerated whine, clearly unimpressed with his usual excuse. "That’s always your response..." you pouted, crossing your arms dramatically.

You took his half-hearted apology as a sign that he was done and ready to give you, his attention. Without hesitation, you gently reached out, turning his face towards yours, and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his lips. For a brief moment, Yunho melted into the kiss, his lips responding warmly to yours.

But just as you thought you had won, he pulled back slightly, a sly grin flickering on his face, and—without missing a beat—started a new game. You stared at him in disbelief, your mouth slightly agape. "Seriously?" you huffed, your pout returning with full force.

Yunho chuckled under his breath, clearly amused, his eyes never leaving the screen. "I swear, after this one," he mumbled, though you knew better than to trust that promise. Determined, you plotted your next move—because this wasn’t over. You waited a couple more minutes and around he was nearly done with the round of his game. You laid on his lap wrapping your arms around his waist smiling up at him.

"Fuck!" Yunho let out a frustrated curse as his game ended in defeat once again. His irritation was palpable as he abruptly set the controller down, gently but absentmindedly pushing you to the side as he stood up, running his hands through his hair in annoyance. You huffed out angrily as he pushed you to the side.

"No, I’m sorry, but I really need to beat this round right now," Yunho groaned, plopping back down on the opposite side of the couch. Frustrated, he snatched up his controller, ready to start a new game. But before he could, you marched over and snatched the controller right out of his hands.

"Okay, you know what? I’m only asking for five minutes to cuddle. Just five minutes. You easily find time to play your games, even though you’re on them all day when I’m at work and school. You could be playing then," you snapped, letting out a heavy, frustrated sigh, your patience wearing thin. He got up towering above you and stared down at you. You went silent, your lips trembling into a pout as you felt a sting behind your eyes, tears threatening to fall. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you finally spoke, your voice soft but laced with hurt.

"Yunho, I work every day to help us afford this life together. All I’m asking for is a little time with you. But it feels like you’d rather be glued to your games—you’re acting like you’re addicted." Your gaze dropped to the floor, unable to meet his eyes as your heart ached.

In an instant, Yunho’s frustration shifted. His hand reached out, firm but not harsh, as he gently gripped your face, tilting it up so your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, sharp like daggers, filled with a mix of anger, guilt, and something else buried deep beneath the surface—something unspoken.

"I am not addicted, and if I was, you should be glad I’m not addicted to drugs or alcohol—something that could actually hurt you," Yunho growled through gritted teeth, his frustration boiling over. His harsh words hit you like a slap, and a slight shiver ran through your body. You pushed him away, the sting of his tone and the weight of his words sending tears streaming down your face.

"Well, I am glad you’re not…" you whispered, your voice trembling, thick with emotion. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. Your heart pounding, you turned and walked quickly to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you. The sharp click of the lock echoed in the silence that followed, leaving Yunho standing there, the air heavy with words that couldn’t be taken back.

About an hour had passed, the room now filled with the faint remnants of your quiet sobs, your tears soaked into the pillow you’d clung to like a fragile anchor. The weight of your first real fight with Yunho sat heavy in your chest, a painful contrast to the warmth and laughter that usually filled the space you shared. The man who had been your rock, your comfort, and your partner for three years now felt like a stranger—just on the other side of the door.

A soft knock echoed through the silence, hesitant and careful, as if Yunho wasn’t sure whether to disturb you or not. You closed your eyes, a small whine escaping your lips, the ache of the argument still fresh. You weren’t ready—not yet. Facing him meant confronting the hurt, the sharp words, and the emotions tangled in between.

Another knock followed, softer this time, almost like an apology wrapped in the sound. You pulled the blanket tighter around you, turning away from the door, fighting the urge to open it. The memory of his frustrated gaze lingered in your mind, but so did the warmth of all the moments you’d shared nights filled with whispered dreams, spontaneous laughter, and gentle touches.

But right now, all of that felt distant. You weren’t sure if you were ready to close that distance just yet. You heard Yunho's voice softly speak from the other side of the door.

"Y/N… can you please open the door?" Yunho's voice came through softly, filled with a hint of regret. You let out a heavy sigh, pushing yourself up from the bed. Slowly, you made your way to the door, hesitating for a brief moment before unlocking it. As you opened the door, your eyes met his, searching for something unspoken in his gaze. Without a word, he stepped inside, his presence filling the room as the tension hung in the air between you. Yunho hugged you softly wrapping his arms around your body. His warmth somehow comforted you.

"I'm sorry for the argument earlier..." he murmured with a sigh, his arms still wrapped securely around you. With a deep breath, you slowly lifted your arms—though they felt weighed down by lingering emotions—and gently wrapped them around his waist, returning his embrace. He slowly picked you up into his arms carrying you to the bed suggesting he wanted to cuddle and be comforted.

"I don't like we fought. I am really sorry baby." He whispered to you looking down at you as he softly pressed his lips against yours. You accepted his apology and continued to kiss him. You felt his arms lift your waist again now making you sit up on his lap.

"Let me make it up to you... I want you to know how much I love you..." he whispered and soon you felt his hands go up your body but underneath your clothes. He continued to kiss you, but it got more passionate. You felt his hand snap your bra off and he helped you take it off but leaving his sweater on you. You felt extremely warm feeling his hand caress your bare skin underneath his/your sweater.

"Yunho..." you hummed, shifting on his lap as he kept caressing your body. His lips now attached to your neck as he laid you on the bed and lifted the sweater to your chest exposing your breasts. Yunho softly placed his hand over one gently squeezing and rubbing the nipple with his thumb, causing you to moan softly. You pulled his face up from your neck to kiss him again. He then sat up and pulled your pants and underwear off along with his clothes. He was fully aroused in the moment and only needed you.

"I love you so much, you are so beautiful." Yunho whispered into your ear as he pulled u back onto his lap, now having your back face him as he lifted your legs up over his legs. His lips attached to your neck once again, now sliding his hand down your inner thigh caressing it. You felt the heat rush to your core getting you excited.

"I love you too Yunho." You moaned out as you felt one of his fingers rub against your cunt. You felt his other hand crawl up your waist onto your chest again as he squeezed and played with one of your breasts. You moaned a bit louder, feeling yourself melt in under his touch. Yunho finally slid one finger in between your folds commenting how wet you already are. You didn't respond only just so deep into this heating moment. Yunho groaned as he started practically fucking you with his finger causing you to moan louder.

"Yunho please!" You begged him gripping his wrist as he now shoved another finger in. It aroused him even more that you were weak and helpless when it comes to his hands, and he knew how to use them against you. You were now digging your nails into his wrists, moaning, and grinding upwards. He groaned at your actions.

"Fuck." he exhaled and kissed your neck deeply squeezing your breast even more as if it was a stress ball relaxing him. You threw your head back fighting the urge to moan extremely loud by biting your lip. Yunho couldn't take it anymore; he needed you so much now. He pulled his fingers out and laid you on your back hovering above you. You gave him a soft look in his eyes full of deep lust and love.

"You drive me absolutely crazy," he chuckles softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek. Yunho lifts one leg as he aligns the tip of his cock right against your entrance. He slowly pushes in groaning at the feeling. He leans over you and starts thrusting into you. You moan nonstop now.

You slip your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your lips meet again, deepening the kiss with a tenderness that speaks volumes. His hands instinctively find their way to your waist, holding you as if afraid to let go, the tension from earlier melting away with every passing second.

Yunho thrusts in deeper causing you to whine from the pleasure. You felt your insides practically melting as his tip kissed your sweet spot causing you to let out higher and louder moans.

"Yunho!" You almost scream feeling him now practically getting sloppier with his thrusts. Yunho's cock was twitching inside you causing your sensitive insides to wrap around him nicely. He groaned whispering in your ear, "I am about to cum." He wrapped his hand over your neck sitting up as he was now pounding deep inside you.

"Please..." you moaned loudly, soon he gave one final deep thrust before cumming inside. You felt his warmth leave you as he pulled out. You were both panting exhaustedly. Yunho laid down beside you and kissed your lips softly wrapping his arms around you cuddling you.

"I love you very much Y/N." Yunho smiled at you. You smiled back kissing his nose, "I love you too Yunho." you giggled feeling better you both made up.

•

I am weak on my knees right now. I for real felt so lightheaded and dizzy writing this. this is absolutely insane. I am sorry for annoying y'all with stories... Lol.

[littlemissshifter]

Your desires are YOU.

I seriously need you guys to stop saying you haven't gotten your desires. Stop saying that 'pretend you have it already'. This is seriously not true. You can't pretend anything. It'll only make it harder for you when you feel doubt and check in the physical plane and see nothing.

When I say that you are your desires I'm not saying that to motivate you, I don't care about that. I'm telling you the truth so you can learn the way how reality works, how you work and motivate yourself.

It is your reality. It is made up of you. Your desires are not something that appear out of thin air. They appear out of you. Stop with the mindset that makes you believe that you're anything else but your desires.

You are just a ball of energy. So are your desires. When we say that the 4D is the true reality, we don't mean that the 3D is not real. It is very much real, just that it is coming out of you and showing you what you decide. Imagination and reality are not different. They are one. Imagination is reality and reality is imagination. 3D=4D.

Every thought you have is a whole reality, a whole universe on it's own. Every desire you have makes up your soul, your heart. Your desires, your wishes no matter how 'long' or how 'far' in the 'future' will show up. You cannot stop getting your heart's desires. That's literally why you're here. To experience what you want.

No fear or doubt in the entire world combined can stop what you have full control over. Stop acting like you're scared you won't get your 'desires'. They are literally you. You are made up of your desires. Your desires are completely made up of you. You breath them into existence by just existing. Please stop behaving like you aren't aware of how reality works.

You can spiral, doubt, fear all you want, in the end you'll experience what your heart desires. It's inevitable. Feeling what you're feeling is good. But those feelings arising because you think you're not enough? Have some trust in yourself and wake tf up to the truth.

You can't cry about not having something when that something is you. This is where inner fulfilment comes in. Those people weren't lying when they said all that. Inner fulfilment is not the feeling of wish fulfilled. It is the knowing. The knowing that what you desire is you. You don't desire something outside of you.

Your desire is made up of every inch and ounce of you in it. Look within. It's right there.

[arcadia-smith]

TW: 18+, smut, cock riding, car sex, dirty talk.

Word count: 892

Being married to Simon Riley felt like something straight out of a movie. The times when he was deployed were difficult, but the moment he returned, it was as if he had never left.

Formal dinners and gatherings became a common part of your life. Dressed in your finest attire, you stood beside Simon, who looked striking in his formal uniform, both of you enjoying the hum of conversation and the clink of glasses around the room.

A few hours into the evening, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your skin as he whispered, "Hey you wanna leave, we can go fuck in the car and get chicken nuggets?"

Your cheeks flushed with a hint of embarrassment, "Oh my god, Simon! You can't just say that so casually..."

He leaned in closer, "Come on, baby, don't play coy with me. We both know you want it. And trust me, those nuggets will taste even better after I've had my fill of you."

He reached for your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "Let's get out of here before I lose my patience completely."

"Alright, let's do it. But hurry, before someone notices us missing." You lead him towards the exit, heels clicking against the floor. Once outside, you quickly scanned the parking lot for your car.

Simon followed close behind, his eyes fixed on the enticing sway of your hips as you walked ahead.

Once you reached the vehicle, he pressed you against the side of the car and claimed your mouth in a hungry kiss "Mmm, you taste even better than those nuggets will." He bit your lower lip before trailing kisses down your neck "Now, where were we? Ah yes, getting fucked in the car..."

You reached down to press one hand over the bulk in his pants "But maybe we should hurry before someone comes looking for us. Or before I end up bent over the hood of the car instead of in the seat." You slid hands under his uniform jacket, feeling the heat of his skin beneath.

Simon let out a groan pulling away from you as he opened the passenger door for you.

"Buckle up, sweetheart, because this ride is about to get real bumpy." With a wink, he closed the door and jogged around to the driver's side.

Once inside the car Simon reached over the middle console to pull you onto his lap, "Now, where were we? Ah yes..." His fingers found the hem of your dress, slowly inching it up as he captured your mouth in a searing kiss.

You moaned softly into the kiss, your body melted against Simon's as his hands explored under your dress.

Your hand wrapped around his neck as you grinded your hips against him, with other hand you guided his hands to the fastenings of your panties, "I'm already so wet for you, baby. I need you inside me now."

As soon as your underwear was discarded, you worked on freeing Simon's cock from his pants. You positioned yourself over Simon's straining erection, sinking down slowly until he was fully sheathed within you, "Fuck, you feel incredible..." you started to rock your hips, savoring the delicious friction as you began to ride him.

As a control freak he was, Simon gripped your hips hard, guiding your movements "That's it, baby, take what you need. You're so fucking hot right now, I can barely stand it." He thrusted up to meet you, driving deeper with each stroke. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the car, punctuated by your panting breaths and moans of pleasure.

As you continued to bounce on his lap, Simon's free hand snaked up to cup your breast, tweaking the nipple through the fabric of your dress. He leaned in to nip at your earlobe, "You're gonna make me cum so hard, sweetheart."

Lost in the haze of lust, you threw your head back, surrendering to the intense sensations coursing through you.

"Yes, yes, fuck me harder!" You cried out, nails digging into his shoulders as you picked up the pace, riding him with wild abandon. "Don't stop, I'm so close... Make me cum on your big, fat cock!"

Simon's control snapped at your desperate pleas, he gripped your hips harder, slamming up into you with brutal force as he chased his own peak. "Fuck, baby, you're going to be the death of me."

With a final, powerful thrust, Simon buried himself to the hilt, his cock pulsing as he erupted inside you. Wave after wave of intense ecstasy crashed over him, his vision blurring as he filled you with his seed.

He held you in place, grinding against you as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax.

As Simon's hot release flooded your womb, you collapsed against him, spent and sated. You nuzzled into the crook of his neck, "You always know how to make me see stars, baby."

Simon wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you both tried to catch your breath, "I always aim to please my wife."

After a moment, he gently disentangled himself from you, helping you back into your seat and to adjust your clothing.

Once you were buckled up, he started the engine "Now, about those nuggets..." He reached over to give your thigh a playful squeeze. "I believe I promised you some, remember?"