#but i always feel like i have to Apologize

[theetherealbloom]

Don't Stop Talking To Me, And Maybe Stay Here Forever

Summary: You join Pedro Pascal in Morocco while he’s filming Gladiator 2. Between the beauty of the Moroccan landscape, the two of you share intimate moments, from quiet rooftop dinners to playful photo-taking and teasing with the cast.

Or… “I'll hold you, I'll know you. I'll never leave out the back door. And I'd love to complete you, hope you get all you could ask for.”

I just read your latest pedro fic it was the BEST DAMN THING i’ve ever read, my heart is going to burst out of my chest from all the butterflies 🦋🫠❤️ will you write more for pedro? perhaps his gf could visit him in marocco or something while he’s filming gladiator and to meet everyone from set and maybe have some alone quality time? :3 just a suggestion 😌 anyways have a lovely dayyy ^^ — anon

Paring: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Established Relationship, Age-Gap(ish), TOOTH-ROTTING FLUFF, Slight Angst, Swearing, Anxiety, Cheesy Dialogue, Cuddling, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Social Media, Embarrassment, Teasing, Shower, Slight Nudity, Make Out Session, Celebrities

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Okay, so, we’ve all seen the photo dumps!??!! Yes! GREAT! I haven’t watched Gladiator 2 cause it isn’t out yet in my country, so there’ll be no spoilers here mhmhmhmhm. I’m just gonna make stuff up based on the pictures Pedro posted on his Instagram lol. And again, this is all made-up, fictional, self-indulgent vibes so pls no one come after me ahhhhhh T^T

Also lowkey, I can see multiple parts to this so… stay tuned.

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!

Songs: Packing It Up by Gracie Abrams, this is how you fall in love by Jeremy Zucker and Chelsea Cutler

gif by @a7estrellas

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OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — DAY

The warm Moroccan breeze kissed your skin as you stepped onto the bustling set of Gladiator 2. Pedro’s laughter echoed from somewhere nearby, his distinct voice easy to pick out over the hum of activity. Your heart swelled just hearing it. He was always magnetic, but here—working, immersed in a world of creativity and camaraderie—he was luminous.  

You adjusted your sunglasses, feeling both excited and slightly anxious. Meeting Pedro’s castmates felt like stepping into his other life, one where you weren’t the center of his world but a welcome visitor orbiting it. He’d reassured you endlessly. “They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not?” But still, nerves lingered.  

“Mi amor!” Pedro’s voice cut through your thoughts. He emerged from behind a cluster of tents, his smile so wide it could eclipse the Moroccan sun.  

“Hey, stranger.” You grinned, letting him sweep you into a tight hug.  

He pulled back just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms still firmly around your waist. “You made it,” he whispered, his lips brushing your temple.  

“Of course, I made it,” you teased, tilting your head to look up at him. “I missed you too much to stay away.”  

The day unfolded in bursts of joy.  

Pedro introduced you to Coco Ullrich, Paul Mescal, and the rest of the cast. Everyone was warm and welcoming, their teasing camaraderie quickly drawing you in. Pedro stayed close, his hand finding yours at every opportunity, like he couldn’t stand to be too far away.  

Later, you found yourself perched on a stool in the makeup trailer, Pedro sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you. “Hold still,” you said, trying to fix his disheveled hair.  

Coco stood nearby, laughing as Pedro playfully swatted at your hands. “I’m serious, guapo! You’ll go out there looking like you just rolled out of bed.”  

“Maybe I did roll out of bed,” he quipped, grinning.  

You raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t, but if you keep squirming, I’m going to make sure you look like it.”  

Coco shook her head, still laughing. “I don’t know how you put up with him.”  

“I have my ways,” you said, giving Pedro a mock glare.  

Pedro leaned closer, his eyes softening. “You’re lucky I love you,” he murmured, his lips brushing yours before you could stop him.  

“Pedro!” you protested, laughing as he pulled you into a full kiss, distracting you from your task.  

“Hopeless,” Coco muttered, snapping a quick photo of the moment.  

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO — SUNSET

The Moroccan sunset painted the sky in hues of gold and rose as you, Pedro, and the cast settled onto the soft blankets laid out for an impromptu picnic. The sprawling desert seemed to stretch infinitely, its serene stillness a striking contrast to the chaotic energy of the set. A light breeze rustled through the palm trees in the distance, carrying the faint sound of laughter and the clinking of glasses.

Pedro sat behind you, his arms comfortably wrapped around your waist as you leaned back into his chest. His fingertips absentmindedly traced small, lazy circles on your bare skin where your shirt had ridden up slightly. It was a touch that grounded you, soothing and sweet, and yet it made your heart ache with affection.

“This is perfect,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it louder might shatter the fragile beauty of the moment.

Pedro leaned closer, his lips brushing your ear. “No, you’re perfect,” he said softly, his voice laced with adoration.

You turned your head to look at him, catching the warmth in his gaze. He looked at you like you hung the very stars above, and your cheeks flushed. “Cheesy,” you teased, though you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

“Honest,” he countered, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. His nose nudged yours affectionately, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you.

Paul Mescal, lounging nearby with a bottle of something cold in his hand, cleared his throat dramatically. “Alright, lovebirds, can you save the smoldering for the cameras? Some of us are trying to enjoy the sunset without third-wheeling your Notebook audition.”

Coco Ullrich snorted from her spot on the blanket, where she was busy assembling a makeshift charcuterie board. “Please, Paul, don’t act like you’re not taking notes for your own love scenes.”

Paul shot her a deadpan look. “What’s there to take notes on? I’m already perfect.”

“Debatable,” Coco quipped, popping a grape into her mouth and grinning.  

Pedro chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back. “Paul, don’t be jealous. You already found someone who tolerates you.”  

“Oh, I’m not jealous,” Paul said, gesturing between you and Pedro. “I’m inspired. The level of clinginess you two have achieved—it’s an art form.”  

“Clinginess?” you repeated, raising an eyebrow.  

“Yes, clinginess,” Paul said, smirking. “He hasn’t let go of you since you got here. It’s like watching a koala in human form.”

Coco leaned in conspiratorially. “Do you think he’d survive a day without her?”  

“Doubtful,” Paul replied, his tone grave.  

Pedro shook his head, his arms tightening around you playfully. “Let them joke,” he said into your ear, his voice a low murmur. “They’re just bitter they don’t have their partners to hold them while they complain about the heat.”  

You turned your head slightly to whisper back, “I think they’re projecting.”  

Pedro laughed, loud and unabashed, and the sound sent warmth flooding through you.  

“Alright, enough roasting Pedro,” Coco said, waving her hands. “Let’s focus on the important stuff—like this cheese board I’m absolutely nailing.”

“Coco, you put a block of cheese next to some crackers,” Paul pointed out.  

“And yet, it’s still better than anything you’ve contributed,” she shot back.

You couldn’t help but laugh as they continued to bicker, the dynamic between the cast a perfect blend of teasing and genuine affection. It felt good to be a part of this world for a little while, to see Pedro in his element and to share these small, beautiful moments with the people who meant so much to him.  

As the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with deeper hues of crimson and violet, Pedro shifted slightly behind you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You doing okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly, his voice meant just for you.

“I’m better than okay,” you said, turning your face to his. “This is one of those moments I’ll never forget.”

“Same,” he replied, his eyes searching yours. “But mostly because you’re here.”

Paul groaned from across the blanket. “Seriously, someone hand me a bucket. I can’t handle this level of sap.”

“You’re just missing Gracie,” Coco teased, tossing a cracker at Paul with a sly grin.  

Paul caught it mid-air with a dramatic flourish. “She’s the love of my life, thank you very much. I’m thriving, just long-distance thriving.” His wide smile softened slightly, a dreamy look crossing his face.  

Pedro chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder as he held you closer. “See, even Paul can be romantic. It’s not just us being disgustingly in love.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Paul said, waving him off, though the grin never left his face. “But you two are setting the bar impossibly high. Stop making the rest of us look bad.”

Coco shook her head with mock exasperation. “Let’s face it, no one can compete with Pedro’s clingy koala act.”  

“Hey, it’s not clingy if it’s mutual,” you chimed in, leaning back into Pedro’s embrace.  

“Exactly!” Pedro said, kissing the side of your neck for emphasis. “This is just... efficient affection.”  

“Efficient affection?” Coco repeated, laughing so hard she nearly knocked over the cheese board. “That’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard.”

Pedro shrugged, utterly unbothered, his lips brushing your temple as he murmured, “Don’t let them ruin this for us.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you whispered back, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw.  

The first stars began to dot the darkening sky, their glow faint but steady against the fading hues of gold and rose. The laughter of the group blended with the soothing whisper of the desert breeze, wrapping the evening in a cocoon of warmth and love.

You let out a contented sigh, your fingers intertwining with Pedro’s. These moments—filled with jokes, tenderness, and the quiet magic of a Moroccan sunset—were the kind you knew you’d carry with you forever.

THE NEXT DAY

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – AFTERNOON  

The afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting warm golden light over the sprawling desert set. The faint hum of activity outside the large tent provided a calming backdrop as you and Pedro sat together, stealing a moment away from the chaos of production.  

Pedro’s lap had become your designated resting place, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as you leaned into him. You had been quietly chatting about the day—how stunning the desert looked on camera, how Paul had stolen one of Coco’s snacks during a break—when the warmth of the afternoon began to lull you both into sleep.  

His hand moved lazily up and down your back, the motion soothing as his voice grew quieter, more relaxed. “You know,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your temple, “this might be my favorite part of the day.”  

“Falling asleep during work?” you teased, your voice soft and playful.  

“Falling asleep with you,” he corrected, his smile audible in his words.  

It wasn’t long before exhaustion claimed you both, your head tucked under his chin and his cheek resting against your hair. The quiet hum of the tent became a comforting cocoon, and time seemed to stretch and blur.  

The sound of muffled laughter stirred you from sleep, pulling you out of the warm haze. You blinked against the light, realizing you were still tucked into Pedro’s chest, his arms holding you close even as he began to wake.  

“Don’t move,” a familiar voice called. You turned your head to see Paul Mescal standing a few feet away, phone in hand, his grin wide and mischievous.  

Next to him, Coco Ullrich smirked as she aimed her phone at the two of you. “We’re documenting history here. You’ll thank us later.”  

Pedro stirred, squinting at them through his grogginess. “Seriously?” His voice was raspy, a mix of sleep and disbelief.  

Paul shrugged, grinning even wider as he showed Pedro the photo. “We couldn’t resist. Look at this. It’s like a promo poster for the most annoyingly sweet rom-com ever.”  

Pedro glanced at the photo, then at you, and laughed softly. “We should use that for the holiday cards this year.”  

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “This is so embarrassing. They’re never going to let us live this down.”  

Coco laughed, flipping through her photos. “Oh, it’s way too late for that. I’m sending this to the group chat and the PR team. They’ll love it.”  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded, your voice muffled against Pedro’s shirt.  

Paul tilted his head dramatically. “Why not? It’s just a little fun. Besides, you two are giving us all cavities with how sweet you are. We’re suffering.”  

Pedro smirked, holding you a little tighter. “You’re suffering? Sounds like a personal problem.”  

“Alright, alright, enough!” A gravelly voice interrupted, and you looked up to see Ridley Scott standing at the edge of the tent. His hands were on his hips, but the amused twinkle in his eye gave him away.  

“Ridley,” you started, your cheeks flushing with heat. “I’m so sorry—”  

He held up a hand to stop you, his smirk growing. “Don’t apologize. If anything, I should thank you. Pedro’s been suspiciously well-behaved since you arrived. But,” he added with a pointed glance at Pedro, “if this keeps up, we’ll have to rename the film The Gladiator and the Muse. Production’s going to take twice as long.”  

The crew burst into laughter, and you buried your face back in Pedro’s chest, groaning. “This is officially the most embarrassing moment of my life.”  

Pedro chuckled, his hand brushing gently over your back. “Embarrassing? Nah. You’re the best thing about being here.”  

You peeked up at him, your cheeks still warm, and saw the sincerity in his eyes. “You mean that?”  

“Every word,” he said, his voice soft. “You make everything easier, better… you make it all worth it.”  

Your heart swelled, and a small smile broke through your embarrassment. “Okay,” you whispered. “I’ll try to believe you.”  

“Believe me,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead.  

Paul groaned, breaking the tender moment. “Someone get a camera crew. We’re turning this into a reality show. Lovebirds in the Desert.”  

Pedro laughed, finally standing and pulling you to your feet. “Careful, Paul. You might not survive the sequel.”  

Ridley clapped his hands, his voice carrying over the lingering laughter. “Alright, lovebirds, enough stalling. Let’s get back to work! Pedro, we’ve got a fight scene to shoot.”  

Pedro gave you one last reassuring smile before winking. “Don’t go far. I’ll need more luck soon.”  

You nodded, watching him head back to set, and felt a sense of warmth that no amount of teasing could dampen. As you stepped out of the tent, the desert sun shining overhead, you knew this moment—this strange, beautiful mix of chaos and love—was one you’d carry with you forever.

OUARZAZATE, MOROCCO – EVENING  

The rooftop restaurant was like something out of a dream. Lanterns hung delicately from wrought iron fixtures, casting warm, flickering light over the table as the sun dipped below the horizon. The air was cool but pleasant, carrying the faint scent of jasmine from a nearby garden. Below, the city of Marrakech stretched out in an intricate maze of rooftops and twinkling lights, the hum of life soft and distant.  

Pedro had arranged everything, from the secluded corner table to the small vase of your favorite flowers waiting when you arrived. He always had a way of making even the simplest moments feel like magic.  

“Look at this view,” you murmured, leaning against the wrought iron railing as the sky turned from gold to a deep, dusky pink.  

Pedro stood close behind you, his hand resting gently on the small of your back. “The view’s got nothing on you,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice balanced by the sincerity in his eyes.  

You laughed, shaking your head as you turned to face him. “That’s a terrible line.”  

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning as he pulled out his phone. “But it’s true. Hold still.”  

Before you could protest, he snapped a photo, catching you mid-laugh as you tried to dodge the camera. “Pedro!” you groaned, your cheeks warming.  

He chuckled, looking at the photo with a self-satisfied smile. “Perfect. Might frame this one.”  

“Stop it,” you said, trying to grab the phone from him, but he held it out of reach, his grin only widening.  

“Never,” he replied, his free hand reaching across the table to take yours. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, and his gaze softened. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  

Your stomach fluttered at the way he said it—no teasing this time, just quiet, earnest affection.  

“Now you’re just being unfair,” you muttered, trying to hide your blush.  

Pedro leaned forward, his head tilting slightly as if to study you closer. “Not unfair. Just honest.”  

You rolled your eyes playfully, but your heart was pounding. In a bid to regain some ground, you grabbed your own phone and quickly snapped a picture of him just as he brought your hand to his lips. The resulting photo was unfairly good—his lashes long, the lantern light catching the gold in his eyes, the softness in his expression making your chest ache.  

“Got you,” you said triumphantly, holding up the phone.  

Pedro laughed, his thumb brushing over your knuckles again as he met your gaze. “Now we’re even?”  

“Now we’re even,” you confirmed, though your grin gave away how smug you felt.  

The waiter arrived with dessert just then—a delicate plate of Moroccan pastries accompanied by a small bowl of honey and almonds. You both leaned forward at the same time, reaching for the same pastry, and burst into laughter when your fingers brushed.  

“Go ahead,” Pedro said, gesturing gallantly.  

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, breaking off a piece of the pastry and dipping it into the honey. You held it up to his lips, your pulse skipping when he leaned in without hesitation.  

“Delicious,” he said, his voice low and warm. “But I think it tastes better coming from you.”  

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, trying to suppress a smile as you took a bite yourself. The flaky pastry melted on your tongue, its sweetness perfectly balanced by the honey.  

As you shared the dessert, your conversation drifted from playful teasing to the little things that filled your days. Pedro told you about a funny moment on set earlier when Paul had forgotten his lines and improvised something so absurd even Ridley couldn’t stop laughing.  

“And then,” Pedro continued, his grin infectious, “he tried to blame me, saying my face was too distracting.”  

“Well, he’s not wrong,” you teased, earning a dramatic roll of Pedro’s eyes.  

“Oh, so now you’re on his side?”  

“I’m on the side of the truth,” you said, popping an almond into your mouth.  

Pedro chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”  

Your smile softened, and you leaned your chin on your hand as you looked at him. “Probably still charming everyone who crosses your path.”  

“Not like this,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. He reached across the table again, his fingers lacing with yours. “You make everything better. You make me better.”  

Your throat tightened at the rawness in his voice, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling deep in your chest.  

“You do the same for me,” you said quietly.  

The soft music playing in the background faded into the hum of the city as the two of you sat there, the world narrowing to just this moment. Pedro brought your hand to his lips again, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before resting your joined hands on the table.  

As the night stretched on, the two of you continued to talk about everything and nothing—your favorite childhood memories, the places you wanted to visit together, the little quirks you loved about each other.  

When it was time to leave, Pedro stood and extended a hand to help you up. “One last picture before we go?” he asked, his phone already in hand.  

You nodded, letting him pull you into his side. The lanterns glowed softly behind you as he kissed your cheek just as the camera clicked.  

Looking at the photo, you smiled. It was perfect—just like this night, just like him. 

L’HÔTEL MARRAKECH, MOROCCO – EVENING

The golden hues of the evening sun had long faded, leaving the hotel suite illuminated only by the soft glow of warm, ambient lighting. Laughter filled the room, bubbling up between stolen glances and playful teasing. Pedro leaned against the edge of the plush sofa, his hand resting casually on his hip as you doubled over with giggles at another one of his overly dramatic impressions. 

“I’m just saying,” he said with a grin, holding up his hands in mock innocence. “If anyone here is getting an Oscar for Most Entertaining Human, it’s me.”

You rolled your eyes, swatting at him lightly. “You? Entertaining? Please. You’re just lucky I think you’re cute.”

“Just cute?” he teased, his voice dropping into a low, mock-hurt murmur. He stepped closer, tilting his head. “That’s disappointing.”

And just like that, with no warning, he took your hand and spun you gently into his arms. There was no music, no sound but the faint rustle of the curtains and the muted hum of life outside your window. But to Pedro, there was no need for anything more. 

“Dance with me,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath, pulling you flush against him.

“Pedro,” you started to protest, but the way he was looking at you—so earnest, so unguarded—stole the words from your lips. He rested his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you like he was afraid to let go. 

“You are the reason I can breathe,” he murmured. His voice cracked slightly, raw and unfiltered. “The reason I can survive.”

Your chest tightened, and your hands gripped the soft cotton of his shirt as you closed your eyes. Slowly, the two of you began to sway, side to side, as if the universe itself had orchestrated this silent melody just for you.

“Pedro,” you whispered, tears threatening to spill as the weight of his words sank deep into your soul. “You don’t have to—”

“Shh.” He cut you off gently, his lips brushing the crown of your head. “I want to. You’re my safe place.”

Together, you moved as one, the world outside forgotten. The phones were switched off, the curtains drawn, and for a moment, it felt like time had ceased to exist. All that mattered was this—his arms around you, your head resting on his chest, and the way his heartbeat felt steady and strong beneath your cheek.

“What’s easy is right,” you whispered suddenly, echoing words your mother had once said. The truth of it struck you in that moment, how being with Pedro never felt like a choice—it was instinct. Like breathing. Like coming home. 

Pedro smiled, his hand brushing a strand of hair from your face. “What’s easy is right,” he repeated softly. “Then I guess it’s easy to know... I’m going to love you forever.”

You laughed softly, though the lump in your throat made it difficult. “Forever’s a long time.”

He tilted your chin up, his warm, brown eyes crinkling at the corners with a quiet joy. “Not nearly long enough,” he said, his voice a low promise. “You’ll be my best friend until we’re old and gray. And even then, I’ll still love you.”

There was something in the way he said it—so simple, so sure—that your knees nearly gave out. But as always, Pedro was there, holding you steady, keeping you close. 

This is how you fall in love, you realized. Not in a blaze of fireworks, but in the quiet moments where you let go and they hold you up. 

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?” Pedro said after a long silence, his voice filled with wonder. “You make my stomach ache with hope. You make my hands stop shaking. I wake up smiling now, and it’s because of you.”

You bit your lip, your fingers tracing lazy patterns across his chest. “Pedro…”

“No, listen to me,” he insisted, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Love isn’t supposed to be heavy. It’s not supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to be this. Us. A safe place. A hand to hold through every storm.”

His words broke something open inside you, and you nodded, letting the tears spill over. “You’re my safe place too,” you whispered. “You make me believe I deserve this.”

Pedro pulled you closer, resting his chin on the top of your head as he swayed you gently. “You deserve everything,” he murmured. “Every laugh, every sunrise, every stupid little joke I’ll tell for the next fifty years.”

You both laughed softly, the sound mingling with the quiet hum of the room. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment—this love that was soft, steady, and unshakable.

Right from your hips to your cuticles, you were everything to him, and he was everything to you. Wherever you both went, it was heaven. And neither of you ever wanted to leave. 

Steam filled the bathroom, the warmth clinging to the mirrors and wrapping around the two of you like a soft cocoon. Pedro stood under the cascade of water, droplets running down his broad shoulders and soaking his messy curls. His eyes flicked toward you, a tender smile tugging at his lips as you stepped closer, your fingers gently reaching for the shampoo bottle.  

“Turn around,” you said softly, motioning for him to face away from you.  

“Yes, ma’am,” he teased, though there was a hint of shyness in his voice as he obeyed.  

You lathered the shampoo between your hands, your touch careful and affectionate as you worked it into his hair. His curls were soft and damp beneath your fingers, the grays glinting like silver in the dim light.  

“I love your hair,” you murmured, your voice reverent.  

Pedro let out a small, self-deprecating chuckle, tilting his head back slightly. “The gray makes me look old.”  

You paused, your hands stilling in his hair as you leaned around to catch his gaze. “Stop that. It doesn’t make you look old; it makes you look distinguished. And I happen to love every single one of these.” You tugged playfully at a curl for emphasis.  

He gave you a sheepish look, his lips twitching as he fought back a pout. “You’re just saying that because you’re stuck with me.”  

“Stuck with you?” you repeated, feigning outrage. “Oh, no, Pedro. I chose you—gray hair and all. And I’d choose you again. Every single day.”  

His pout softened into a smile, one so genuine it made your chest ache. “You’re too good to me,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple.  

“And you deserve it,” you countered firmly, finishing his hair with a rinse.  

When it was your turn, Pedro insisted on returning the favor, his hands gentle as he massaged the conditioner into your hair. His touch lingered, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck as he marveled at you.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, his voice thick with sincerity.  

“Even covered in soap?” you teased, feeling heat creep up your cheeks.  

“Especially covered in soap,” he replied, leaning down to steal a kiss.  

The shower ended with a flurry of soft laughter and playful splashes, the two of you wrapped in towels as you padded into the bedroom. Pedro pulled on a pair of boxers while you slipped into one of his oversized shirts, the hem brushing the tops of your thighs.  

The two of you slipped into bed, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm, golden light over the room. The air smelled faintly of the lavender lotion you’d rubbed on your hands, mingling with the subtle hint of Pedro’s cologne that still lingered on his skin. He had one arm draped lazily over your waist, his other hand holding a book he’d claimed to be interested in, though his wandering eyes betrayed him.

A book rested in your lap, too, but you’d long given up on reading. Instead, you could feel his gaze flickering to you, watching you more than the words on his page. It was endearing, the way he thought you wouldn’t notice, how he never grew tired of studying you like he’d never quite figure you out.  

“You’re not reading,” you finally accused, peeking at him over the edge of your book.  

Pedro grinned, unabashed. He set his book down on the nightstand and scooted closer, leaning his head on the pillow beside you. “Can you blame me?” he said, his voice soft and teasing. His hand reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his knuckles grazing your cheek. “I’ve got the most beautiful view right here.”  

You rolled your eyes, trying to fight the warmth rising in your cheeks, but the smile that stretched across your lips betrayed you. “You’re ridiculous,” you murmured, nudging him lightly with your elbow.  

“And yet, you love me,” he replied with mock arrogance, leaning back against the headboard with a self-satisfied smirk.  

“Unfortunately for me,” you quipped, though your tone was dripping with affection.  

Pedro’s laugh filled the room, low and warm, wrapping around you like a blanket. You settled back into your spot, his arm tightening slightly around your waist, anchoring you to him. For a while, there was only the sound of pages turning and the occasional creak of the bed as one of you shifted.  

Eventually, the books were forgotten, abandoned on the nightstand as the room grew darker, the soft click of the lamp switch plunging you into the comforting glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains.  

Lying side by side, your head resting on Pedro’s chest, you let your fingers trace lazy patterns along the bare skin of his arm. But your mind wouldn’t quiet, and as the minutes stretched on, the thoughts bubbling inside you demanded to be voiced.  

“Okay, but really,” you began, your voice breaking the comfortable silence. “Why is ‘llama’ spelled with two L’s? Wouldn’t one be enough? It’s not like we say ‘Llama-la.’”  

Pedro let out a soft laugh, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your cheek. He tilted his head down to look at you, his lips quirking into a smile. “Mi amor, I adore you, but it’s almost midnight. Go to sleep.”  

“I can’t until I solve this mystery,” you said with mock determination, lifting your head to look at him.  

He sighed dramatically, feigning exasperation. “Fine. Maybe the second ‘L’ is there to confuse aliens.”  

You gasped, sitting up slightly. “That makes so much sense! Like, imagine aliens judging us for eating cereal with milk.”  

Pedro chuckled again, his arm tightening around you to keep you close. “Cereal with milk is sacred,” he said, his voice heavy with playful conviction. “If aliens have an issue with that, I’ll fight them myself.”  

You grinned, turning to prop yourself up on your elbow so you could face him fully. “Okay, serious question. If you could ask someone anything and be guaranteed the truth, who would it be?”  

Pedro cracked one eye open, his other hand lazily resting on your hip. “I’d ask you why you’re so determined to keep me awake,” he deadpanned, his lips twitching with a suppressed smile.  

You laughed, nudging him with your elbow. “I’m serious!”  

“Alright, alright,” he relented, the mirth in his eyes softening as he considered your question. “I’d ask my third-grade teacher if she really lost my homework or if she just didn’t like me.”  

You burst out laughing, the sound muffled by the way you buried your face into his chest. “That’s what you’d waste your question on?”  

“Don’t judge me,” he said with mock indignation, his fingers trailing absent patterns on your back. “It’s haunted me for years.”  

Your laughter subsided into a warm giggle as you tilted your head up to look at him. “Fine. My turn. I’d ask my mom if she’s proud of me. Like… really proud. Not just the ‘I’m your mom, so I have to say it’ kind of proud.”  

Pedro’s hand stilled on your back, his gaze softening as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. “She’s proud of you, baby,” he murmured against your skin. “And so am I. Always.”  

The weight of his words wrapped around your heart, a comforting balm that eased the ache of self-doubt. You nuzzled closer, your fingers curling around his as you let the quiet stretch between you for a moment.  

Moments later, you broke the silence again, your voice a whisper in the dark. “When I was little, I thought my toys came alive when I wasn’t looking. Like Toy Story. Honestly, I still kinda think they do.”  

Pedro let out a deep laugh, his chest shaking beneath you as he pulled you even closer. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” he said, his voice warm with amusement. “Your stuffed bunny? Definitely a troublemaker.”  

You giggled, your heart feeling impossibly light as his hand returned to its slow, soothing patterns on your back.  

The conversation drifted into comfortable nonsense, the kind of midnight musings that didn’t need to make sense but brought a certain kind of intimacy only shared in the quiet hours of the night.  

Finally, as your eyelids grew heavy and your words faded into murmurs, Pedro pressed a lingering kiss to your temple. “Goodnight, mi amor,” he whispered, his voice soft and steady.  

In his arms, with the world outside forgotten, you felt safe. Loved. His heartbeat was the only rhythm you needed as you drifted into sleep, a love like no other holding you steady through the night.

[deathbxnny]

Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)

I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!

The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader

I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33

Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.

You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.

And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.

》VI

"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.

It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.

Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.

Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.

She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.

"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."

You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.

》JINX

"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.

Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.

"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.

"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?

"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.

"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"

Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.

》CAITLYN

She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.

Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.

And this time she had finally succeeded.

Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.

"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.

"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.

You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."

You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.

Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.

A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.

[catsukkii]

Prohero!katsuki — with florist reader

IN WHICH… katsuki was Inlove with a girl at the flower shop, ever since his mom brought him when he was little. He was always a bully to her because he couldn’t process his emotions. Eventually, he went to UA Highschool and moved on to become a pro-hero, leaving them no time to talk and leaving on bad terms, katsuki comes home for the holidays and tries to fix things, but damn she got even prettier.

Pairing; Katsuki bakugo x Afab!reader (she/her.)

Content contains; fem!reader, fluff fluff fluffy, swearing, cheesy love stuff, mentions of katsuki being a dick when he was younger, I think that’s it (lmk if u notice anything else!)

Word count; 1.6k

A/N; WOWOWOWO I got carried away I’m so sorry nobody’s gonna read ts LMAOO

Prohero!katsuki whos smitten with the cute girl who owns a flower shop, his mom used to visit it all the time when he was young, always buying potted plants and pretty flowers to decorate around the house, he always thought the owners daughter was pretty but of course he was a little shit when he was younger and was mean to her.

Prohero!katsuki who knows he was a dick when he was younger, he’s still repairing old relationships since middle school like izuku, he wants to build a relationship with you, but he figured you were off doing something for yourself at this point.

Prohero!katsuki who visits his mom back at home for the holidays, getting to spend time with family. His mom was decorating the house and wanted some pretty red poinsettias for the holiday spirit, of course she would have to visit her favorite florist shop.

“katsuki! do you remember that old florist shop we used to go to when you were just a small thing?” she speaks while putting some garland up, katsuki putting up some christmas collectibles on the shelfs, he froze once he heard this but quickly shook it off.

“yeah ma, I do. you’d drag me there all the damn time.” he rolls his eyes at the memory as she glared at him.

“you were so mean to that little girl! I remember having to yell at you so many times…” she tuts and shakes her head thinking back on the boys antics when he was younger, he has grown a lot and she’s seriously proud of him even if she doesn’t always say it.

“yeah…I know.” he grumbles out lowly, sighing to himself.

“yknow, her mother got to old to run the shop so she’s took over,” katsuki paused his movements at this, gears immediately turning in his head. “I want some red poinsettias, like we always got for the holidays. Why don’t you go get them so you can apologize to the poor girl? she runs the shop all herself now, and she asks about you sometimes.”

she explains finishing up the garland she was wrapping around various things. You asked about him? why? surely it couldn’t of been anything good, you were probably praying on his downfall and with good reason unfortunately.

Prohero!katsuki who immediately takes her up on her offer, she always knew katsuki was smitten with the girl, so it was a little bit of a scheme on her part. He drives over, his luxury car looking silly among your little mint green beetle car in the parking lot.

Prohero!katsuki who sits in his car for atleast 10 minutes contemplating what the fuck he would even say to you. he eventually gets the courage and strides in, seeing you sit with a bored expression twirling a pen in your hand. You got even prettier over the years, he can feel his face flush but he quickly shakes it off. He’s merely here because he was mean to you and wanted to rekindle a friendship, not some cheesy love story.

Prohero!katsuki who walks up to the counter with a gruff expression, crossing his arms and mumbling “red poinsettias…” you look up at him with confusion, barely understanding him.

“excuse me? sorry I couldn’t he—“ your jaw dropped at the sight, fucking katsuki bakugo was here after all these years..and jeez was he hot. He grew to a good 6’ at least and Jesus was he STRONG.

“…katsuki?” You question with a gasp, immediately turning your slouch into sitting straight up.

Prohero!katsuki who clears his throat and speaks up, “yeah…hey y/n.” he sheepishly looked around and scratched the back of his neck, he didn’t know if he could handle looking into your pretty eyes anymore.

Prohero!katsuki who cant help the smirk that crawls onto his face once you smile brightly up at him.

“omg katsuki! It’s been years— holy shit you’ve grown so much!?” you blurt out various realizations and stand up from behind your register, walking out from behind the counter with your hands on your hips, ready to catch up for the time missed.

Prohero!katsuki who is slightly overwhelmed by your greeting, grateful? yes. confused? also yes. how could you not hate him after he was a total dick? then again you truly were the sweetest girl no matter what. You never snapped back at katsuki when you were young, only crying.

Prohero!katsuki who gets a smug look when you talk about how strong and tall he’s gotten. “you’ve grown alot aswell.” he smiles down at you, before averting his gaze to look at his shoes and avoid eye contact at all costs.

“I can’t believe you’re a hero now! I only got to hear about you through your mom, I’ve been to busy trying to keep the shop from closing I haven’t had time for anything else.”

he frowned at this, it must be alot for a young girl like you to handle all by yourself.

“We barely have business and your moms probably the only reason the store hasn’t been closed yet…”

his frown grew evidently wider, you barely have business anymore? you guys had the best shop! that’s why his mother loved it so much! It was cheap, the quality was beautiful, and the service was excellent! how could you be falling out of business?

Prohero!katsuki who wears a look of pity for you for the first time in years. he sighs before looking at you and speaking,

“that sucks, I think you’re the best shop, sorry these extras can’t see that.”

it caught you off guard to hear him so sympathetic, you can’t help but let out a giggle at the irony of his drastic change over the years. you push his shoulder lightly,

“look at you being all nice and sympathetic! the katsuki I last saw would rather die then feel bad for me!” you smiled up at him brightly.

“yeah about that…” he trails off with a sigh. “I kind of came to apologize. I was dumb as a kid and…just a dick for my own personal reasons, but it’s not an excuse when you were nothing but nice to me. I’ve grown a lot and I’m still fixing relationships from back then so uhh..I’m sorry.” he finishes his speech and it makes you frown at his heartfelt words.

“awww…katsuki!” You rush over to him and wrap your arms around him tightly, he stiffens at first but eases into it and loosely wraps his arm around you with a breathy laugh.

“yeah yeah…you were always an emotional shit.” despite his sass he has a wide grin on his face, you pull away from the hug and roll your eyes, a few seconds of silence goes by before it hits you.

“the poinsettias!” you facepalm and rush around the store to where the pretty red flowers were potted, you grabbed the pot and brought it back to the counter where katsuki was waiting.

Prohero!katsuki who watches you intently as you work, “so do you want them potted or just the flower?” you ask simply. “I don’t know what the fuckin’ hag wants.” he replies with a scoff as if you asked him the most preposterous question.

“katsuki! be nice! she’s a wonderful lady..” he rolls his eyes at you and grunts. “I’ll just give you some of both, on the house seriously.” he scowls at you and shakes his head.

Prohero!katsuki “none a’ that shit.” you laugh at his antics, grabbing a knife to cut the stems. “seriously katsuki, we never get business. I’m probably gonna have to put all of these in our already very crowded garden if they don’t sell anyway.” you explain continuing your work on the flowers.

Prohero!katsuki who ponders for a moment before ultimately speaking up and deciding, “alright give me 10. I’ll double the price.” before you can even try to argue he’s pulling out his wallet, causing your jaw to drop and you quickly spin around to fully meet his gaze.

“nono! katsuki seriously it’s fine! I don’t wanna do that especially after all your moms done for the store.”

he gives you the meanest glare he can muster and just continues to ignore you and pull out money, you sigh but are grateful nonetheless. You grab some more of the flowers from their section, equally dividing it to be 5 bouquets and 5 pots. you made quick small talk as you worked catching up on eachothers lifes, he couldn’t help but blush just at your mere presence, not that you were any better off, you couldn’t look at him without your eyes drifting to his muscular body. you hand him the pretty flowers and offer to help load them into his car, he only accepts to talk to you longer if we’re being honest.

Prohero!katsuki who just doesn’t wanna say goodbye yet. “hey uh..I know ma wouldn’t mind if you went for dinner with us, if you don’t got plans that is.” he mumbles and glances around overwhelmed with nerves at your possible rejection.

Prohero!katsuki who lights up when you excitedly scream, “oh my gosh yes! thank you that’s so sweet..” and offers you a ride there, promising to bring you back after dinner so you can get your car and drive home.

Prohero!katsuki who is already smitten with the cute florist girl once again, and gets relentlessly teased by his mother when he walks through the door with her.

Prohero!katsuki who seriously hopes a sweet girl like you will welcome him back into your life, he’ll even help promote your shop if you let him. he just wants the cute florist girl to be just as down bad as he is.

a/n; guys pls this is cute (I think.) give it a chance…

[draconeko]

I just arrived and I apologize in advance if I write a lot of text but omg I like to explain what's on my mind even if there's no need @asperanna @jonksi @onionowt @nanomii @rainbigbrain @ejsuperstar @ebi-skycotl ( You don't have to read my ramblings but I put the tags anyway )

Pluto is a mix of orange, skrunkly and smol. The kind of cat that I would totally hold in my hands but end up with a bitten finger. They are funny, they talk a lot and I find them very authentic, the kind that you imagine running energetically around you and their motivation rubs off on you, when I met them I thought they were more chill but I never felt disappointed for being wrong

Jojo/Kitty/Catofaurora I would say is a mix of Loaf and skrunkly, she is very funny, she makes you feel welcome, she is understanding and her humor always makes me laugh, she always has some joke to make about some random post. You can tell she has a good heart, that's why she is a loaf to me, I wouldn't be here if she hadn't found me.

Onion, nanomii and Rain were definitely (maybe still are) Tux, but now that I've interacted with them they're more of a mix of Tux and other cats

Regarding Rain, I agree with Pluto, they're totally a cloud, they're chill, they're calming and friendly, probably introverted like most of us, but they're the perfect person to talk to when you have an anxious mind.

Onion is a shorthair! Outside of admiration, I always remember the post that talked about their studies, I've always perceived them as someone who has worked very hard but is unable to notice how much their effort has paid off. As a person they seem very soft to me, maybe that's why the hug, must protect?

Nano is smol, we're both too anxious to even talk, we probably want to but we don't know how, if you read this nano, I appreciate you just for leaving little messages on rbs

EJ would say they're smol too, maybe smol creature? they are right in the middle where they are not chill enough to be a cloud, but not chaotic enough to be orange or skrunkly. It's a balance that I find very curious. I can't describe this with cats but I find them very full of passion, I admire people who are passionate about the things they like (even if it's just a hyperfixation). Basically a person that makes me very curious but I'm not sure how to interact

Ebi, Ebi is Loaf and shorthair, they makes me feel cuteness aggression, very soft, very gentle, a good listener not only to friends but to total strangers, sometimes very altruistic too. It's a surprise that there's so much evil for their ocs in their heart, I can expect it from Ari, from pluto, bohap or aria, but ebi… Anyway I still remember what they wrote when thet made the drawing of the deer of the nine colors, I think it's something that totally stuck in my memory and I don't know why.

I hope I haven't forgotten anyone, I'm sure I can assign a cat to some other mutuals but right now my mind isn't bringing them up.

WHAT KINDA CAT ARE YOUR MUTUALS

I REALLY WANNA SIT HERE AMD GO THROUGH TAGGING EVERYONE BUT I HAVE TO GO TO BED NOW SO I’LL DO SO TOMORROW!!!

[yan-randomfandom]

Jinx x GN!Thief!Reader

getting chased by your victims—the people you stole from—you stumble into one of the most iconic figure in Zaun. wait, what the fuck—is that Jinx??

→ one shot, first meeting, violence, flirtatious MC 😭

🔵 ; act 3 js stabbed me btw

"Holy shit!! Move away! Move away, move away!!"

Before Jinx can even blink, she's slammed to the ground with tangling limbs. A choked groan escapes her lips as she quickly looks up to see you. Intense blue eyes deliriously captures all of your attention.

You stare back at her, eyes widening.

"...You're gorgeous," you blurt.

Her eyes narrow in a split second. Without warning, you swiftly rise to your feet and start running away. A few more thumping sounds follow, but Jinx is too fixated to watch your retreating figure.

"And I'm sooorrrrryyyyyyyy—!!" you yell, your voice growing fainter and fainter.

Jinx stands up.

A clicking sound stops her from moving. Something is pressed against her back.

"You an apprentice?" a gruff voice asks. The object—she guesses it's a gun—digs further into her top.

She sighs.

Turns around so fast they couldn't even react.

Her hand is raised. Fingers readily posed for a trigger.

...

Wait.

Where in the absolute fuck is her gun?

She drops her empty hand and taps on her pockets, feeling within. Empty. Empty. Empty.

Oh, shit. You didn't apologize for falling onto her.

The three massive men exchange confused looks. One shrugs and nudges the other. About to do a move, a long groan suddenly rings out.

Jinx pulls under her eyes in frustration. "God. You people are amateurs!"

She's already out of there. Her feet are running through the ground. Light, swift, and desperate. Inhumanly fast. The polluted breeze hits her face. How the hell did you do that? Right under her fucking nose.

Granted, she can always make another handgun and earn more money—but you had the blue crystals.

It's not like she'll have a hard time finding you, anyway.

You left trails of your muddy steps.

"There she is!"

A sharp exhale.

In one lucky move, Jinx manages to knock out all of the offenders. They all come crashing down on top of each other. Thank God for that loose pole.

There. She got rid of the nuisances. Turning, she prepares her heel—

"Woah."

You whistle loudly. Jinx snaps her head toward your direction. Just sitting above the rooftop apartments. "Gotta say, you're amazin', lady."

With a tilt of her head, she stares immensely at the weapon in your grasp. You handle it poorly by holding the tip with two fingers. Almost like it's worthless junk.

" ... That's mine," says Jinx.

"Yours?" you imitate her action, cocking your head to the side. Your lips pull a teasing smile. "Lowkey sounds hot. Can I be yours, too?"

She studies your face for a moment before a smirk of her own shows up. "Sure can. But my attractiveness kills people. Just gimme back my stuff, will ya?"

You laugh, humming, taking your sweet time to study her weapons. The blue glow in particular has your half-hearted attention. "Y'know, I've never seen anythin' like this before."

"Hah," Jinx crosses her arms, her grin widening. "Course ya didn't. I made it. Consider it an honor you even got to touch it, let alone look at it."

You pause at her words. Then take another look at the gun.

"You made this?" you say incredulously, an eyebrow arching. "Huh. That sounds a lot like somethin' Jinx would do."

Slight movement next to you. You turn, freezing at the sight of the bluenette sitting beside you.

She takes the chance to casually take the gun from your hand. There's an unimpressed look on her face.

"Guess what?"

You stare back, chuckling sheepishly. How is it that you've worked for Silco himself a few times, but have never met Jinx before?

" ... At least I'll die at the hands of a beautiful woman."

Jinx slaps your head. You let out a small cry, rubbing the sore spot. "I know who you are, moron. Silco's looking for you."

"Oh," you mutter, digging into your bag. "I should, uh, probably give your wallet back too."

🩵

I WANTED THIS TO BE MORE... hang on-- also my bad if reader sounds like a creep i swear that isnt my intention 😭 lemme know tho

"I won't complain if you explode me here rn,, heh..."

"dude shut the fuck up i said im sparing you"

"I bet you're real impressed by my swiping skills tho"

"honestly? yeah sure"

[writetheidea]

Too Much to Be Enough - part 2

Hi, I wrote the second part of this fanfiction while juggling my thesis, so I apologize if there are any mistakes. Please feel free to point them out in my DMs or asks—I'd really appreciate it. I couldn't bring myself to just write pure fluff without adding a bit of angst. As I mentioned in the story, rebuilding trust isn't a straightforward process. I hope you enjoy it!

Part 1

Pairing: Franco Colapinto x female character

Plot: after deeply hurting his girlfriend, Franco learns how hard it is to rebuild their relationship, learning that trust, once broken, is a delicate and painstaking process to restore.

Tag: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff.

Word count: 3178

Disclaimers: english is not my first language - I feel like you could tell from my writing style - so I apologize if some of the sentences structures are off, or if I use outdated or inappropriate-for-the-context words, I used a synonym dictionary to try and stop myself from repeating the same words, I still did do that though.

Franco had always been a man of control. On the racetrack, precision wasn’t just a skill; it was survival. Every turn, every decision, required complete mastery over chaos. Off the track, he wasn’t much different, carrying that same calculated demeanor into his personal life. The way he managed his career, his relationships, even the smallest aspects of his daily routine, all reflected his need to remain unshakable. Control was his armor, his identity. But this—watching the woman he loved drift further away because of his carelessness—was a storm he couldn’t navigate.

He had made a mistake. A single moment of thoughtlessness, a few careless words, the laughter that followed, had been enough to tear open the foundation of trust they had spent years building. The memory replayed endlessly in his mind, gnawing at him like a relentless tide. He could see it all too clearly: the way her face fell, how her voice quivered when she confronted him. She hadn’t screamed or shouted; she hadn’t even cried at first. She had just gone quiet, her silence heavier than any words could have been. It spoke of wounds too deep for words, a disappointment that no apology could touch.

At first, he had thought the tension might dissipate after a day or two. He had underestimated the depth of the wound he had inflicted. What followed was a purgatory of silence. She didn’t leave outright, but her presence was a ghost of what it had been. She avoided his touch, his gaze, even his attempts at conversation. The vibrant, warm woman he loved so fiercely had become a shadow, navigating their shared spaces like a stranger. Franco’s every attempt to bridge the gap between them fell flat—flowers went untouched, her favorite pastries remained uneaten, and the small notes he left for her disappeared without acknowledgment. It was as though she was erasing him piece by piece, and he could do nothing to stop it.

The silence was unbearable. He missed her laughter, the way she would light up when she spoke about her favorite books or dreams for the future. He missed the way she would reach for him instinctively, as though he was her safe harbor. Now, he felt like a trespasser in his own life, each moment with her a painful reminder of what he had broken. 

On the third night after the fight, Franco found himself sitting on their couch, his hands clasped tightly together. The room felt impossibly large, every corner of it carrying memories of better times. He could picture her curled up on the other side of the couch, her laughter filling the space as she recounted some silly anecdote or read him a passage from one of her favorite books. Now, the silence was deafening. He had spent hours going over what he might say to her, how he might begin to repair what he had broken, but words failed him.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Please,” he said softly, his voice trembling. “I can’t stand this. Tell me what to do—tell me how to make this right.”

She didn’t even look at him, her gaze fixed somewhere distant. “What’s the point?” she said quietly. “You’ve already shown me what you think of me. You agreed with them, Franco. You laughed at me like I was a joke.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt the full weight of her hurt settle over him. “That’s not true,” he said desperately. “I wasn’t thinking—”

“No,” she interrupted, finally turning to face him, her eyes flashing with rare anger. “You weren’t thinking. But that doesn’t change what you said. Or what you did.” Her voice cracked, and for the first time, Franco could see just how deeply he had hurt her. “Do you even understand how small that made me feel? Like I was some kind of joke? Like I’ll never be enough for you?” 

She paused, her face now showing the pain she had been harboring beneath the surface “What else do you want me to say, Franco? That I’m hurt? That I feel like I’ll never be enough for you now? You already know that”

Her words cut deeper than any insult, the quiet resignation in her voice tearing him apart. “You are enough,” he said fervently, reaching for her hand. “You’ve always been enough. I was stupid, careless—I didn’t mean what I said.”

“But you did,” she replied, pulling her hand away. “Maybe you didn’t mean for me to hear it, but you meant it. And I can’t unhear it, Franco. I can’t forget the way you agreed with them, the way you laughed about me like I was some… inconvenience.”

Her voice broke on the last word, and Franco felt his chest tighten, guilt clawing at him like a relentless tide. “I love you,” he said desperately. “I love everything about you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I can’t lose you.”

She looked at him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face as if trying to find some trace of the man she had once trusted so completely. “Love isn’t supposed to hurt like this,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “And right now, being with you… it hurts.”

His throat tightened as he searched for words, but there was nothing he could say that would undo the damage. “You are everything to me,” he said finally, his voice raw. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it if I have to.”

-----

But words weren’t enough, and he knew it. That night, she moved to the guest room, leaving their bed and a gaping void in his heart. He lay awake for hours, staring at the ceiling and replaying every moment he had failed her, every time he had taken her love for granted. He thought of her kindness, her patience, the way she had always believed in him, even when he doubted himself. And now, when she needed him most, he had failed to be the man she deserved.

The next morning, he woke to find her gone. A note on the counter said she was staying with a friend for a few days. He stared at the words until they blurred, his chest aching with the realization that she needed space from him—that being near him caused her pain. He couldn’t blame her for that, but it didn’t make it any easier to bear.

He threw himself into trying to make amends, even if she wasn’t there to see it. He cleaned the apartment from top to bottom, cooked her favorite meals, and set the table with candles and fresh flowers every day, hoping it might offer a small measure of comfort when she returned. The evening when she finally walked through the door, she paused, her eyes scanning the room before landing on him.

“What’s all this?” she asked, her voice wary.

“I thought we could have dinner together,” he said, his voice hesitant. “I know it doesn’t fix anything, but I thought… I just wanted to do something for you.”

She hesitated for a moment before sitting down at the table. They ate in near silence, the tension between them almost unbearable. He tried to ask about her day, her friend, anything to fill the void, but her answers were curt, her gaze fixed on her plate. By the time they finished, Franco felt more defeated than ever.

As she stood to leave, he reached for her hand, his grip gentle but firm. “Please. I’ll do whatever it takes,” he said. “Just tell me how to make this better.”

She looked down at him, her eyes filled with exhaustion. “I don’t know if you can,” she said softly. “But if you want to try, then stop looking for shortcuts. This isn’t about flowers or dinners. It’s about showing me that I matter to you—not just when it’s easy, but when it’s hard. It’s about showing me—every day—that you love me for who I am, not despite it.”

-----

From that moment on, Franco dedicated himself to proving his love, not through grand gestures but in the quiet, unremarkable moments of daily life. He began paying attention to the things she cared about—remembering the books she mentioned wanting to read, making sure her favorite tea was always stocked in the pantry, and taking over chores she usually handled so she wouldn’t have to. He didn’t push her to talk or try to force her forgiveness; instead, he gave her the space she needed, even when it hurt to keep his distance.

The process was slow and often discouraging. There were days when she barely acknowledged his efforts, her walls still firmly in place. But there were also small victories—like the time she laughed, a soft, unguarded sound that felt like sunlight breaking through the clouds. Or the day she found a note he had left in her book that simply said, “I see you. And I love you.” She didn’t say anything about it, but later that evening, she made them tea and sat beside him on the couch, the silence between them no longer quite so heavy.

-----

Franco thought he was making progress. Slowly but surely, she was beginning to let him in again. The walls she’d built around herself were still there, but they had started to crack. She smiled a little more often, lingered at the dinner table to talk about her day, and once, when they were watching an old movie on the couch, she leaned into him without pulling away. Each small step felt monumental, and Franco held onto the hope that one day, she might fully trust him again.

But trust, he learned, was fragile.

It happened at a party—a glamorous event hosted by one of Franco’s sponsors. He had been reluctant to go, worried about the strain it might put on their delicate truce, but she had insisted. “You shouldn’t have to give up your life because of me,” she said. He had taken her words as a sign that things were improving between them, a sign that she was ready to be part of his world again.

The evening started well enough. She looked stunning in a sleek, dark dress, her hair framing her face. Franco couldn’t take his eyes off her, and for a moment, he felt like the luckiest man in the room. They mingled with the crowd, exchanging polite pleasantries with sponsors and fellow racers. She held her own beautifully, her sharp wit and quiet confidence earning smiles and laughter from everyone she spoke to.

Then came the moment that undid everything.

Franco had stepped away to get them drinks, and when he returned, he overheard a group of men making crude jokes about her. The words were vile—reducing her to nothing more than a pretty accessory, a trophy to be paraded around. Franco’s blood boiled, but instead of stepping in to defend her, he froze. He laughed awkwardly, muttered something dismissive, and walked away.

What he didn’t realize was that she had overheard, her expression a mask of disbelief and hurt as she stood just out of view.

Later that night, as they drove home, the tension in the car was suffocating. She stared out the window, silent, her arms crossed tightly across her chest. Franco tried to fill the void with small talk, but each word felt hollow.

Finally, she turned to him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, though he already knew.

“I heard them, Franco. I heard what they said about me. And I heard you laugh. Again.”

His hands tightened on the steering wheel. “It wasn’t like that,” he said quickly. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean what? To defend me? To show them that I’m more than the joke they made me out to be?” Her voice cracked, and she turned away, shaking her head. “I thought you were different. I thought you respected me.”

“I do respect you,” he said, his voice rising. “I didn’t know what to say—I panicked.”

“Panicked?” she repeated, her voice dripping with disbelief. “I was standing there, Franco. Listening to them degrade me, waiting for you to have my back. And you panicked?”

The argument spilled into their apartment, growing louder and more painful with each passing moment. By the time it was over, she was packing a bag, tears streaming down her face as she threw clothes into a suitcase.

“Please don’t do this,” Franco said, his voice raw. “Don’t leave. We can fix this.”

She stopped, her hands trembling as she gripped the edge of the suitcase. “You don’t get it, do you?” she said, her voice shaking. “This isn’t just about tonight. It’s about every time you’ve made me feel small, every time you’ve chosen your pride or your reputation over me. I can’t do this anymore.”

And with that, she was gone.

-----

The months that followed were the darkest of Franco’s life. She didn’t answer his calls or texts, and when he went to her friend’s house to see her, he was turned away at the door. For the first time, he had to confront the possibility that he might have lost her for good.

Franco threw himself into therapy, desperate to understand why he kept sabotaging the one thing that mattered most to him. His sessions were grueling, forcing him to confront parts of himself he had long ignored—the insecurities he buried beneath his arrogance, the fear of vulnerability that drove him to push people away.

He also began writing her letters, pouring his heart onto the page in a way he had never been able to do in person. He didn’t know if she would ever read them, but it was the only way he could process his feelings.

Months passed. Slowly, Franco began to change—not for her, but for himself. He realized that he couldn’t ask her to come back if he wasn’t willing to become the man she deserved.

Then, one day, he received an unexpected text.

“Meet me at the park tomorrow at 2.”

His heart leapt, but he forced himself to temper his expectations. When he arrived, she was sitting on a bench, her posture stiff, her expression guarded.

“I got your letters,” she said, her voice quiet.

“And?” he asked, his heart pounding.

“They were… honest,” she admitted. “But honesty doesn’t erase what happened.”

“I know,” he said. “I don’t expect you to forgive me—not yet, maybe not ever. But I want you to know that I’m trying. I’m working on myself, and not just because I want you back. I need to be better, for me. For whoever I become, with or without you.”

She studied him for a long moment, her eyes searching his face. “I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she said finally. “But I’m willing to try. Slowly. On my terms.”

“I’ll wait as long as it takes,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-----

True to her word, she made Franco work for her trust. There were no shortcuts, no grand declarations that could fix what was broken. If he wanted to be in her life again, he had to earn his place every single day.

Their relationship became a fragile thread, held together by small, cautious interactions. They started meeting once a week for coffee, their conversations polite but distant. She kept him at arm’s length, her walls firmly in place. Franco didn’t push; he simply showed up, week after week, ready to prove himself.

One day, as they walked through the park after coffee, she turned to him abruptly. “Why didn’t you stand up for me?” she asked, her voice trembling.

The question caught him off guard, but he didn’t shy away from it. “Because I was afraid,” he admitted. “Afraid of looking weak, afraid of being judged. But mostly… afraid that if I stood up for you and got it wrong, you’d see me as a failure.”

Her eyes softened, but her expression remained guarded. “And now?”

“Now I realize that failing you is worse than failing in front of anyone else,” he said. “If I ever get the chance again, I promise you, I won’t let you down.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze distant. “We’ll see.”

The weeks turned into months, and their connection began to deepen again. She started sharing more of herself, though cautiously, and Franco matched her vulnerability with his own. He told her about the therapy sessions, about the childhood insecurities that had shaped his need for control and approval. It was a side of him she had never seen before, and while it didn’t erase the past, it gave her hope that he was truly changing.

-----

It wasn’t a single moment that brought them back together, but a series of small ones—acts of kindness, vulnerability, and unwavering support. Franco became a man she could rely on, not just in words but in actions. He stood up for her, prioritized her needs, and made her feel seen and valued in every aspect of their lives.

There were moments when he doubted himself, wondering if he was fighting a losing battle. And there were nights when he lay awake, haunted by the memory of her tears, the sound of her voice breaking as she told him how much he had hurt her. Through it all, he held onto the hope that one day, she would see how much he loved her—that she would believe it, not because he said it, but because he showed it in every action, every choice he made.

One rainy afternoon, he decided to try something different. He pulled out a cookbook she had always loved but rarely used and flipped to a page with a recipe for her favorite cake. He was hopeless in the kitchen, but he wanted to try—to show her that he was willing to make an effort, no matter how small. When she came home and found him fumbling with ingredients, the sight stopped her in her tracks.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice tinged with incredulity.

“Trying to make your cake,” he said, holding up a whisk like it was a weapon. “It’s probably going to be terrible, but I thought—”

She interrupted him with a soft laugh. “You’re going to burn the kitchen down.”

“Maybe,” he said, grinning sheepishly. “But I figured it was worth the risk.”

She stepped toward him, closing the distance that had felt insurmountable for so long. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, but her tone was warm, her eyes soft as she reached for the whisk. “Let me help you.”

As they cooked together, bumping elbows and laughing at his mistakes, Franco felt something shift. It wasn’t complete trust—not yet—but it was a beginning. And as he watched her smile, he realized that this was what love was: not grand gestures or perfect moments, but showing up, every day, and choosing each other even when it was hard.

[myth1cs]

That one back Tattoo (Son Chaeyoung x M!Reader)

I swear I'm working on that F!Reader fic. This is smut ... Sorry? (Should I still bother apologizing or...) Word Count: 2,088

Sitting at the bar with my girlfriend Dahyun was something that always made me happy.

"Y/N you're so silly sometimes!"

Dahyun was drunk enough to the point that anything was funny to her. I should have cut her off sooner but seeing her like this was just so cute. "Come on Dahyun lets go home."

"I don't want to go yet Y/N-yah! Can I get another shot?" I giggled at her question. "Come on Dahyun I think you've had a bit too much to drink." I had to pick up Dahyun and carry her back to our apartment. She showed little protest by lightly hitting me on my chest.

"I don't want to leave yet Y/N!"

Having to put up with a drunk Dahyun's protest was something I got used to after a few nights out. Luckily her sleepiness eventually got the best of her and she was sleeping in my arms.

Arriving back at the hotel I went in the elevator to get to our apartment on the third floor. But before the door closed another woman entered the elevator with us.

She was a rather short woman. Her clothes didn't leave much to the imagination. She was showing a lot of ski-

"Are you going to press the button or should I?"

I was quickly pulled out of my thoughts. Must've been staring for too long. "O-oh r-right you can press it first." She nodded at me and clicked on the button for the third floor. "What a coincidence we're on the same floor."

"Really? Well what are the chances of that? You know some people don't think things happen by "coincidence" do you?"

A rather odd question to ask but I guess I'll entertain her thought process. "Well I think some things are meant to happen but I don't think that everything that happens in our life is set by the universe or whatever."

"By the way who's that girl you're carrying."

"She's my girlfriend."

She hummed at my response and the elevator door opened. "Well if you'd like to discuss further you can come to my room at 308."

"Room 308? That's right next to my room 307!" Seriously? What are the chances my and this girl I just met are neighbors?

"Well who knows maybe it's a sign from the universe. By the way I never got your name."

"It's Y/N, and yours?"

"You can call me Chaeyoung. Anyways you better get going carrying your girlfriend must be tiring."

Once she said that she left for her room and I went into my apartment. When I got in I placed Dahyun on the couch and covered her up with a blanket.

I wasn't able to get Chaeyoung out of my mind. She was so attractive her tattoos, small figure, and those lips of hers were such a turn on. No wait what am I thinking?! Dahyun is my girlfriend I shouldn't be thinking of other women like this.

Feeling my cock get hard I went to the bathroom in order to relieve myself. Pulling down my pants and grabbing a hold of my cock I started to work on relieving myself. "Ugh ~ ah ~ Chaeyoung you're such a damn bad influence. You're making me have thoughts of cheating on my girlfriend because of you!"

Eventually I was able to cum and quickly started to work on cleaning up the mess I had just made.

-

I've been avoiding Chaeyoung for the past few days. Seeing her makes me think of inappropriate thoughts. I can't help but think how warm her pussy must feel. I bet she could suck my dick so well. Agh! Damn it why am I thinking of it again.

I suddenly bumped into someone.

"Shit sorry my bad I wasn't watching where I was going."

"Y/N is that you?"

Looking at the person I bumped into I realized it was Chaeyoung. Shit

"Oh sorry Chaeyoung I have to go-"

Suddenly she grabbed my arm and turned me around so I was facing her. My face was getting warmer and I can only hope she didn't notice.

"Hold on Y/N what's the rush? And why have you been ignoring me for the past few days?"

"Chaeyoung it's complicated."

"Want to talk about it?"

I shouldn't do it. Everything points to me not agreeing with her. I have a loving girlfriend already. No I can't say yes I can't!

But before I could even answer Chaeyoung started to drag me along with her. I wasn't able to get any words out so I just went along with her for the time.

Eventually we arrived at the front of her apartment. She grabbed her keys and unlocked the door. Her room was mostly similar to the one me and Dahyun had except her room was a bit more bare than ours.

She dragged me to her couch and sat me down. Chaeyoung sat next to me and crossed her arms.

"Y/N I don't understand why you've been ignoring me. If you didn't like our first interaction and didn't want to talk to me that's one thing but I feel as if you're purposely going out of your way to ignore me!"

I looked at Chaeyoung in the eyes. Should I tell her? No that's stupid and would be pretty awkward. What would I even say "Yeah the reason I've been ignoring you is because I just get thoughts of cheating on my girlfriend with you."

"I just thought you were a little weird. I didn't want to associate myself with you." A bit rude but I needed Chaeyoung to also get away from me. If she also starts to distance herself from me it would make my life way easier.

"That's a bit rude Y/N. But thank you for telling me even if it does hurt my feelings."

"Yeah, sorry Chaeyoung."

I got up to leave her apartment as silence fell between us. But before I could go she suddenly spoke up.

"Wait before you leave do you at least want to have lunch with me?"

I guess I owe her one. I mean I did say something quite rude to her just now I could at least make up for it by staying over for lunch.

"Sure"

Chaeyoung nodded and got up to go to the kitchen. I couldn't help but stare at her butt as she walked there.

"Do you have any preferences or allergies you want me to be aware of Y/N?"

"No, anything's fine."

She started to cook up something. I sat in silence as I watched her cook. While Chaeyoung was cooking she bent over making her shirt slide up.

I saw her exposed back which had a tattoo. Something about it was interesting to me.

"Why did you get that back tattoo Chaeyoung?"

"Found it interesting. Why, you want to get a closer look Y/N?" She gave me a certain look. If I didn't know any better I would say she's trying to tease me.

My face started to warm up. "Uhm ... kinda."

Chaeyoung started to walk up to me. Her hips swayed in a rhythm that kept me hooked.

She sat down on the couch with her back facing me. She took off her shirt exposing her bra. "Go on Y/N inspect the tattoo to your hearts content."

I felt my whole body get warm.

I put my finger on her back tattoo,I traced the outline. It was quite an interesting design. "What's it called?"

"The birth of evil. You know Y/N I have more tattoos but I'd have to strip for you to see them."

"Well what's stopping you?" I asked more as a joke.

"Absolutely nothing." Chaeyoung turned around facing me before she started stripping off her remaining pieces of clothing. Her body was more attractive than I originally thought. I couldn't focus on her tattoos and was only able to focus on her body.

"Y/N my tattoos aren't on my chest."

"I - uhm - agh." I tried coming up with an excuse but I wasn't able to think of one. My cock was starting to get hard and I tried to quickly hide it before Chaeyoung noticed.

Suddenly she put her hands over mine. "Mmm Y/N I heard you moaning my name the night we met. I'm telling you our meeting was fate."

Chaeyoung grabbed my hand covering my extremely hard cock and removed ir. She let out a coo "It's so big. I wonder how it'll look when it's free."

I started to panic as she started to pull my pants down. I shouldn't even be here when I have Dahyun. But a part of me wants this moment to never end.

My cock sprung out of its constraints and Chaeyoung licked her lips. "My my Y/N a bit eager to cheat on your girlfriend aren't you?" I wasn't able to form words because I knew she was right. I really wanted her.

"Go ahead and kiss me you little play boy."

I latched my lips onto Chaeyoung's perfect lips. They were so soft and perfect for me. Chaeyoung took my shirt off and moved her hands to my chest and pinched my nipples.

"Ouch Chaeng that hurt." I muffled into her lips. Though she didn't listen and only pinched harder.

She started to rub her hands all over my body. "Ah! Ah! Your hands are so perfect!"

I took my lips off of hers and started to move them down to her small breasts. They were a little bit bigger than Dahyun's but not by much. I put my tongue on her nipple and swirled it around and used my other hand to squeeze her other tit.

Chaeyoung moved her hands down to my cock and swirled her thumb on the tip. Some cum started to leak out and it helped her pick up the pace.

"Oh Chaeng your so damn good at this."

"Am I better than your girlfriend?"

Me and Dahyun have never had sex before and I didn't want to admit that I was still a virgin to her.

"Uhm - you're getting there."

Chaeyoung smiled at me "Judging by your long pause I'm guessing you're a virgin. Don't worry I'll be gentle."

She pushed me onto my back and put her mouth around my cock. "Mhm it tastes good. Virgins cocks always taste the best." I felt myself losing control over her words. She was slowly swirling her tongue on my tip and sucked really gently.

I used my hands to push her head down and Chaeyoung took my full length. "Yes just like that Chaeyoung." My cock hit the back of her throat and her muscles tightened around it.

Her saliva coated my whole cock. I started to push her head up and down on my cock roughly. Tears fell down Chaeyoung's eyes as she face fucked me.

Pulling her off my cock she started gasping for air. "Chaeyoung I want to feel your tight pussy on my cock."

"Y/N ... you're so horney! Is your girlfriend that pathetic?"

"Dahyun has never wanted to have sex with me."

"Poor baby Y/N. You deserve to release all of your cum." Chaeyoung got up and aligned her pussy to my cock. She lowered herself engulfing it all in her small tight pussy.

"You're so damn tight Chaeyoung!"

"Now Y/N let me show you what your girlfriend has been depriving you of." Chaeyoung started moving up and down. Her fluids were now all over my cock. I reached for her small and soft butt and started to give them a light squeeze.

Chaeyoung yelped at my sudden movement but went along with it. I started to squeeze harder leaving red marks on her butt. "I'm going to cum inside of you!"

"Yes Y/N fill me up with your thick semen!"

I spanked her ass hard and unloaded a long thick stream of cum inside of her. Chaeyoung's eyes started rolling back. "It's so warm Y/N!"

After 10 seconds the stream stopped and Chaeyoung collapsed on the couch. "Y/N do you believe me now? Our meeting was fate."

"I believe you Chaeng. But we have to keep this under wraps I don't want Dahyun to find out about us."

"Fine by me Y/N my lips are sealed. Just make sure to come visit me every now and then."

I collapsed on her and hugged her naked body and we both fell asleep.

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

I don't know if people prefer 1st or 3rd person writing so I'll just alternate between the both of them.

Anyways enjoy Chaeyoung, I'm facing delays so I don't think I'll have something up anytime soon but I'll try to finish the Thanksgiving smut on time.

[dreamsteddie]

AITA Steddie Au Part Three

Part Two

Hello! Sorry for the delay! This week was very busy with student conferences and my own midterms so I haven't had a lot of time to work on this. This is more of an interlude building up to bigger things, but I hope you enjoy it!

Also! Get in the comments if you have any ideas of an actual name for this series so I can stop calling it AITA Steeddie Au. I can't think of anything good 😓

------

Eddie takes Steve on that second date.

And then a third and a fourth and eventually he stops counting because he's seeing Steve as often as he can between their jobs and other responsibilities. He feels high off it, giddy with possibility and hope for this new thing that he's never had before.

Eddie has done relationships before, a couple of times. A small handful of boys and girls he took out on dates and tried his best to woo all went up in flames one way or another, but none of those relationships left him feeling so gone so fast. He felt like he was always holding himself back from giving himself up completely, too afraid of falling without a safety net to reach for that deep devotion he's always craved.

Steve makes him feel like they're plunging into that unknown together.

Still, no matter how much he's been trying to avoid it, the looming specter of what the hell to do about his friends is looming over his head.

------

"Are you fucking serious right now dude?" Eddie asks, a complicated mix of righteous anger, humiliation for himself and Steve, and complete disbelief at Gareth's unwillingness to back down from this making it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Steve is like, the complete antithesis of literally everything we stand for. He's a nepo baby business major who's never had an original thought in his life! I would know! I've read one of his papers." Gareth says, forced nonchalance coloring his tone and riling Eddie up even more.

He rears up, shoulders pushing back and hands grasping at the air like he could pull down his frustration from the either and condense it into a solid ball he could lob at Garteth's head to finally knock some goddamn sense into his brain.

"Hey, hey, hey. Okay, Eddie, I'm really sorry about this. It was a fucked up idea, I don't know what we were thinking." Jeff interveins before the frustrated banshy noises Eddie is letting out turn into another yelling match that won't get anyone anywhere.

"I think we just got too caught up wanting to help you get out of this rut and it all turned into something completely insane. You don't gotta forgive us Eddie, but if there's anything we can do to try and make up for it, we'll do it. Isn't that right Gareth?" Jeff pointedly asked with a look that says agree with me right now or else.

Gareth doesn't say anything.

The thing about all of this that Eddie just can't wrap his head around is the why. Why would his friends, his sheepies, do something so cruel? He knows none of them have ever looked kindly at people like Steve. Too many traumatizing high school humiliations behind them all to trust when someone who looks so much like all the guys who bullied them in high school tries to reach out, but Gareth and Jeff have never tried something like this. In fact, it's used to be Eddie doing most of the anti-jock revenge planning back in the day, even if nothing ever actually came from it.

He thought, incorrectly it seems, that they had grown out of the worst of it by now. It's been three years since Garteth graduated, and five since Eddie made his final attempt, and leaving their hometown behind did a lot to heal old hurts.

So why this? Why now?

"Is this seriously how it's going to be man? You won't tell me what the fuck any of this was really about and you're not even going to try and apologize? Seriously?" The righteous anger is starting to seep out of him, leaving behind a bone-deep exhaustion.

Gareth just continues to stare at him defiantly, not saying a word.

Eddie pinches his nose and takes a deep breath, "You know what? Fine. Whatever. If this is how it's going to be then I'm out. Jeff, I'll talk to you later, probably not for a little bit though. Gareth?" The other man lifts his head from where he'd been looking down at his shoes. There were tears in his eyes, just a little bit but enough for Eddie to clock it. Face red from some unnamed cocktail of emotions Eddie doesn't have the energy or desire to interrogate right now. "Call me when you're ready to grow the fuck up. I've got a second date to plan."

With that, Eddie turned on his heel and made for the open garage door.

"What about the band, man?!" Gareth called.

Eddie kept walking.

-------

That was over four weeks ago.

He hasn't spoken to Gareth for most of that time. The first couple of days he blew up his phone with angry to half-apologizing texts that Eddie promptly ignored. After the second day, he sent a single text back letting him know he didn't want to talk unless he had a real explanation and apology to give both him and Steve and that he was going to block his number for a little while. He could let Freak know if he was ever ready to talk like adults. Eddie trusted him to tell if Gareth was being genuine.

In other news.

Waking up to strong arms secured around his naked waist is fast becoming Eddie's favorite way to start the day. He and Steve slept together for the first time last week, and since then it's like neither of them can get enough of each other.

"Hey, baby." Steve rasps in his ear, tilting his head down to smear sleepy kisses onto his shoulder. The hand that was resting against his ribs meanders its way down to the trail of hair under his navel, scratching just a little and making Eddie feel like a contented mutt. He's not sure if he should feel horny or like he could sink into the mattress and sleep for another full 8 if Steve keeps holding him like his.

"Mornin' sweetheart." he says deciding that a couple more hours of sleep is definitely the way to go. Steve, it seems, has other idead.

"What you thinkin' about this early in the morning?" He asks, hand continuing to scratch lazily at Eddie's stomach like he's not completely destroying Eddie's will and ability to focus on anything but the warm body behind him.

But it's been a long time coming, and as much as he doesn't want to, Eddie needs to start thinking about what he wants to do about his friends? former friends? estranged family? band and Steve deserves to be a part of the conversation.

Eddie sits up, bringing Steve up with him to rest against the headboard. "I've been thinking about the band. Gareth and Jeff, that is." He pauses, waits for some kind of reaction that doesn't come. Steve looks concerned, but not in the way he thought he would.

"Ok." Steve responds, waiting for more.

"I guess I just don't know what to do." He looks out into the middle distance of Steve's bedroom. Takes in the display of swim, basketball, and baseball trophies displayed proudly on a shelf, catching the early morning light. "I'm still so fucking mad. It's honestly kind of irritating how mad it makes me to think of what they did. It was so fucking stupid."

Steve hums a little, letting Eddie get it out.

"But at the same time I can't help but fucking miss them. Miss the music and the campaigns and everything else." It's honestly been eating him alive, the mix of anger and longing he's been feeling for his friends. The constant longing to go back in time and stop them from concocting this shit show but also, like, stalk Gareth to his 8 AM Business class so he can run into Steve and they can fall in love at first sight or some shit.

Silence.

Steve shifts. Moves so he can look Eddie right in the face. He looks thoughtful in a way that Eddie had to get used to. Sometimes when Steve is thinking hard about something, he scrunches his face in such a way that it makes him look like he's judging you. He isn't, it's just an unfortunate fact of life that his baby has a resting Judgemental Face���.

Steve heaves out a big breath, bringing Eddie back down to earth. "I mean, I don't want to, like, cloud your judgement or whatever but maybe you should try and talk to them one more time. Jeff appologized right?"

And, ok that's definetly not what Eddie was expecting to hear. It must show on his face because Steve is suddenly looking away, embaraced.

"I just..." He trails off, taking his own turn staring out at the dull shine of his old acomplishments. Eddie watches as his face once again turns pensive as he stares harder at the remnents of his high school acheivements.

"I used to be a pretty shitty guy. Did the same kind of shit your buddies did a couple of times." This isn't necessarily news to Eddie. They've talked a little about who Steve was in high school and how much work he put into himself before he decided to go back to college. It's still a bit of a shock to hear, though.

"So I get how someone can make a mistake like that, y'know? So if you want to try and talk it out, I won't be offended. I know we're in this together, now." Peace said, Steve reaches for Eddie's hand and gives it a squeeze.

It hits Eddie again, just how good Steve Harrington is. It hasn't been long, not really, since they got together but they've fallen together so completley, so easily, that it's easy to forget that there's still so much they have to learn, so many layers for Eddie to peal back. Behind every judgemental remark and complaint about the frequent phone calls he gets from chuldren he used to babysit in his hometown is a man who cares deeply and is capable of great forgiveness, even if it hasn't been earned yet.

Eddie squeezes his hand back.

"Are you sure?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah, it's not we have to totally forgive them, right? But I think you need to get a real answer from both of them about why it happened. Maybe you can find a way past it, maybe they'll say something that puts the nail in the coffin." He responds.

Eddie takes a deep breath, and thinks.

Steve is right. Eddie isn't satisfied with any of the answers he got last time, and he knows that there has to be more to the story than "trying to get Eddie out of a rut" and he's not going to be able to put any of this to rest until he understands.

"Ok, yeah. I'll call them." Steve gives him an encouraging smile at that, rubbing the back of Eddie's hand where they haven't let go yet.

"Good, I'm glad. And I can come with you if you want. Hit em from both sides." he says. Eddie think's he'll take him up on that offer, but right now he had more imporant things to do. Namely, tackling his sweet boyfriend onto the mattress and having a mid morning tousle.

"We'll see. Right now I've got more imporant things to do." He says in his best aproximation of a sultry voice. He doesn't know how good it really is, but it seems to work based on the way Steve's eyes get hooded and he looks down at Eddie's mouth.

Gotcha.

Before Steve can lean down and kiss him, Eddie snaps his hands down to his boyfriend's sides in a well executed tickle atack. Steve immedietly jolts and starts howling with laughter, yelling between breaths that Eddie is "a fucking asshole" as he continues his relentless atacks.

Eventually, Steve manages to regain his bearings and go on the offence, turning them over and trapping his boyfriend's hands beneath his knees so he can atack Eddie's equally ticklish sides.

Once the late morning has passes into early noon and they've both settled back into Steve's signifigantly more rumpled be, Eddie takes one more moment to think about the furute to come before he shelves it. He knows that whatever conversation is to come, it won't be easy, and even if things go as smoothly as possible with Gareth and Jeff, things will never be the same between them all.

Looking down at Steve, who is sporting the most outrageous bedhead in human history, laughing at the stream of reals Robin sent him in the middle of the night, he thinks he'll be okay either way.

Tag List

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[andersonfilms]

KNUCKLE VELVET, TORN ON MY TEETH

❝ VI!ONE SHOT ❞

pairing. pitfighter!vi x bartender!reader

warnings. eighteen+, nsfw content: arcane season two spoilers, soft angst, smut, bartender!reader, crashout!vi mends her cold heart, inexperienced!vi, switch!reader + vi, fem coded reader, coded alcohol addiction, slight spit kink, strap use.

KNUCKLE VELVET TORN ON MY TEETH, there's something charming about the pitfighter who doesn't stop drinking until she reaches the bottom of the barrel and the bartender who keeps walking her home.

wc. 7k+

rayray yaps. popping my vi!oneshot cherry, hehe, and i'm happy to do so. the vi brainrot has been real as fuck lately. i fear it's not going away anytime soon. but i wanted to give a special shoutout to @hypnagogics for proofreading this fic, means sm to me ily + my sweet bubba, @absfawn for the title name, i could kiss you until my lips fall off. the best people ever, i love them so much. okay, now i have yapped enough! happy reading, hope you enjoy.

Trapped in the abyss, just when everything had been taken from her life seems to sacrifice another offering on a silver platter. Something else that she thought could be hers, but wasn’t. In the end, all of it was the same. Life is the same. She takes three steps forward, circumstances out of her control take her apart like enforcers imposing their will on Zaun, and she’s forced to move five steps back. It’s all she feels, powerless. 

Wanting nothing more than to drown her sorrows, forget all that she's lost. For everything that’s been taken, Vi feels an overpowering loss, threatening to take over everything she’s trying to build. But Vi thinks of none of it now, she can’t afford to think of one more thing. So, she doesn’t. All of her mind forgets. She forces herself to. 

Zaun, Piltover, Jinx, Vander, Silco, and Cait. 

She drowns in blood, sweat, and liquor for nights to come. She forgets everything and you are just the cherry top on this one shitty sundae. Anytime she’s here, Vi manages to get herself into a fight. Each time. Every time she tries to apologize or hold an ounce of guilt in her eyes, you see right through her crystal blues. From the very first night, you called her bullshit. Even if Vi didn’t give in, it was hard to hide her small smirk. 

She lets herself think it’s because you’re a bartender. You practically get paid to read people, listen to them vent about shit you probably don’t give two shits about and break up the fights that erupt every thirty minutes. Overinflated egos and drunken assholes weren’t a great mix. The jury was still out if you though Vi was one. She could have both, she didn’t really talk much. Vi fought, drank until she couldn’t see straight, and you helped her up to her small apartment right across the street and up the steps into her said apartment. 

No matter how hard she tries, it always ends the same. Vi looking like an imbecile and you, the pretty bartender who shuts down every advance she throws your way. Vi wonders who had a stronger shell, what you’re hiding in order to protect yourself. 

Maybe she is just an asshole. 

“You don’t have to walk me up here. I-I can make it just fine on my own.” 

As soon as your fingertips let go of her fragile frame, Vi’s inebriated body collapses on the concrete steps, grabbing onto the metal framing as if her life depends on it. 

“Really? Now you wanna prove a point?” 

“For your information, I’m always in it to prove a point.” 

Even if your words are harsh, with a soft smile and a hand open, Vi takes it as you let her lean on your weight as you assist her up the steps. There’s little shame to be had once the two of you make it in. It isn’t like the first time and when she noticed the scrunch of your nose in taking the smell, tequila and grease. Vi thought it was cute but she halts any further thought. 

Quickly, Vi disposed of her leather jacket and pants she’s left in boxers and the wrap protecting her chest. The part of her life that seems to be kept together. She doesn’t really mind it though, you. Seeing her like this. Even more so, she enjoys it. You’re always so dismissive at the bar, hardly holding eye contact, turning down any flirting she hurls your way. Just like the vomit Vi had nearly thrown up on your shoes but made a quick diversion for the bush to the right of her instead. 

This is truly the only time she knows you want her. Not so subtly, your eyes trace her like each pinpoint of your gaze is painting her on a clean canvas, one Vi wonders if she’ll like or not. When she’s been around you, she’s been wondering about a lot of things — thoughts she quite literally can’t afford. 

It’s her, nothing ever ends well when her feelings can get crushed on the other side. 

Everything she touches burns to ash before she can even hold it for a moment, a second of symphony retaliates with years of misery. How could you be any different? She wishes you would burn her underneath your gaze, put her out of the misery she feels growing every day, but you don’t. You’re always pulling her out of trouble when you truly don’t have to. It’s not your job to take care of her or hell, even look after her. 

But you do and she can’t seem to figure out why. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

“Just shut the fuck up and let me help you. Not everyone has a motive. Some people just like to help when someone is so clearly struggling.” 

“I’m not—” 

You give her a glare that seems to shut her up. You draw a bath for her. It’s easy to find her towels in the only cabinet. It’s an acute studio apartment. More so of a small room with a stove stop, minimal counter space, and one bathroom enough to bathe and brush her teeth in. There isn’t much left of it but it’s hers. Grabbing the first aid kit, you kneel between her legs, the mattress sits on the floor, her legs spread and stretching out in front of you. 

“Let me help you. Alright?” Vi grumbles, a incoherent complaint, but she lets you tend to her wounds. 

It’s mainly just cleaning off her dry blood as she still complains in the process, but there’s a few cuts on her face and her cheeks are already beginning to bruise. It’s not a secret, she bruises like a peach but she always makes sure her opponent is leaving a lot more with just a few cuts and a bruise the size of a plum. 

It’s then, when you’re concentrating on the cuts on her face, the busted lip she’s sporting; she looks at you. Maybe it’s the first time she has, but without even realizing it, she gets lost. Not in the way Vi doesn’t know who she is, that she’s completely lost on, but Vi sees you. 

Bright-eyed, optimistic, helpful, kind — all attributes she couldn’t claim but wears like a badge of honor. As if helping others instills you with a sense of purpose, something that’s always been a lost cause to her. Fight until the next fight, and the next, and the next. That’s what she’s done, she's always been a fighter. She’s fallen back on it when needed. It’s clear to her. Like a vision she could see, crystal clear through some stupid ball, it’s always been about survival. 

But how much longer does she want to fight and how much more does she have in her? 

“Thanks.” Vi speaks softly. 

Not knowing where to place her palms, she settles for her thigh. Silent as she watches, nearly analyzing every moment, every glance, every little thing you’re doing. It’s sobering to say the least. You don’t need to be delicate but you are. It’s more kindness than she deserves, nearly leaving a bitter taste on her tongue but when you offer a small smile and a soft whisper, you’re welcome. 

It’s the sweetest thing Vi has ever seen. 

There’s something different in the way you look at her. The soft omission exposes how sweet on Vi you may be. Definitely more than you’d let on, which was well…none. Up until tonight, she thought you hated her. With each word uttered in your direction, Vi assumed you’d rather swallow bile than stomach her slurred, flirty speech. 

“Why do you want to help? It’s not like I’ve exactly been—” 

“Kind?” 

“Yeah, something like that.” 

This time Vi lets the smile reach her eyes and your smile gets even sweeter. She can practically feel the sweetness rotting her teeth as she speaks. It’s the first time she feels something new, something as bright as the light radiating through your eyes. 

“You just seem different. Even if you do try to hide it.” 

With a flush of crimson coating the apple of her cheeks, she’s never been quite as exposed as this. The next few weeks are spent with less drinking, but Vi frequents the bar just as much as she did before. She orders a few pints just to talk to you. She’s learning more about you, slowly but surely, you’re opening up more. Divulging information you wouldn’t have before, trust is earned. It’s something you told her the first night you met and to this day, Vi still remembers it. 

Regardless of how drunk she’d been when you said it. 

It’s a typical night. Vi flirted with you but you aren’t being dismissive tonight but you’re careful enough to not let her know exactly how you feel. Everything you say is guarded enough you keep her on her toes, for a moment she thinks she might have to become a ballerina. It’s a slow night, Wednesday. Go figure Vi thinks. There was a woman who’d also been flirting with you all night. Vi thought she was beautiful, sweet, funny…certainly was making you laugh all night. 

Part of Vi wanted to feel jealous but it feels too good hearing you laugh, she says nothing. Maybe you just don’t like women. Vi was known for reading into things too much, thinking everyone thought with their heart first just like she did, and assuming every hot and attractive woman was into other women — just like she is. 

But the brunette left before closing, leaving Vi and a few other regulars paying their tab as they stumbled home with a belly full of liquor of their choosing. 

“Alright Vi, don’t you have somewhere to be? Maybe getting some sleep for the night?” 

“I don’t sleep much, it’s better if I don’t.” 

“Keeps the nightmares away.” 

All Vi does is nod. 

“Story of the century.” You take Vi’s empty pint before washing it dispersing in the sink before cleaning up the remainder of the bar top. “Everyone’s got one around here and the new one is usually even more depressing than the last.” 

“What about yours?” 

“If you wanna hear that, I’ll have to be the one doing the drinking.” You smile but it’s the first one Vi recognizes as insincere. 

“Yeah, seems to be the stone cold requirement for a heart to heart.” 

Vi’s silent as you vent to her about the customer who refused to pay up tonight until you threatened to kick his ass and that wasn't enough, you threatened Letty on him. Vi found herself only slightly entranced as you spoke with such color, your animated voice doing impressions of the stubborn patreon, moving your hands as you speak, eyebrows furrowed as you finished the story. 

You’re done cleaning and are ready to close by the time you finish, locking the door as Vi stuffs her hands in her pockets, “Can I ask you something?” 

You cling to your bag like a lifeline. Vi notices how tight your grip is on the strap, almost as if you’re afraid. Of what? She has a craving to find out. “Why’d you turn her away? She seemed plenty interested. Not your type?” 

You take a step forward, just as close as the last time you were in her apartment, tending to wounds she wouldn’t have really cared about but still she let you clean them. 

You didn’t have to know that. Not yet, anyway. 

“No, not really. I like my women a little rough around the edges, stumbling out of bars so wasted they can’t even walk home by themselves.” You smirk, grabbing the lapel of her leather jacket as you tug her closer to you. “Or is that what you want me to say?” 

“Is it true?” 

You both know the hope in her eyes is dangerous. 

Hope. 

A foreign concept in Zaun. If you get too close to the flame, you’ll get burned, dusting into ash as if you never existed. It’s what shimmer did to people, wipe them off the map until they reformed into a shell of what they used to be. You didn’t just get out of a place like this, not without some help. Vi could barely even help herself. 

The both of you know it’s a bad idea. A terrible, god awful idea, but you still move in closer to her. Vi notices and she wipes the smirk off her face, your warm hands finding purchase on her exposed hips, drawing soft circles on her hip bones. She likes it, even when her heart feels torn from being blown to bits by a certain blue-eyed beauty. 

Vi likes you. 

“Your skin is softer than I thought it would be, smooth like pure silk. Not that I’ve ever touched it before but I’ve got to believe it would feel a lot like this.” 

Vi feels a tingle up her spin, your touch is overwhelming, more than she bargained for really. A stumbling, messy kiss is all she really expected if anything. Not this. Clearly, you knew what to do. Leaving Vi a little clueless in that department, she’s knocked off her feet once again but this time in a way she wants to be. But actually bringing something this special to anything more than a few flirty quips? It never seems to be her strong suit. 

So, she puts her best foot forward. Her big stupid mouth, one she can never quite fully silence. “I can guarantee my lips feel a lot softer.” 

“Vi—” You speak her name like a warning, an unspoken law you’re breaking by entertaining your feelings and the bubbling sentiments you hold for her close to your heart. You know better than to keep it so close, but the halo in her eyes blinds you to reason and you let it. 

“It’s Violet but you can call me whatever you want, sweets.” 

You chuckle at the pet name. 

“Just one night. That’s it. Just to get it out of our system.” 

“One night, sweets. It’s all I need.” 

— 

It’s how you ended up here, the third night in a row since the first, trapped under the web of Vi and her eager mouth. Slender, perfectly sculpted fingers feel like a hex to your cunt, every moment causing you to fall further into her spell. To say she has a certain talent would be considered an understatement. It’s clear Vi’s enjoying herself, fuck, damn near suffocates herself in your weeping cunt. Last night wasn’t nearly enough, she needs to have you, again. Not that you were complaining. 

As much as you hate to admit it, there has been no one as generous as her. As good as her, as sweet, as kind, and she did whatever the hell you asked for. Nothing has beaten the first night, her thumping clit nudging against your as she hiked one of your legs over her toned shoulders. 

It’s not a secret how built she is, far from it, but it’s another thing entirely to watch her flexed bicep ripple with every grind of her hips. Each movement seems to be calculated with precision, focused on doing more than just making herself feel good. With pure determination, glazed over crystal blue eyes, and a pouty scarred lip, she makes sure you’re enjoying this as much as her. With each moan you let slip, her confidence only grows until she’s commanded full control over you. She takes what she wants from you and in return you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, constellations created in the shape of her name as you come. 

“That’s it pretty girl, just for me, yeah?” Vi talks you through  as she works you through your orgasm with her strong hips, not stopping even after you’ve cum. She wants more and Vi pulls three more orgasms out of you before she’s done for the night. You expected her to be good. There was no shocker there but you didn’t expect her to be so sweet afterwards. Vi is a drunk, an addict, whether she wants to accept it or not. You could be just another object she’s addicted to. Somehow, you convince yourself it’s just a one time thing. It doesn’t mean anything, it won’t. 

Truthfully it feels much more than just a one night stand, more than an itch being scratched — the blossoming ache in your soul feels tethered to your heart every time Vi makes you feel an ounce of love — even when she tries to hide it behind a wall. Whether you’re aware, the wall can’t seem to stop crumbling. Brick by brick, it’s coming undone just as you have. Weak-willed and with purpose, you fall into her. 

There isn’t an inch of your body Vi didn’t kiss. Her lips tattooing every inch of your skin with marked affection, almost as if she’s mending your skin with the burn of her lips. When she claims your soft lips, haunting you with the salvation of perfection as her velvet tongue invades your mouth, the taste of you melting from her tongue to yours. The silent declaration you didn’t ask for but craved, the carnal moan leaving her mouth as she chuckles when your hips pathetically grind into hers. 

Vi enjoys your company, that much is clear, but this time you bring her to your place. It’s more or less the same. Both of you coming down from the highest of highs, you feel sticky, dirty, and damn right heavenly. Vi disappears into your bathroom, grabbing a wash rag before dampening the material underneath a warm faucet. Carefully, she kneels by your hips, legs twitching softly as her skilled fingers find your slit before Vi’s sucking the digit in your mouth. 

“I just wanted one last taste before I clean you up.” 

As she has before, Vi makes good on her promise and cleans you up. She enjoys when the pad of her thumb grazes against your clit, terribly overstimulated, your stomach twitches. All Vi can do is chuckle. 

“I’m just a little—” 

“Sensitive?” Vi smirks as you hide your face in the palm of her hands, the pad of her thumb gently caressing your skin.  

It’s the lightest she’s felt in weeks. Almost as if she’s floating on a cloud, she wants to stay up there in the cloudiest of nines. Just you and her and an aging mattress as she offers you everything she can give. Albeit, it isn’t much but she’ll still freely give. 

Like a dog with a bone, Vi corners you on the third night when it’s just you and her in the bar. Closing time has long since arrived and vanished into the crisp air of the night but Vi has you bent over the bar, desperation clawing at the weathered countertop of the bar as Vi’s fingers fucks your pretty little hole while her tongue laps at the slick that’s dripping out of you. Your pretty little skirt pushed up, your panties pushed to the side as she laps and sucks at your juices. She can feel you dripping onto her chin and it only makes her that much more eager to swallow every bit you have to offer. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—” Fuck. Vi starts doing tricks with her tongue, sliding in another finger, pushing against the soft spot buried deep as she toys with you in the way knows best. “We, um, Vi we said just one night.” 

“Shut the fuck up and take it like a good girl. Or did you forget?” Vi moans into your cunt, the vibrations causing your thighs to shake under her mouth. “It’s not like you were complaining last night.” 

Vi silences you as her pace picks up, her fingers fucking you at such a pretty pace, feeling the build grow in the pit of your stomach edging to come to a full bloom. 

All of you begging for it to be released. Vi uses her free hand to slap your ass, sending you moaning and lurching forward. You push yourself back grinding against her tongue, before she removes her divine mouth as she kisses up your spine, her fingers stuffed inside you not faltering for a moment. 

Vi continues to kiss up your spine until she reaches the nape of your neck, her breath kissing your skin, your body shivers into her touch. Full lips ghost over your ear before whispering quietly, “Are you sure you want me to stop? I will if you want me to. I just thought you might wanna, you know, take my cock tonight. Give it a good ride.” 

The moan you let out would put Aphrodite’s to shame, needy and choked sobs escape you as her fingers thrust inside you faster than they have before. 

“Oh? Do you like the sound of that, babygirl? Want to show me how good you can be for me?” Vi doubled down on her efforts, enjoying how much you arched into her body, your hips pushing back as you grind into quick fingers. She’s fucking you better than well…anyone. 

“Vi, please.” Your voice catches in your throat, hoarse and full of need. An insatiable craving; one you fear only she can provide. A few mindless days and careless flirting to land in her sheets, her in yours, the details didn’t truly matter. A vampire out for blood, almost more venomous than precious canines breaking the skin, you yearned to suck on every last drop. But she didn’t seem to be in a mind frame to relinquish control. 

“Please what? I’m not sure if I understand you.” 

All of it, so tantalizing, so fucking infuriating. Three fingers inside you, effectively making you silent, shutting you up as she brings you closer to the edge. That’s the thing, truthfully, Vi has you right where she wants. Only a few thrusts away until you come undone around her. The black haired succubus increases the pace, thumb playing with your clit, her calloused fingers increasing your high as she applies more pressure on the thousands of nerve endings on your precious pearl. 

“Shit. You’re gonna pay for this.” 

“What? For making you come? I hardly constitute that as a crime.” 

Your hands reach for the counter top, you’re not sure what exactly you want, but Vi makes you come for the first time that night. It’s a game, the push and pull. Dangerous. Intoxicating. Some disposition falling far from your fingertips, a game to her and a downward hill spiral for you. Addiction festering next to an open wound and the only antidote can be found on her tongue. Tasting the devil’s mouth is one thing but swallowing the sensation of the woman you’re beginning to love is something else entirely. 

Vi, despite her best efforts not to, makes you fall over the edge. It’s more than her eager tongue and expectant mouth slurping at the vindication of your taste. The craving builds like an exposed vein. Her confidence irrevocably soars like a raven through the midnight sky. Even if Vi acts like she’s done this before, you could pull the curiosity intertwined with naivety a mile away. Violet has never done this before, not with a woman at least, you’re sure of it. She’s a fast learner and such a great accomplishment should replenish such a reward. 

With the energy you have left, you push your skirt down first, as Vi puts your underwear back in place. She doesn’t stop touching you. She can’t. There isn’t much she feels she has control over, this arrangement being one of them. She’s good at this and Vi enjoys it. Every other part of her life, failure surrounds her, her ability not to please anyone in her life. 

In a constant loop, she finds herself caught in the crossfire. Tugged between sister and lover, family and righteousness. Her enemy becomes her lover and lover becomes enemy — all of it poisons her blood and cures her core — and all of it makes her hear a voice she doesn’t recognize but it’s just as true as the four walls surrounding her. 

Oil and water. 

Collecting like scars on her porcelain skin, Vi feels herself sink like an obliterating star. There’s a wonder settled in her chest, it feels heavy and weak, two incapable fists unable to surround her heart with anything but loss, betrayal even. She can’t punch her way out of this one.

All of it wakes a fire in her chest, a dagger being punctured in her heart by the one Vi thought she could trust the most. She doesn’t want to admit it so she doesn’t. 

But this? It feels easy. 

She needs easy, light, even good. Maybe she doesn’t deserve it. 

Vi definitely doesn’t, the sentence flows like a never-ending stream of waterfall continuously drowning her. The blood on her hands stains her perception of all things pure, she wonders how she even sees you at all. How you see her more vividly than anyone, possibly even Cait. There’s no judgment, no snarky remark of where she comes from. Even if she thought there had once been love, Vi questions it now. 

When you come, it feels like a breath of fresh air, a golden wave washing over her sinful hands. Each stroke of gold, your grit and blind hopefulness soaks Vi’s entity. This is what she wants. There’s nothing more than this, someone she could love, who loves her. It’s uncomplicated but the feeling flees as you come to it. Vi can’t help but feel regretful as you cover your ass, it’s such a pretty sight. She can’t stop that she’s greedy, you’ve fed her for the first time in her life and now Vi feels full but she’s only human. 

A sinner always craves more. 

She lets her touch linger on the gold between your thighs, pushing the white substance back into you before Vi lets you feel how wet you are, the dripping slick feels uncomfortable caged into cotton underwear and she wants you to feel it. The breath Vi hears are still heavy, impossibly heavy, and there’s pride in hearing you center yourself, back pressed against her chest as Vi keeps you in place. 

The pleasure within your body begins to slither away as you come back into the angel you are and not the sexual deviant bent over the woman who never pulls her punches. 

“Felt good, yeah?” Vi says. Her angelic, sweeter than the cotton candy stick in your teeth, voice penetrates through. You like it too much. It shouldn’t make you feel as good as it does. Desperately, you want to keep this casual but you’re even losing your footing. 

You pride yourself on the lack of attachment; you don’t need it. Never really had. But then with her it seems to change even faster than the seasons, your wall breaks somehow in between from spring to summer. With intent, you move around, her bright eyes have darken a bit but the fading light looks brighter than you’ve ever seen it. 

Fuck, Vi is making this difficult. 

“You could say that.” You speak softly, a tremble in your voice occurs but Vi says nothing but she does smirk. “Can I ask you something?” 

You turn around and suddenly Vi is staring at your exposed cleavage, the one you use to draw in patreons and to fill your pockets with as many tips as one can muster. Vi had been one, a faithful one trying to drink her away to the bottom of every bottle until she found something else for her. Something that didn’t leave a burn in her throat. 

“What is it?” 

“Was it your first time? The first night?” 

Sheepishly, Vi blushes. For a second, she contemplates lying but you’d see right through it. Right through her. It would only take one look in her blues and you would know. 

“That obvious?” Vi struggles with her words next but she manages to murmur a lame excuse. “Stillwater didn’t leave much time for this.” 

“And after?” You tease but the sincerity in your eyes soothes her. 

“There could have been but there wasn’t. Some things just don’t fit.” Oil and water is what she wants to say but she bites her tongue. 

“You should have told me. I wouldn’t have been so, I don’t know, selfish?” 

“There’s nothing selfish about it. I wanted to make you feel good. Did you enjoy yourself?” This time she makes your skin feel hot. Fuck. 

“Yeah, I did enjoy myself,” you pressed against her as your arms loop around Vi’s necks to bring her closer “but I think it’s officially my turn to offer my services. Don’t you think so?” 

It’s how Vi ends up here, in your place, in your bed — soaked. 

If there was one thing you knew, it was how to please someone. You managed to pull whimpers out of her she didn’t even know existed. The desperate plea coming from her shivering body as she spilled in your mouth the first time sent a shiver down her spine, the band in her stomach snapping as you sloppily spit on her cunt, constant circles of pressure on her clit seeing nothing but your eyes look up at her. 

Not letting a single drop go to waste, you fucked Vi through it, swallowing her completely. Vi shed the wrap covering her chest next. Her body bruised from the pit fights but you couldn’t think of anyone more beautiful than her. You paid attention to her collarbones, neck, and her tits. Sucking on her nipples as Vi tries to come down from the high you placed her on, she doesn’t think she ever will. 

She tries not to think that she wanted these things with Caitlyn. Cait. Cupcake. 

Vi only allows herself to think of her when she’s dreaming, visions of what that could have been, what she used to be. All of it so trivial, so senseless when she thinks of you. How you make her feel is different and she tries not to think of what it all means. 

One night. 

Then two. 

Now three. 

In another life, maybe she was stronger, and didn't need to be wanted. Hell, even needed. She could wait for someone who she thought loves her but the other part of her doesn’t want to think, she wants to feel. Vi likes feeling the softness of your skin, the light in your laughter, the swell of your exposed chest, the way your greedy eyes take in her abs, your soft lips kissing every part of her skin. The smooth, the scarred, the unworthy — you take it all in such stride. 

“Do you want to stop? I think I lost you for a second.” You inquire to the pretty girl beneath you, her hands find your waist, creating makeshift circles on your hip bones. 

“No, that’s the last thing I want.” Vi brings you to her lips, capturing your bottom lip, tongue invading your mouth. She tastes herself as your tongue melts with hers and the rest of her worries melt away. It’s just you and her. “I want to keep going.” 

“Then tell me what you want, baby. I’ll do whatever you want. It’s yours if you want it.” 

It’s spoken as a reminder. All of this is her decision. Vi decides when she wants this, how she wants it, and you’re letting her take all of it in the way she needs. Vi tried not to think the first couple times, she never wanted her first time to be a big deal. Maybe with Caitlyn it could have been, but then she changed. 

Vi thought maybe she could too. So, she did. 

“Can you—” Vi stutters. Yet again her attention gets pulled to your tits, the softness of your stomach, she can’t stop looking at you. As if she’s trying to remember everything about you. She’s committed to it. Vi wants to remember the soft curves of your hips, the way you moan when she comes on your tongue. 

The sight of you looking down at her makes she lose every rational thought, she wants to commit to memory forever. It won’t be something she easily forgets. 

“Gotta speak up, babygirl. Especially if you want me to keep my attention focused on this pretty cunt of yours.” 

You sit between her legs, tilting your head, you look at her glistening pussy, the way it shines with her cum and your sloppy spit. It would look even more exquisite with a little more. Taking a beat as you take your time, you gather enough in your mouth before spitting slowly, Vi whimpering as your spit makes contact with her lower pair of lips. She couldn’t stop it, it slips and you’re grinning, hips desperately bucking to feel more of it. 

“F-Fuck, need your cock. Please? I need it more than anything.” Vi confesses. There’s no need for dignity, especially if she keeps it and you won’t give her what she’s itching for. 

“Yeah? Are you sure about it? Don’t want you backing out just in case you can’t be a good girl and take it.” 

She can take it but she can’t take the countless teasing, trapped underneath the images drowning in her mind. This is what she wants, someone to dissolve into her, make her forget everything that has happened, just a pretty girl with some pretty tits who knows how to fuck. Right? That’s all this is. It’s all it can be tonight. Her lip is busted from the fight tonight, knuckles bloodied and bruised, but you don’t seem to mind all that much. It’s all the same to you. Vi is all the same, that’s been clear from the start. 

Then, she decides to let her mind get shut off, let herself fall into you. You did know how to take care of her and tonight she would let you. 

“Let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

“I promise.” 

Once the harness is on, you wedge yourself in between her thighs, tattooed and toned, brave and brawny but she transforms into someone else entirely once you’re sinking inside her warm walls. You think about what it would feel like to feel her. Is she clenching around your cock? Would you feel the throbbing heartbreak of her clit? What you can hear is the whimper, uncontrollable and breathtaking, you slip further into her as you make home in her beautiful cunt. 

She’s made it yours to take. You’d do anything and everything for her, the thought alone scares so you do what you do best, you grind your hips slowly. Not wanting to overwhelm her too quickly, it’s the first time she’s taking penetration and you want it to be good for her. 

“You’re so perfect. Doing so good for me, taking my cock like a fucking champ.” You whisper out, taking too much enjoyment in her getting lost in your soft thrusts. Vi’s chest starts to heave as her hips roll into yours. Vi never even imagined wanting this, or that she could really have it with someone else. It’s not like she’s experienced, she has nothing to compare it to, but it feels incredibly intimate. 

She likes how you’re being with her. Soft, gentle, delicate. Vi thought she’d never want to feel that way, but maybe it’s just under the right circumstance in the right light. 

“Shit, shit, shit” Vi chants as your hand grabs the headboard, giving her one particular powerful thrust. Perky tits spring to life, jolting against the sudden movement, her moan so fucking load, as you continue your movements. This time not as hard, but you pick up your pace, wanting to see if she would have any arguments against it but Vi doesn’t. Profanities and whimpers leave her mouth as you split her on your cock. Face half-smashed into the pillow, trying to muffle her moans and you offer this one mercy. 

She’s still shy. 

Now is a good time as any to fuck it out of her. 

“Do you want more Vi? Want me to go…faster?” Placing a hand on her abdomen, the abs defined and clenching as you halt your thrust for a moment. “Do you wanna feel me in your stomach, baby?” 

“Can you even do that? I’m not so sure you’re even capable. Looks like the rookie knows more moves than the veteran.” Vi bites back. But it doesn’t last for long. Vi thinks she must have said the wrong thing, pushed you too far, you slipped off her but only to move her body to the edge of the bed, placing her on all fours right in front of a very convenient mirror. 

“Fine. Thought I’d be sweet but that isn’t what you really want. If you want to get treated like a whore, I’ll fuck you like one.” You take a beat to appreciate her wonderfully sculpted back, the artwork is truly exquisite. It feels so much like her but the foolish girl is smirking at you through the mirror. 

You know you’ve been caught ogling at her body, checking out every inch of her exposed body, you slap her ass in retaliation but she just grinds her ass back onto you. 

“I’m waiting.” Teasingly, Vi arches her spine more. “Where’s the whore fucking you’re muling about?” 

In one move, you’re inside her, fucking her beautiful face into the mattress. Never in her life has she felt so full, so good, so sweet. You grab her by the meat of her hips, bringing you back on her repeatedly. Vi wonders what she would give to have this, have you, and the thought scares her just as badly. She instead focused on you. 

Tits bouncing as you thrust into her at a punishing pace. Divinely and so perfectly you, making her see stars, she feels trapped. Not in a punishing way, but in a way that has her never wanting to leave the entrapments of your coaxing cock. At this moment, this is where she’s meant to be, just a toy for you to use. 

But it’s more than what meets the eye. If Vi was just a toy, you’d be done after the first night. Tonight, you weren’t using her for your own pleasure. You seemed perfectly content to give. The shine in her eyes gave you something only she could, edging you even further, a constant wave hitting Vi like a tidal wave making home on the shore. 

“God, you’re just too perfect. Fuck, just like that, take what’s yours.” Bouncing back on the strap, the words fall from her lips before she can’t stop them. Overflowing like a water fountain, it’s before she really even realizes what she’s saying, it just feels right. 

“Mommy, please.” 

Vi has had those words on the tip of her tongue but not that you’re fucking her into a different dimension, she lets the aching plea slip from sinful lips. It’s only once but it’s enough to set you off. You pull Vi up, her gorgeous back pressed against your chest, sitting on your thighs as you fuck up into her. Brutally, she takes everything you have to give. 

Sweat glistening across her body, accentuating her chest as she tries to compose herself  but you don’t give her the option. No. It would be too easy, wouldn’t it?

“I want you to watch, Violet. Watch yourself when you cum, be a good girl and show me how pretty you look, hm? Wouldn’t wanna disappoint, Mommy, now would you?” 

Vi sucks on your middle digit, tongues swirling as she feels the tight band in her stomach, threatening to snap. She’s close. When the sensationally soft pad of your thumb applies pressure on her clit, Vi’s done for. 

“Shit, oh my fucking god, baby baby babbyyyyy.” Incoherent murmurs and moans come in abundance as Vi bounces herself your cock, falling right apart as you toy with her clit, fucking her through the impending high. Your other arm tweaks around and up, fingers squeezing her tits, over stimulating her as she slumps against you. 

It’s the easiest task ever done. Submit to you, your skilled fingers, the power of your sinfully sensational thrusts, she comes all over you. The powerful demeanor weakens before your very eyes. When you gently move her back on the bed, slipping out of her, Vi’s eyes begin to water from the loss. 

The first time getting strapped down is always a lot to handle, you’d still taken it easier on her, too afraid you would push her too far but by the blissed out eyes, she’d enjoyed herself. She had enjoyed herself and you couldn’t really ask for much more. 

When the both of you are cleaned up, Vi cuddles into your frame and you let her. Even if your first instinct is to push her away, saying something you know that’ll hurt her, none of it finds any merit on your tongue. For the first time, you find it difficult to turn away a pretty girl, her lips kissing your collarbones, up your neck until she finds home on your own lips, sloppily invading your mouth with your tongue. 

Hitting you where it hurts, she moans your name in her mouth, unable to contain the neediness she feels around you. It’s worse than Cait. This is pure addiction entangled with something carnal. Vi knows if she doesn’t get to fuck you again, you fucking her cunt again, she might as well give up on life now. 

“I could go again.” 

You chuckle. Of course she could. 

“Don’t know rookie, that might be all you can handle for the night.” 

It’s a challenge and you know she’ll bite the bait. 

With ease she gets on top of you, and just as if she’s done it a hundred times, Vi sinks on your cock, “I think I can handle another ride, don’t you?” 

[anyaskalliope]

Mel and Jayce Deserved Much Better

After experiencing horrors and walking through valleys and shadows, I truly hoped Mel would break down this season and unleash her emotions. Especially since she spent the entire season unlearning hardness with Jayce being so openly affectionate and emotional. This final act was honestly a slap in the face.

The one person she hoped would offer her that safety net to do this completely shuts her down. Mel was always cognizant of his feelings, constantly looking out for him, advising him, and teaching him. She shared with him her deepest insecurities and vulnerabilities. I can understand if Mel and Jayce are both going their separate ways because of the Noxus plot but to have him be this cold, and distant, and show a lack of understanding toward her plight is bizarre.

Mel comes back with a changed appearance and a different demeanor, and he doesn't even ask what happened. He seems to not care. Jayce isn't even giving her a chance to explain herself and just keeps coming at her and you can see the moment when Mel puts all her walls back up. Don't even get me started on the fact that he held the hammer in his hand for most of the time.

Their interactions during this act paint Jayce as one large hypocrite. He benefitted from all of Mel's teachings, from her providing comfort and affection, to her investments in Hextech. Asking her why she didn't save Viktor like she had something against him was wild.

This is the same Mel who offered comfort to Jayce when Viktor was severely injured during the explosion. The same Mel who immediately understood why Jayce left after their night together, recognized the importance of Viktor to Jayce.

If Mel could protect everybody in that room, she would. When she explains her lack of awareness of her abilities to him, he just keeps going on and on.

And the apology with the "passenger" line was just bad. It lacked a certain level of remorse that I would expect from Jayce of all people. Where is that good-hearted man who could tell when people aren't feeling their best, that person who always wanted to help people and make their lives better?

I think the Survivor Jayce is not the Jayce that Mel fell in love with, this is another man. The Jayce she fell in love with died at the bottom of that cave. The survivor Jayce is Viktor's passenger.

Jayce abandoned not just Mel but also his mother who protected him many times to be with Viktor in the afterlife?? In what universe is Jayce pulling that shit?

Now Mel's heading off to Noxus. A nation that doesn't align with her values and morals and would most likely have to harden herself to rule or have influence there. I hate it all. I hate that Black women always have to be strong. We actually had an opportunity to see a Black woman who grew up in that environment slowly shed those walls with a man who actually loved her and was openly affectionate and vulnerable. I'm so sad that it was taken from us. I'm sick and tired of the strong Black woman trope.

With how mischaracterized her motives and actions towards Jayce are, I for one cannot say that I'm excited for a spin-off series with Mel as a main character. Not with this writing team and this fandom.

To me, this show ended in season 1 with Zaun becoming independent, Jinx not firing the rocket, and Mel and Jayce growing together as individuals and as a couple.

[embbarnes]

Roasted Chestnuts. | B.B

summary: Bucky takes to sleeping in the living room, you comfort him with hot cocoa.

warnings: Angst & Fluff | PTSD symptoms | Nightmares | Post accidental injuries

a/n: I hope this technically qualifies, even though it's sort of angsty. But there is fluff! I decided to use a few themes from the list provided and melded them together. Unedited, mistakes to be fixed later lol. ;; wc: 3.3k

Cold sweat and cold weather don't exactly mix.

Neither did the cold, wooden floor of the living room but...he insisted on it ever since he woke up choking you to near unconsciousness, his hands trembling with horror when he realized what he had done. The hardwood became his self-imposed punishment, refusing the comfort of proper bedding.

He couldn't forgive himself for that, his instability taunted him for weeks after that, having to see the bruise around your throat cause by his hand. Every morning he would catch glimpses of the purple-blue marks adorning your precious neck, each glance a reminder of how close he had come to destroying everything he held dear. The guilt ate away at him, manifesting in sleepless nights and countless apologies that could never seem to erase that moment from his memory.

He deserved it; the chill in the air making every bead of perspiration feel like tiny needles against his skin.

Especially his scars.

His shoulder hurt bad during the winter, which wasn't a huge surprise, but he would've appreciated if his body formed a bit of resistance to the cold by now.

Between endless cryofreezing, Siberian training, the prolonged exposure to freezing should have given him some sort of enhanced ability to withstand the cold but...cruelly, almost laughably, he was more vulnerable to the bite of chill now.

It pissed him off, quite frankly.

But right now, he couldn't bring himself to dwell on his annoyance.

Instead, his thoughts drifted to you as he sat there on the cold floor, his body tucked carefully against the chair that stood positioned by the stark wall. He had turned the chair into an improvised shelter of sorts, his upper body deliberately laid close beside it in a way that almost seemed to mimic having another body near him for comfort. The transition had been gradual over the course of several months, he had slowly grown accustomed to sleeping in a proper bed, and more importantly, he had grown used to having you there beside him.

Your warm, protective arms would wrap around his frame each night, and he had found himself free of any hesitation or shame as he tucked himself against your chest, letting the steady rhythm of your heartbeat become his personal lullaby, lulling him into peaceful sleep. Better than any goddamn noise machine he could dream of.

But that peace had been shattered after one particularly visceral nightmare that had resulted in him nearly choking the life from you in his sleep-addled state. He found himself unable to bear the thought of sharing a bed with you again, too terrified of what his unconscious mind might make him do.

He thought he was getting better, he was supposed to be better. The words didn't work anymore...therapy was mediocre at best but it was supposed to help him. Yet, after all of that, he still hurt you.

He's still plagued.

Frustrated with himself and the situation, he kicks the chair slightly, causing it to skid a few inches across the worn wooden floor with a harsh scraping sound. Bucky takes a deep breath, his flesh hand instinctively gripping his dog tags - those small pieces of metal that remind him of who he once was - one his own, one Steve’s.

Damnit, Steve. Why didn’t he stay?

The one man who always had his loyalty, his best friend, he felt so abandoned.

Now he had to dump his shit on you. You didn’t deserve this.

Dealing with what remained of Bucky. Dealing with his problems.

Burdening you with his issues.

All alone.

His vibranium hand nervously bundled the thin, threadbare blanket he used to sleep under. The television continued to drone on in the background, playing yet another cheesy Christmas movie that felt hollow and distant. He didn’t like these ones.

He liked the older ones.

They were simpler, easier to grasp. The fantasy of talking snowmen and flying reindeer seemed far better to lose himself in than these modern romantic tales of a cheerful woman who sings perfect carols and inevitably falls for a handsome shop owner...predictable stories that seemed to play on an endless loop.

The warm glow from the Christmas tree cast a gentle, inviting light across the sparse living room, making the empty space feel more like home. The apartment was still largely unfurnished, your current financial situation wasn’t great to say the least. Bucky's couldn’t get a job with his ‘criminal’ background, nor would anyone hire the Winter Soldier, regardless of how good he worked and how well he was with his hands. That left you as the sole provider. The weight of being the only one working pressed heavily on your shoulders, though you never complained.

You were happy to do it, if it meant Bucky could spend time relaxing and not worrying about anything.

Still, he didn’t like it.

The thought of his girl working for the both of you gave him a sour taste in his mouth, his gut tightened as he saw it as just another burden for you. A gentleman deep down, you having to work to support the two of you didn’t do anything but give him even more mental crisis.

Even when you were on the run in Romania, he found odd jobs. He brought food home. He took care of the two of you. It wasn’t that Bucky didn’t think you shouldn’t be working because you were a woman, it’s just…he felt horrible. You did so much for him, and all he could do was sit at home and wait for you to come off your shifts. He felt worthless.

And despite the tight budget, you'd worked extra hours so you could afford a Christmas tree for the apartment. While Bucky had initially been indifferent to the idea of holiday decorations, his memories of past Christmases long since faded into a blur. Watching your face light up as you carefully placed each ornament made every penny worth it.

His thoughts were interrupted by the subtle creak of floorboards, and he turned to find you peering around the corner of the short hallway that led to your bedroom. "Buck Buck...what're you doin' up?" you murmured, voice thick with sleep. Your hair was charmingly disheveled, and his old henley hung loosely on your frame, the hem nearly reaching your knees. Your eyes, still heavy with sleep, blinked slowly, "I heard somethin' out here, are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, doll I'm...I'm fine." He exhaled slowly, not exactly confident in his words, shoulders slumping forward as the weight of sleepless nights pressed down on him. His hand still held the dog tags, fiddling with them restlessly as his thumb pad gently traced the engraved names and numbers, a nervous habit he'd developed.

"Are you trying to convince me, or yourself that?" You asked softly, sitting down beside him on the cold floor, close enough to offer comfort but far enough to give him space. "Why don't you come back to bed with me? It's cold out here and that small blanket is not enough... I can see you shivering."

"No." He spat firmly, his jaw clenching with tension, "We've been over this. I'm not going to risk hurting you again. I can't...I won't let that happen."

"It was an accident-" you tried to reason, reaching out instinctively.

"NO!" Bucky snapped suddenly, his volume and tone loud enough to echo off the walls, making you flinch as it startled the sleep out of you. The fear in his own eyes matched yours for a split second.

It was silent for a few beats until finally he found the courage to break it with trembling words.

"I can't...I won't hurt you again. Every time I close my eyes, I see your face - the fear in your eyes when I came back to myself. You can downplay it all you want. The doctors told me how close I came to crushing your trachea. How am I supposed to carry on knowing what I almost did? You still have that dark bruise around your throat, oh...god..." His voice cracked and faded, heavy with anguish. The traumatic memory had carved itself deep into his psyche.

The faceless HYDRA torturers had been replaced in his nightmares, instead, visions of his own hands wrapped around your throat, watching helplessly as the life slowly drained from your eyes.

That was more horrifying than any of HYDRA's torture.

He would willingly submit himself to every cruel experiment, every brutal conditioning session, every moment of agony they had ever put him through - if it meant he could erase that one terrible moment when he had almost become your killer.

"Bucky," you interrupted his thoughts, your hand reaching out hesitantly in the dim light of the room, hovering just inches from his tensed shoulder but not yet making contact. You turned your palm slowly upward toward the ceiling, silently willing him to either take your hand or at least allow you the comfort of touching him. "I promise you, I am fine. Yes, it might've been a bit scary in the moment when it happened, and I understand why you're worried...but I know you'd never hurt me on purpose, not in a million years. It was an accident, nothing more than that."

He shifted uncomfortably under your unwavering gaze, his fingers clutching the deep green blanket even tighter to his chest, drawing it close like armor against both the cold and his own guilt. You could see the slight tremor in his frame, whether from the chilly air or his inner turmoil, you weren't sure. You knew he must be freezing out here in the living room, but if there was one thing you'd learned about Bucky, it was that he could be impossibly stubborn.

No matter how much you yearned to lead him back to the warmth of your shared bedroom, you knew he wouldn't budge an inch, wouldn't dare return to your bed, not while the belief that he might unconsciously harm you still gripped his conscience.

Instead of trying the back and forth of arguing, you decided to do something else. Rising from your spot, you made your way back to the bedroom, your bare feet making soft padding sounds against the aged wooden floorboards that creaked ever so slightly with each step. When Bucky heard you walk away, he assumed you had given up and gone back to bed for the night, so he slowly lowered himself down onto his makeshift sleeping spot, trying to find a comfortable position to attempt sleep.

But your absence was only temporary. Within moments, you had returned.

Your arms were laden with an assortment of blankets and a plush pillow, carried from your bedroom.

"No, doll..." he sat up immediately, preparing to launch into reasons why you shouldn't subject yourself to sleeping on the floor, even if it might be hypocritical. But you possessed every bit as much stubbornness as he did, and you had already made up your mind that he wouldn't have to face this night alone.

"Hush. I'm staying with you, and if that means camping out in the living room, then that's exactly what I'm going to do." You insisted firmly but gently, carefully arranging the blankets and pillow beside his spot. "And if sleep doesn't come easily tonight, then we can always put on a movie to pass the time. But I don't want you to be on your own, you've been torturing yourself for weeks now..."

Bucky looked down at his lap, a mix of exasperation and fondness crossing his features. "You are such a brat..." He finally replied, his lips pulling into a small, almost reluctant smile. The warmth in his chest grew steadily as he watched you, touched by how adamantly you insisted on sleeping beside him, even if it meant spending the night on the cold floor.

"That's me," you replied with a playful smirk, your eyes twinkling with mischief. "Now...how about some hot chocolate? If we aren’t gonna sleep, then we might as well have a little treat. Plus, it'll warm you up." You offered, already making your way to the kitchen with determined steps, your mind set on the comforting beverage. "Marshmallows or whipped cream?" You called over your shoulder, your voice carrying a hint of amusement as you deliberately didn't give him any opportunity to decline the offer.

He shook his head slowly, running his hand over his face as an affectionate smile spread across his features, unable to hide how endeared he was by your persistence. "Marshmallows...please," he responded softly.

"And that chestnut flavoring?" You added thoughtfully, observing him still comfortably tucked away on the floor, his form relaxed against the wall. Bucky gave a shy nod, a gentle expression crossing his features, and you couldn't help but smile warmly in return. "We should roast some, I hear people do that this time of year. But I'm not sure why exactly? I haven't had the chance to try them prepared that way before."

You carefully made your way back to where he sat, extending the steaming mug of hot chocolate towards him. The ceramic vessel was filled nearly to the brim, with a generous mountain of tiny marshmallows creating a fluffy white peak on top.

Bucky shrugged his shoulders slightly, reaching up to pluck a few of the dry marshmallows from the pile, popping them into his mouth one by one. "You can eat them plain as a snack," he offered simply, savoring the sweet dissolving treats.

"Yeah, but that seems a bit too plain for chestnuts. How about…a pie? God, I love pecan pie, why not chestnut pie? Or I hear they go good with apples."

"Pie would be really good...you know how much I love your baking," Bucky smiled warmly, his eyes lighting up as he fondly recalled all the delicious sweet treats you had lovingly prepared throughout the seasons. Apple pie was one of Bucky's all time favorite desserts, and he always lit up when you made it for him. You aren’t a professional baker by any means, but the homemade pastries and treats that came from your kitchen had become one of his most treasured simple pleasures in the world.

You sat nestled against him, your shoulders touching as you both sipped hot chocolate and talked about everything and nothing. The conversation drifted from the gentle snowfall outside to potential weekend activities, from dessert recipes you wanted to try together to movies you both wanted to watch.

Bucky had changed visibly since you crept out to see him, his tense shoulders had gradually loosened, the worried lines around his eyes had softened, and genuine smiles now came more frequently. You both occasionally made playful commentary about the predictable romantic comedy playing on screen, sharing knowing looks as the plot became increasingly formulaic and harder to tolerate.

"Can't we watch something else?" Bucky asked, turning to meet your gaze with a slight grimace, "I'm getting tired of these kinds of movies...at this point, I could practically recite exactly what's going to happen next, line by line."

“What do you mean?” You laughed a little, smiling at him as he rolled his eyes in return.

“Let’s see…it’s either Noel, Carol, or some other Christmas themed name for the main girl, and she always moves back to a hometown or is divorced or lonely or just…wandering through life feeling like something’s missing. Meets a handsome guy, a handy man, a baker, someone she knew from her childhood, and they eventually fall in love after this big Christmas event happens.” Bucky muttered, “And there's always singing! That’s been the plot for the last three movies, I swear.”

"Sure," you responded with another laugh, he hit the nail on the head. You reached forward for the remote and scrolled through channels until you stumbled on one specifically for classic holiday films. "Oh my god, this one! It's from, like...1960." You watched, somewhat amused, as the distinctively vintage stop-motion animation showed Rudolph trudging through the snow, the character's movements charmingly stilted by today's standards. Your finger hovered over the remote button, ready to continue searching.

"No, no...don't change it," he interjected softly, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice, "I'd like to watch this one..."

"Really? Alright," you set the remote down and got comfy. These classic films held a special place in your heart, each frame bringing back cherished memories of curling up on the couch as a child, lost in the magic of storytelling and still believing in Santa Claus. "This used to be one of my favorites," you murmured softly, snuggling closer against him. Bucky lifted his right arm, eager to feel your heat against his bare chest. He hadn't experienced watching these movies the same as you had, his past denying him even these small comforts.

It wasn't like HYDRA allowed him a tv.

Watching it now, even without the foundation of the right nostalgia, he was drawn into the film's spell. There was something touching about its simplicity, the way it managed to weave enchantment through every scene despite its less sophisticated approach. Even with its fantastical storyline, it carried an authentic magic that resonated deep within him, something pure and genuine he could instinctively recognize. Much better than the movies he had seen all day.

The first movie seemed to float by in a comfortable haze, and before you knew it, another began to play. These old ones didn’t have a very long runtime, but you forgot just how quick they fly by. The Charlie Brown Christmas movie filled the screen with its familiar charm. The gentle orchestration of the score and soothing tone of the character’s voices set a comfortable mood in the room.

While the movie played, you felt a slight shift in weight beside you. You glanced over and noticed Bucky's empty mug resting forgotten in his lap, old white foam from melted marshmallows sticking to the rim, his features softened as his eyelids had finally drooped closed. His weight leaning more against yours, and you carefully adjusted yourself.

"Oh, Bucky..." you whispered tenderly to yourself, watching as the exhausted man finally succumbed to sleep, the warm hot chocolate having done its job exactly as you'd hoped it would. Gently, you removed the empty mug from where it rested precariously on his lap and eased him down into a more comfortable position, making sure his head was properly supported by the plush pillow beneath it. You then took your time meticulously arranging the thick blankets over his body, paying particular attention to his metal arm, ensuring it was completely covered.

The winter months were especially difficult for him, the cold made the connection points of his prosthetic ache terribly, so you made sure that every inch of the metal limb was thoroughly insulated against the chill.

Damn, you should really invest in a heated blanket…they were just so expensive.

You were determined to get one for him though.

After adjusting the television volume just a little to create a soft, ambient background noise, you settled yourself beside his sleeping form. You snuggled in close, your hand moving in slow, soothing strokes up and down the broad expanse of his back.

Even in the depths of sleep, he instinctively sought out your warmth, shifting closer until his face was buried against your chest, his arm wrapping around you in a secure embrace. Though the weight and coolness of the metal arm pressed against you was initially a bit uncomfortable since the henley rode up a bit, but you quickly adjusted. Vibranium was nice, once it warmed it would stay that way for a long time.

But the same vise versa, meaning you really should get a heated blanket soon.

For now, this would do. You'd be the heat he needed, even if it meant staying with him on the floor.

Thanks for reading. -em 🌿

Dividers by @/strangergraphics | Images found on Pinterest.

@buck-star 's Fluffy Winter Event.

[ghouljams]

I feel like each of the 141 has a difference preference when dicking down their mate.

Kyle prefers to stay human, it lets him really get a good show while fucking into the pretty thing he managed to take home. Seeing how your skin contrasts to his softly colored sheets is more reassuring to him that you're his than any scenting could be. Also, he's a lighter sleeper as a human, letting him keep you in his bed if you try to slip out while he's asleep.

Price likes the little hint of other, as a sign of his age and experience. He's the only one of the 141 who can shift only a few senses instead of having to start properly shifting. Let's him memorize your scent while fucking you, all so he can let you have the illusion of choice by letting you go and "finding" you again later. Eventually, he'll make it seem like a bit of fate and offer you out on a date.

Ghost partially shifts, and that's the most he can hold himself back when it comes to you. Claws and teeth come out, drool dripping from his maw to your skin. He needs to taste you, to make sure you taste the same. Taste like his.

Soap is a dog and he will fuck you in full transformation because of it. This man needs you on the most primal level, so why not just fuck you at his most primal. It also gives him a better nose to smell your sweat soaked skin, a longer tongue to shove into you, better hearing to catch each and every whimper you make. He needs to consume you and the best way to do that is with his wolf.

At least, that's my thought.

As usual how does it feel to be so fucking right?

Gaz absolutely prefers fucking you as a human, it feels too much like taking advantage of you when he has his semi-transformed strength and the idea of fucking you fully wolf makes him itch a little. He's so worried about damaging you with his claws and fangs :( his poor human mate, he doesn't want to ruin you. We'll, not like that at least. That won't stop him from knotting you, that's a luxury he can't afford not to indulge in. He loves the way you squirm and complain about the stretch, shushing you with soft coos, promising it'll be over soon, even when he knows it'll be a good 20 minutes at least.

Price is old hat at transformations and after years of growing and shrinking it's worn on his joints, if he doesn't have to transform he won't. He'll indulge in the sensed his wolf-form lends him, pressing his nose to your pulse and getting himself drunk on your scent. His eyes are always dark, animalistic, when he drags his flat tongue against your sex, and you worry that the teeth he's hiding might bite too hard, but he hasn't hurt you yet. And the only scare he gives you is when he presses his hand against your come filled stomach talking about pups.

Ghost simply lacks self control around you. The man has the control of a saint, but once he gets drunk on the scent of your arousal it's over for him. He grips you with heavy clawed hands, his skin splitting with fur and his nose starting to lengthen, and it scares you a little. His breathing is uneven, but his hips don't stop moving even when his bones start to break and his joints begin to pop. His drool dripping onto you is the only indication you get before he's sinking his teeth into your shoulder. You'll have to take wolfsbane in the morning if you don't want to end up going through the same pain.

Soap though... Soap fucks you like a dog, literally. He'll hunt you down on a full moon and hold you down with big paws, murmuring canned tones from his open maw about how he can't stop himself. He's all instinct, all panting and howling as he mounts you and ruts his cock against your sex, uncaring what hole he fucks himself into as long as it's yours. He'll lay directly on top of you once he's knotted you too, licking your face in apology but you know he doesn't mean it because he keeps asking for another round.

[crookedteethed]

18+ - mdni

ᥫ᭡. kook! jj, who can't keep his dick to himself.

warning: toxic!jj, cheating, public sex (fingering), language

You sighed, watching JJ flirt shamelessly with yet another woman at the Country Club bar. His pearly whites flashed as he leaned in close, whispering something that made her giggle. You rolled your eyes, sipping your martini.

A familiar pang of jealousy twisted in your gut, but you pushed it aside. This was nothing new. JJ had always been a player, even back when you first met him. You'd known exactly what you were getting into.

Still, you couldn't help but wonder why you stayed.

Maybe it was the way his khakis and Polo hugged his athletic frame, or how his cologne lingered tantalizingly whenever he brushed past. Or perhaps it was the thrill of being with someone so desired, knowing you were the one he came home to at the end of the night.

As if sensing your gaze, JJ glanced over and winked. Damn him and that roguish grin. Your anger melted away as he excused himself and sauntered back, sliding onto the barstool beside you.

With a sinister smirk, he leaned in close and whispered, "Did you miss me, gorgeous?" His hand slid up your thigh with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine. Despite your anger, JJ's touch ignited a fire within you that you couldn't resist.

Your mind raced as he brushed the hem of your skirt, reminding you of all the times he had bought you gifts to win you over. But this time, his touch felt like a threat, like a possessive mark left on your body.

"This a cute piece," he taunted, pulling at the fabric possessively,

"Did I buy you this cute little number?"You could feel yourself weakening under his manipulative hold and hated yourself for still wanting him despite everything he had done.

You tried to push away the memories, but they flooded back as his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

"I can tell your side piece over there can't get enough of you," you growled, nodding towards the girl JJ had been cozying up to, who was now frantically scanning the room for him.

"She ain't missing me, she's just craving my dick. I've already had her once--" he says casually, as if it means nothing.

"When?" you interrupt, your jealousy fueling your words. But deep down, you already know the answer and it makes your stomach churn with disgust.

"I don't know." Jay shrugs. " A week or so ago? Two weeks ago, maybe." He casually said, as if it means nothing.

Your blood boils and you feel sick to your stomach.

"You're such a pig," you spit out, unable to contain your disgust any longer. With a heavy heart, you stand up and walk away, unable to bear being near JJ any longer. But of course, he follows behind you, trying to make excuses or apologies that fall on deaf ears.

"Hey, come on, don't be like that," Jay's voice echoes after you, his footsteps pounding against the linoleum floors as he rushes to catch up. "I was just being honest."

You spin around, seething with rage as you lock eyes with him. "Honest? You're supposed to be loyal to me, Jackson, but instead you're out here screwing other women behind my back?" Every word drips with venom as you advance towards him, ready to unleash your pent-up fury.

"Sweetheart, come on." JJ tries to smooth things over in his suave manner, glancing around the deserted hallway before pulling you closer by your hips. "You know I love you, right? You're my everything."

JJ's face may have been a replica of his mother's flawless beauty, but his father's manipulative nature runs through his veins like a toxic poison.

The mere thought of Groff's influence on him ignites a fierce rage within you, intensifying as you feel JJ's hand creeping up your skirt once again--this time his fingers exploring the delicate lace of your panties. You can sense his intent, and it sends shivers down your spine as you struggle to contain the boiling fury inside you.

"You know I wouldn't intentionally hurt you, baby." His words do little to calm the storm brewing inside you as he looks at you with those soft, doe-like eyes--damn him--just as his palm cups your throbbing sex.

A moan escapes your lips as his cool Signant Ring presses against your engorged clit.

"Jay, we can't do this here," you hiss, turning your head to scan for any onlookers.

"Who says we can't?" He counters, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

Your senses are heightened as your eyes dart around, searching for prying eyes or gossiping villagers. The thought of being caught only intensifies the thrill coursing through your veins.

"Jay, please," you mewl, feigning resistance, though your hips betray you by arching closer to his touch. His lips curve into a smirk, knowing how deeply his ministrations affect you. He uses this knowledge ruthlessly as he presses down on your sweet spot with just enough pressure to have your toes curling in your heels.

"No one's looking," he whispers in your ear, his voice low and velvety, just as his fingers slipped beneath the silk of your panties. A shiver ran down your spine at the feeling of his fingertips brushing against your bare skin.

As JayJay's skilled fingers continued their exploration, your mind clouded over with desire. The combination the warmth of the room, and the knowledge that you could be discovered at any moment only served to heighten your arousal. You gripped the wall, desperate for support as sensation after sensation washed over you.

Suddenly, he slipped a single finger inside of you, and you couldn't help but moan louder this time, Smitten by lust, you didn't care. All that mattered was the delicious friction between your legs, the expert way his fingers moved in and out of you, plundering your depths with practiced ease.

As JayJay added a second finger, stretching you open even further, every ounce of resentment and jealousy you harbored vanished into thin air.

The smooth, probing digits hitting all the right spots within you, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your entire body. All that mattered in that moment was the exquisite sensations building up inside of you, demanding release.

That bitch at the bar, JJ's insufferable bragging about their sexual conquests—none of it mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming need to come on JayJay's fingers, right there in the dimly lit corridors, far away from prying eyes but close enough to tease with the risk of getting caught.

The silence around you was deafening, broken only by the wet sounds of arousal escaping as Jay fingers pumped faster into your cunt, his blue eyes never leaving your face.

JJ could feel the tight grip of your pulsing pussy around his fingers, a clear indication that you were on the brink of ecstasy. He knows that if he can make you gush and lose control, you will forget about everything else - him, the girl at the bar, and any other thoughts that may have been occupying your mind.

JayJay added a third finger, stretching you deliciously, his thumb circling your clit as he began a relentless assault on your most sensitive spots. The wall behind you felt like the only thing keeping you grounded as your senses swam with lust and need. His gaze bored into yours, his smirk widening as he witnessed the effect he had on you. You were open and vulnerable in more ways than one.

The corridor spun dizzyingly around you, but all you could focus on was the pleasure building up inside you, coiled tighter and tighter as JayJay continued his expert ministrations. Your moans became louder, more desperate, and you didn't care who heard or saw anymore. All that mattered was reaching the peak that was so close yet so far away.

"That's it, baby," he cooed. "Let it all out f'me."

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge. JayJay's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made you see stars. Your legs trembled, threatening to give out as the pressure built to an almost unbearable level.

"J-JayJay," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close…"

He leaned in, his hot breath tickling your ear as he whispered, "Then come for me, sweetheart. Let me feel you fall apart."

That was all it took. With a cry that echoed through the corridor, you came undone around his fingers. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking as JayJay worked you through your orgasm. He held you steady, his free arm wrapping around your waist to keep you upright as you rode out the high.

Jay’s lips curled into that devilish smirk—a signature of his, one that both thrilled and infuriated you. His fingers, slick with evidence of your surrender, brushed against your thigh as he slowly retreated, deliberately leaving a trail of heat in their absence. His blue eyes bored into yours, darkened with triumph and something more primal, something that left your knees trembling.

And just like that, JJ had you again in his magnet tar pit trap.

As JJ removed his fingers from your panties and brought them to your lips, coating your mouth in your own juices, savoring the sweet, musky taste of arousal. His eyes locked with yours, a challenge dancing in their depths.

"Taste yourself," he said, his voice low and commanding. Your cheeks flushed red, but the arousal coursing through your veins overpowered any last shreds of modesty.

Slowly, you parted your lips and closed them around his fingers, lapping up every drop of your essence. Your heart pounded in your chest as your tongue swirled around his digits, a sultry dance of your submission and desire.

JJ had treated you like shit, you knew, your friends knew, even JJ himself knew, yet you couldn't help the craving that swelled within you for him—a craving to be claimed, to be marked, to be his in every way that mattered.

as always, reblogs and comments keeps me motivated. 🫶🏾

[writerofjourneys]

So I have a request if it’s alright with you of zhongli x phoenix reader since zhongli is a dragon right and there’s a lot of story’s apparently about a dragon and phoenix being a perfect match and I don’t know if this is true or not they represent Yin and Yang

𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫 𝐀𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐮𝐬

A/N: I think I might make a continuation of this or something. I just love this idea, thanks for this, Anon! I did change Reader’s animal form from a phoenix to fenghuang since I feel is more fitting, so apologies for not meeting your exact request. And I’m also sorry for this ridiculously long wait, uni has been a pain. I don’t know how I feel about this piece, but I’ve kept it for months already and I think it’s well enough to post.

Fandom(s): Genshin Impact

Zhongli x (Adeptus)Wife Fem Reader

Summary: With the longest lasting relationship in all of Teyvat history, the union of Rex Lapis and Regina Lux is widely celebrated and respected across the seven nation than just Liyue. Even living as mortals now, your love remains, in story and in present.

One-shot

Content: Reader is an adeptus fenghuang sometimes mistaken for a phoenix, romance, fluff, Liyue Archon Quest, Liyue lore, Soft Zhongli, Retired/former Archon Zhongli, married Zhongli/Reader.

Warnings: None.

Main List | 𝐙𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐢 𝐌.𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | AO3

Feeling the familiar stir of your rousing consciousness, you sensed the familiar touch of a hand caressing your head. Gently stroking your locks of hairs before rubbing a thumb against your cheek.

Blinking your eyes open, you’re greeted with the familiar face of your husband staring back at you, warmth and adoration in his gold eyes. The corners of his lips rising a little upwards. He always seems to look at you as if you were the most ethereal thing on this planet after all these years together. But you knew that if he were asked that very question, that was already going to be his answer.

“Good morning, my love.” Morax, now Zhongli, softly greeted, voice calm and deep. He pushed a stray hair strand away from your face.

Usually sleeping shirtless, the real colors of his arms were out in the open. A gradient of pitch black from his shoulders to a light tint of gold from his hands, some black scales peeking out. The gold symbol rune lines trailing over his whole arms gave a faint glimmer amidst the dim darkness of your shared bedroom. Or more like nest, where an abundance of pillows and blankets and a mattress as a base were scattered about that looked more like a makeshift nest than a typical bed.

Although he sticks to wearing gloves and long sleeves, Zhongli still finds it nice to have them off, which revealed his gold markings. Visible proof of his godly identity. You liked to trace them with your own hands, twinkling cosmic irises admiring their details.

“Mm, morning..” you sigh, moving to huddle closer to his body.

Zhongli welcomes your presence automatically. Wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as you’re pressed against his chest. Typically preferring to wear his own dress shirts to sleep, as they were big enough to be nightgowns on you. You commonly wore them when you were able to stay at home with your husband.

Zhongli lets out a deep purr within his chest, a sound that came straight from a beast, but its tone calmer rather than aggressive or of warning. He always adored when you’d wear his shirts, the dragon side of him pleased to have you basked in a mix of both your scents and the statement that you were his. His lover, his wife. His one and only mate.

A purr of your own responded back, soft and gentle. A different contrast to his more deeply masculine one.

Being an adventurer for the Adventurer’s Guild meant always traveling somewhere. Which can also be unpredictable about where you’re going to with commissions. Though it was possible to make a request for more local locations. Even as an adeptus posing as a human, you had to blend in with the habits of a mortal.

Of course, Zhongli welcomely offers his own assistance to accompany you when he was available. Another way to spend time with you.

Your husband hugs you a little tighter as he presses a kiss to your forehead. Brushing through your locks of hair and playing with some of the coloured streaks. “Shall we get ready for the day, little mate? We have time to spend together before I must meet with the Traveler in the afternoon.”

It was an endearing nickname he gave you all those centuries ago, with the size difference between you. Though not by vast amount, it was clear in any form your husband’s height was more than yours.

You hum in response, “I suppose we should..” you snuggle closer, taking in his warmth and his familiar scent that completely relaxes you. “I do prefer when we get ready together.”

Zhongli smiles so softly, “You had been away for quite awhile, and I am always affected by your absence.“

A small giggle escapes you, “I came back in time before the Rite of Descension, Mora. Especially to return your Gnosis.“

For a certain period of time, your husband gave his Gnosis to you for safekeeping. Even though he was fully capable of taking care of it himself, for who else would be able to steal from the Warrior God and eldest of The Seven. Though it wouldn’t be so hard to believe the Fatui could try something, their Archon made a contract with the god of contracts. He handed you the chest piece shaped power object to look after in his stead as another gesture of his unwavering trust in you.

You knew already that he trusted you without hesitation, but it was thoughtful nonetheless. Like how going on dates, giving gifts, and doting on a lover were among a list of acts in a loving relationship. To the both of you, this was just one of them.

“Yes, but you should already know, beloved, that when you must leave my side, I miss you every one of those times.”

Now a tint of pink blooms over your cheeks. Honestly, this man never fails to turn you into a blushing new bride all over again. Just like all those centuries ago when your Zhongli began to court you.

“And what is this old dragon to do without his beautiful fenghuang to complete him as his other half?” he chuckles.

“Maybe miss out on something meaningful.” you playfully teased before replying back “I always miss you when we’re apart, too.” and nuzzled his neck. “There’s no better company in this world than yours.”

Your husband looks on with adoration, giving you a light squeeze. “I can’t agree more, my wife. You have always been my blessing.“

The rosy color on your face didn’t escape Zhongli, who chuckles, a sound melodic and soothing. He had a habit of saying that. It was a common remark to describe you all those years ago by the mortals. Being referred to as such without personal connection left you indifferent towards it mostly. Which then changed when Zhongli courted you, and your relationship developed more intimately.

“Should I help style your hair, darling?” he caresses your locks spreading across your pillow. The little few coloured highlights flowing down visibly.

“You know I enjoy it when you do.” you kiss his jaw.

Walking around Liyue Harbor with arms locked together, you and Zhongli strolled over the lively bustling city, browsing over the stands and products of merchants and customers.

Before, the two of you were having breakfast in your own adeptal abode, taking in the scenery of the simulated sky, the ginkgo trees, and the lush green grass. And considering it was just the two of you alone, away from prying eyes, Zhongli guided you to sit on his lap, taking the one seat with a table of some Liyue dishes.

He had a habit of holding you close in private. Which came with the territory of having a relationship during a dominating war between gods. In all the tragedies and conflicts that passed for such long lifespans for both of you, holding each other was grounding, comforting, and reassuring.

“I wonder if the people will continue to celebrate our anniversary now that we’re gone.” you mused, fiddling with your marriage rings on your finger as your arms are between your husband’s from holding it. Sparkling starry eyes admiring some of the city’s traditional decor displaying the dragon and the fenghuang. The nation’s symbol of harmony.

“Lapis Lux is one of Liyue’s biggest festivals that predates even Lantern Rite. The celebration of the longest lasting love between us and inspiration for the people.” replied Zhongli, resting his bigger hand on top of your smaller one, where your glittering rings were worn. “With such a large influence to known to the other nations of Teyvat as well, such a holiday could never be dismissed.”

“Hm, that’s true.” you lean your head against his arm warmly.

Zhongli gives a chaste kiss to your temple, his own gaze drifting to the dragon and fenghuang symbols. He could tire of seeing them. “How does flying together sound after dinner, my Qingxin? Once I’ve settled my errands for today. We haven’t done that for some time.”

You perk up at that, flying together was always an activity you two loved doing since the beginning of your relationship. And while flying out in the open wasn’t option anymore after stepping down from godhood, you still had room to privately fly in your own sub-space home.

“Yes.” you smile. “I’ve missed those recently. We’ve both been a little busy. Speaking of…” you trail off, curious. “How goes the funeral planning? I’m sure you’ve been having a fun time, darling.”

It was ironically humorous and perhaps morbid to have the deceased be the one to plan their own funeral ceremony after all.

Zhongli’s amber eyes gleam with a hint of amusement and seriousness. “It’s been going smoothly. The Traveler has been a kind aid.”

The brunette had informed you of his own meeting with the Traveler and his floating companion as you talked about your latest visit to Mondstadt. Soon, it would be time to meet the Traveler again at Third-Round Knockout after previously settling things at Bubu Pharmacy.

You both did separate for a time for Zhongli to plan the Rite of Parting as part of his own occupation and duty.

“Well, it couldn’t have been easy for him. The Archon he had planned to meet next ended up dead before him the second he arrived.” you mused.

“Yes, while I do feel it unfortunate for him, the time for our departure from our posts had no better timing than now.” he replied. “After all, how dare the Geo Archon perish and leave his wife a widow? It goes against the very vows of their union. The most sacred of all of Rex Lapis’ contracts is with Regina Lux.”

Zhongli gazes at you with humour evident on his face. A teasing smile on his lips. “The whole of Teyvat may smite my spirit for such grievance.”

You gave a small laugh, “Of course, how could he?”

The performance of making both of your deaths in front of a crowd believable was a… unique experience. It went without saying that when Zhongli decided to retire his Archon role, he couldn’t leave you behind, especially to deal with the aftermath of the people’s attention on you because of it.

The Rite of Descension came with Rex Lapis descending upon his people for his divine predictions, while Regina Lux accompanied him with divine counsel for Liyue’s governing structure and measuring of time, seasons. Both greatly respected by their people for their eye for strategy.

And as your husband said, you both made a vow to be at each other’s sides no matter the unexpected circumstances. As the ultimate contract between you, in a mix of desire and responsibility.

“Hey, look!” Paimon says as she and Aether stopped on one of their walks in Liyue Harbor to meet with Zhongli when they spotted you together. “It’s (Y/N)! We only ran into her once in Liyue. And she’s with… Zhongli? Is Paimon seeing what you’re seeing..?” she blinked in confusion and surprise.

Aether gave a similar expression before calmly thinking aloud, “To be so close to each other like that.. Does that mean the spouses they mentioned to us before was each other all along..?”

“Let’s go ask! Paimon wants to know!” she urged with curiosity.

Hearing a familiar voice call out to you both, you turn to be greeted by the Traveler and his floating travel guide.

“Oh, hello Traveler, Paimon.” you casually greet with an easy smile. “It’s good to see you again.”

You first met the traveling pair at the Adventurers’ Guild back in Mondstadt. Recognized as a famous adventurer across the seven nations, your job naturally consisted of going to different places. The three of you made friendly conversation and good terms.

On your last day in the city, you spoke to the pair in meeting again in Liyue. You did run into them as you said when they came for the Rite of Descension, but hadn’t seen them afterwards until now.

Paimon only made a gawking face as she darted eyes between you and Zhongli. Mind still processing.

“Hi, (Y/N). We were about to meet up with Zhongli at Third-Round Knockout.” the blond reciprocated casually, unlike his pixie guide. Aether eyed the wedding rings on both of your left hands intriguingly. It very much complimented each other. Even the designs of your outfits bore similarities side by side, yet individually different; like your color palettes.

“That’s right, it was about that time.” Zhongli responds, hand on his chin.

“Wait-wait-wait! Hold on a second!” Paimon exclaimed with a wave of her arms. “The two of you are married to each other?!”

Your husband was unfazed as he answered her. “Why, yes. We’ve been married for a very long time now.”

Paimon seemed to finally calm down after the surprising fact. “When you guys were talking about being married, we didn’t think it was between each other!” she scratches her head. “And to think that we already met you both without realizing… Talk about a coincidence..”

You and Zhongli look at each other before lightly chuckling.

“Yes, that’s true.” you agreed. “It wasn’t meant to be a secret or anything. But it is a funny correlation.”

You smiled at them, “I also appreciate you helping my husband for the Rite of Descension. It’s a big task to handle alone, especially now.”

“Oh, we don’t mind.” she shakes her head. “It works out for all of us.” she then mumbles to herself, “Guess we know who does the finance in this marriage...”

“Paimon.” Aether lightly scolds.

Paimon immediately tries to correct her words, apologizing for running her mouth like that.

You only chuckle a little at her, Zhongli wasn’t offended and merely brushes it off, “In any case, since we’ve run into each other, why don’t we head to Third-Round Knockout now?”

You then let go of your husband’s arm, much to both of your reluctance. “That’s my cue then. I should be taking my leave anyhow. I have something to discuss with the Branch Master at the Adventurer’s Guild.”

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to interrupt you.” apologized Aether, sheepish.

“It’s no problem.” you dismiss, unperturbed.

“I will see you in the evening, then, my dear.” Zhongli kisses your hand, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles.

“Mhm, see you.” you hum softly, squeezing his own hand before walking off, the long hem of the back of your Liyuen dress fluttering behind you.

Staring off after you for a moment, the ex-Archon turns his attention to the traveling pair; who tried to adjust to this sudden smitten side of him. “Let’s go then, shall we?”

Standing beside each other hand in hand again, you and Zhongli both watched down at the harbor as Osial, an old foe, rose from the waters, letting out a fierce roar echoing in the skies.

The Jade Chamber flew to the serpent god as adepti and the mortals gathered

together to stop him. Along with the Traveler’s aid.

“Now the real test begins…” you mutter, grasping Zhongli’s hand firmly.

“So it has…” he quietly replies. He then turns to you, “Although I’m confident in Liyue’s own strength, whatever happens from here on out, I’m happy to have experienced this mortal life with you.”

You smile at him lovingly, “For me, too. No matter what, I’m with you to the end.”

Zhongli brings you to his side, wrapping an arm around your back as you both observed the fight unfold.

When Osial was defeated and sealed away once again, proving Liyue’s independent perseverance. You and Zhongli were able to fully let go of your godly lives to mortal ones.

And when Zhongli went alone to Northland Bank to keep his end of the contract with the Tsaritsa for his Gnosis, Aether and Paimon had to adjust to the other surprising fact about your identity once realizing who Zhongli really was.

If Morax was said to truly be devoted to his wife, then there was no conceivable way he’d be with another. There wouldn’t be anyone else more committed to the contract of marriage than the god of contracts himself with the god of light, Alloces.

How, as the two gods fell from the sky to their end, their bodies twisted around each other in an interlocking embrace. Where the Lord of Geo held his beloved protectively even after their vessels were deprived of their divine souls.

You recalled when speaking with Cloud Retainer from a recent visit how Paimon had vocally mistaken you for a phoenix. With your adeptus form being a bigger bird from Cloud Retainer and Mountain Shaper’s, your bird form lightly glowed with the colour of gold and sunlight, end feathers shimmering like gold mist, some of your multicoloured hair streaks as feathers of red, blue, and green.

The female crane adeptus made a huff of disapproval at the mixup, wondering how many others outside Liyue would always make the misconception and ignorance of the spouse of the only married Archon, the only other god to rule Liyue alongside Rex Lapis being a phoenix. It humoured and intrigued you of this myth some people mistakenly believed.

While it was appreciable to see an old friend and attendant be of defence in your honour, there was amusement in seeing Cloud Retainer’s reaction to it.

There was also the small irony that you carried a fake Pyro Vision on you to blend in. You didn’t actually have the same compatibility to it like your husband, the master of his element, but your power and magic abilities could make them appear pyro.

Zhongli had suggested you could try Geo, but you thought it interesting to be of a different element from him.

“One would think after so many years has passed, the mortals would come to understand the keen difference between a phoenix and a fenghuang.” she says with disappointment. “Especially to the being who taught them the teachings and ways of the stars and light, who brought prosperity and counseling of Rex Lapis’s ascension as one of The Seven. Including the perfect example of marital union! Honestly, the ignorance..!”

“It’s all right, Cloud Retainer.” you assured. “They don’t mean harm or malice by it.”

“While that is true, your leniency is what truly comes out most, Regina Lux.” she responds.

“Well, it wasn’t something I had to worry about. And it’s not a common misunderstanding.” you take a sip of the teacup presented to you. “In any case, with the Qixing, Liyue may turn out just fine.”

Cloud Retainer shifts her gaze to the sky, still begrudging. “If it by your words, may your judgment be sound, Regina Lux.”

“You are not from this land.” A deep male voice spoke a few feet away from you.

Calmly turning your head, you look to see a man who was clearly not mortal. You immediately knew who he was, his reputation and appearance easily recognizable. A white hood over his head, gold rune patterns decorating his arms that traced as veins to gold coloured hands, dressed in interesting garments. In your observation, it glowed and symbolized power.

You meet his golden gaze with your starry ones. “No, I am not. Merely here to view the scenery in front of me.”

He tilts his head a little, gold eyes intense as he searches for anything to be wary of, the eyes of a beast. “Is passing through another deity’s territory common for you?”

“By harmless means, I bear no motive but to cross the lands soundly.”

The deity stares at you contemplatively, tone mildly rumbling and brutish. “Hm, you should exercise more caution next time, a god’s reaction is unpredictable with unfamiliar faces of another.”

“Fair enough.” You stand from your seat from the view of the sky and mountains. “Shall I not disturb you any longer, Lord of Geo? I am not ignorant of your strength.”

His eyes turned half-lidded as he took in the likeness of the night in your irises, “You are aware of me as I am of you, Lady of Light. A being untethered of followers, roaming over the lands. But never claiming, your presence doesn’t deter me.”

“Then I may continue watching the landscape from here?”

“I—”

“As I thought, you were here, beloved.” Zhongli’s voice calmly spoke from behind you.

Turning your head, you looked back to see your husband making his way towards with a sweet smile on his lips.

The hand that was playing with the rectangular diamond shaped Cor Lapis gem hung on the bottom front of your elegantly designed chocker now rested on your lap. The Qingxins around you lightly glowing white from its petals under the moon, blooming in full.

“Hehe, you know me so well.” you say in light amusement, looking fondly at him as he comes to sit beside you.

You both occasionally went to a cliff to gaze down at Liyue Harbor, like spectators of an artwork. Watching from afar to the pleasant view of the busy and prosperous city. Sightseeing from far away to look at how far Liyue had come to be what it is. How both of your guidances and co-rulership led to this nation of prosperity.

“Came to join me, did you?” you tilt your head playfully.

“Naturally so,” he wrapped an arm around you to rest on his side, moving the other to grasp the hand on your lap. “I was deprived of your touch.”

You smile, feeling serene and content as you snuggled into him more, head resting under his chin. “Better now?”

Zhongli hums, “Very much so, but don’t think I’ll be letting go now, dearest.”

A small laugh escapes you, “Oh, I know.”

Taking some moments of silence, the both of you watched Liyue. How the city lights glowed in the night sky, the peaceful atmosphere around you, it was everything you had hoped it would all be.

Taking a breath to sigh, you’re mildly surprised to feel the familiar trace of Zhongli’s hand brushing your cheek before you noticed him tucking a Qingxin flower into your hair, breezing pass one of your dangling noctilucous jade earrings.

While Glaze Lilies were known to be a national flower of Liyue, for its appeasement to song and moon, regional from the land, you always had an affinity with Qungxins among the nation’s flora. While Glaze Lilies could be resided in fields where domestic ones were gardened by people, you found interest in Qingxins locating on cliffs and mountain tops. Like they were trying to reach the sky and view the land below.

Though you found numerous flowers across the seven nations to be just as wondrous. As someone who used to travel place to place without your own territory, your journeying spirit never left. After settling down from your marriage with Morax for the past thousands of years, becoming an adventurer as a mortal brought back this old side of you. But nothing beats the domesticity of marriage with your husband and the land you looked after together.

“You are radiant, baobei…” the ex-Archon gently spoke, lightly touching the intricate hairpin attached to your half-up bun. With the design of your fenghuang form on the back of the fabric of your slit skirt, with hints of his dragon-qilin adeptus form as well. It laid the hidden meaning of your identity and claim to your husband. Details intimate and hidden for both of you.

Credit to Menogias’ keen eye and sense of fashion. Who foound a hobby in coordinating your outfits together.

It only made this god of old before you pleased and content at the sight. Including the chocker necklace you always wore. With gold and silver accents and a rhombus shaped Cor Lapis gem dangling. Matching the rhombus pin on his tie and your ring. Hiding the faint traces of an inhuman bite and the Geo symbol imprinted on the back of your neck, along with another on your navel and an actual tattoo of his adeptus form. The dragon side of Zhongli always carrying a possessive and marking trait, but never against your own will. That also included having your fenghuang form tattooed on him underneath all his layers.

The tattoos themselves invisible to the naked eye unless revealed or with great elemental perception.

Gold amber eyes twinkling with warmth and love as he gazed at you, always able to melt and flutter his stone heart. “Throughout all these years together, I couldn’t have asked for anyone else to be by my side all these years.”

You smile adoringly at him as you press your body as close as physically possible against his, “I love you so much you know..”

Your husband strengthens his hold on you as his other hand sweetly rubs the exposed thigh from one of the slits of your dress and away from your thigh high boot.

“I always know, my sweet mate.” Zhongli leans in, brushing his lips against yours. “And I love you, much more than you are already aware.”

You smile very softly content over your husband’s shoulder. He then pulls you onto his lap sideways, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “You are the most precious treasure to me in all of Teyvat.” With both half-lidded eyes, he gazes upon your irises, that move and change like a reflection of the night.

“And I will never stop reminding you that I am yours for eternity, my wife, my love, my treasure. I dedicate my life, soul and heart to you, and only you.” he then pulls you onto his lap, making you wrap your arms around his neck as he pressed his forehead against yours. “Even when, one day, we reach the end of our time, we’ll be together.”

You lean against him as you both look upon the city and the landscapes you’ve watched over for centuries.

“To this mortal life of ours now.”

Zhongli smiles softly, “Yes, to this mortal life we have.”

[satellite-evans]

sea view

Pairing: Harry Styles x wife!reader

Summary: Harry and his pregnant wife spending a day at the beach <3

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: fluff

A/N:

English is not my first language, so I apologize if I made any (grammar) mistakes. Feedback, requests, recommendations, vents or questions are always welcome. I love talking to you guys about anything <3

Happy reading xxx

I do NOT give permission for my work to be translated or reposted on here or any other site.

The golden sun hung lazily on the horizon, stretching its warm fingers across the beach. Each wave that lapped at the shore seemed to echo the steady rhythm of your heart, entwined with his. Harry’s hand slid down to yours, lacing your fingers together as you walked along the edge of the tide, the cool water occasionally licking at your toes. His thumb traced idle patterns against your skin, the gesture almost absentminded but deeply affectionate. The closeness of him made your chest feel full, as if the love you shared could hardly be contained in such a quiet moment.

Harry stopped suddenly, letting out a content sigh and stretching his arms out wide as if to embrace the entire ocean. “Do you ever stop to think about how mad all this is?” he asked, his voice tinged with wonder. He looked back at you, his eyes softening as they landed on your growing bump. “Me, you, this little bean in here.”

His free hand grazed your belly, his fingertips trailing delicately over the fabric of your sundress. The tenderness of the gesture sent a wave of warmth through you, a shiver of excitement and love.

“Mad is one way to describe it,” you replied, a smile curling on your lips. “Miraculous is another.”

“Miraculous,” Harry repeated, the word rolling off his tongue as if savoring it. He stopped walking entirely, tugging your hand gently to pull you closer. The sight of him then—bathed in the amber glow of the setting sun, his features soft with awe—took your breath away.

“I don’t think there’s a single word that could do justice to this,” he said, his voice quieter now. His hand splayed fully over your belly, his fingers flexing slightly as if memorizing the curve of your form. “Or to you.”

You felt your cheeks flush under his gaze, and you ducked your head instinctively, embarrassed by the intensity of his admiration. Harry wasn’t having it, though. His fingers tilted your chin up with a gentle insistence, and his smile—equal parts cheeky and adoring—melted your heart.

“Don’t you dare look away,” he teased, his voice low and playful. “I want to see that glow.”

“Harry, you’re ridiculous,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“Ridiculously in love with my wife,” he corrected, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against yours. “And ridiculously lucky that she agreed to carry my baby, even if I did forget to take the bins out last night.”

“Oh, don’t think I’ve forgotten that,” you quipped, poking him lightly in the chest. “But maybe I’ll forgive you… if you’re good.”

“Define ‘good,’” he murmured, his voice dropping into that lower, teasing tone that always turned your knees to jelly.

Before you could answer, he kissed you. It was slow and deep, like the tide itself had paused just to give you this moment. His lips moved against yours with a kind of reverence that made your heart race, and when he finally pulled back, you were breathless, leaning into him for support.

“Good enough?” he asked, a smirk tugging at his lips.

You laughed, pushing lightly at his chest. “Barely. But you’re getting there.”

By the time you reached the blanket he’d set up on the sand, Harry had already shrugged off his shoes and set down the picnic basket he’d carried. The blanket was oversized and ridiculously plush, covered in cushions that looked far too fancy for a beach day. You arched a brow at him as you lowered yourself carefully onto it.

“This is very… elaborate,” you teased, smoothing a hand over the soft fabric.

“Only the best for my girl,” Harry said, dropping to his knees beside you and immediately pulling a container of strawberries from the basket.

“For the lady,” he said with a theatrical flourish, holding one up to your lips. The grin on his face was pure mischief, but it softened when you took the strawberry, your teeth sinking into the juicy fruit. He watched you like you were performing magic, his gaze warm and unblinking.

“You’re spoiling me,” you said, leaning back against the cushions with a smirk.

“You deserve to be spoiled,” he replied, his voice turning serious. He shifted to lie on his side next to you, propping himself up on one elbow. His free hand found its natural place on your bump, his fingers spreading wide as though he wanted to feel every inch of the connection between you and the baby. “Can I spoil you a little more?”

“What are you up to, Styles?” you asked suspiciously, narrowing your eyes.

“I was thinking,” he said, a mischievous glint sparking in his gaze, “that the sea looks awfully inviting. Fancy a swim?”

You hesitated, glancing out at the gentle waves. “I don’t know. I feel like a beached whale these days.”

Harry let out a laugh, his eyes crinkling in that way that made your heart flutter. “Don’t even joke about that. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And I mean it. Come on, love. Let me hold you in the water. It'll feel good.”

The water was cooler than you’d expected, but not unpleasant. True to his word, Harry’s arms were around you the moment you waded in, holding you close as if you might drift away.

“See? This isn’t so bad, is it?” he murmured, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he spoke. The closeness made your heart flutter, and you wrapped your arms around his neck for balance.

“No, not bad,” you admitted, leaning into him. The sensation of the water buoying your weight was freeing, and you found yourself relaxing completely against his chest.

Harry’s hands roamed gently—one resting against the curve of your lower back, the other slipping under the water to cradle your belly. His thumb rubbed soft circles, and his touch felt reverent, almost worshipful.

“You’re carrying a part of me,” he said, his voice quiet, almost as if he was talking to himself. “Our baby. How do you do it? How are you this strong?”

Your throat tightened at his words, but you managed a small laugh. “I think you’ve got a romanticized view of it. There’s a lot of complaining and ice cream involved.”

“And I’ll listen to every complaint and buy every pint of ice cream for the rest of our lives,” he vowed, pressing a lingering kiss to your shoulder. “You’re everything to me, you know that?”

You nodded, suddenly overcome with emotion. “I love you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the sound of the waves.

Harry kissed you then, his lips capturing yours with a tenderness that made you feel as though the entire world had disappeared.

When you returned to the blanket, the sun was dipping below the horizon, leaving the sky painted in hues of pink and orange. Harry handed you a towel and then promptly decided it was a better idea to dry your legs himself, taking far longer than necessary and sneaking cheeky kisses every time he bent closer.

“You know what I think?” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

“I think our baby is going to be just like you—kind, strong, stubborn as hell,” he teased, earning a light elbow to the ribs. He winced dramatically. “Oi, I’m fragile, you know!”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?” you replied, trying to sound annoyed, though your smile betrayed you.

“Insufferably handsome,” he corrected, puffing his chest out a little. “And insufferably mad about you.”

“Oh, here we go,” you groaned playfully, covering your face with your hands. “Should I prepare myself for another Shakespearean sonnet about my ‘radiant glow’?”

“Not just a glow—your divine luminescence,” he countered with a grin, rolling onto his back and pretending to gaze at the sky. “It rivals the sun, the moon, the stars—”

“Alright, enough!” you said, laughing as you reached for a pillow from the blanket and swung it at him. Harry caught it with a laugh, holding it above his head like a trophy.

“Violence against a man praising his wife!” he exclaimed, shaking his head in mock disapproval. “What will the baby think?”

“They’ll think you’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously in love,” he shot back, leaning over to kiss you despite the pillow still clutched in his hand. “But you wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing softly as you pushed him back onto the blanket. “You’re lucky I love you.”

Harry grinned, tossing the pillow aside and pulling you closer until your head rested on his chest again. “I really am,” he said quietly, the humor giving way to genuine affection in his tone. After a beat, he added, “But if the baby gets my sense of humor, you’re in trouble.”

“Oh, God,” you groaned, shaking your head. “Then I really will be outnumbered.”

Harry let out a loud laugh, the sound blending with the waves as the sky deepened into twilight. The two of you stayed there, bickering playfully and exchanging kisses until the stars began to appear, painting the start of your next chapter in a perfect blend of love and laughter.

[tpwk-formula1]

Biggest Fan Pt 1 - CL16

Requested by @nina-or-anna-or-nora "Heyy!! 💕 I saw you were asking some requests so I have one for an Smau!! (If you want to do it ofc) I was thinking about the reader being kinda like Sabrina or Olivia (a performer) and then Charles being like her biggest fan🤭just a super cute fluffy thing and he goes to every show he can or posts her and stuff🥹"

AN - Had so much fun writing this SMAU for you! Don't be afraid to send in requests that aren't apart of the Pizza Menu! I love Sabrina but I'm not a die hard fan so I have no idea how many outfit changes she has or the order she performs so if it's a little messed up I apologize! Also LMK if you wanna see me do this with more drivers and make it a little series of the drivers being head over heels for their girl friend!

Summary: Just Charles being in love with Y/N... and basically everyone in the F1 community!

Charles insta stories over the fall break

Twitter

Charles instagram

Liked by landonorris, youruser, carlossainz, and 2,090,513 others

charlesleclerc We're ready for you Austin ft. Y/N and all the fan gifted hats that will make an appearance this weekend tagged carlossainz and youruser

user5 I love how he makes a post for work and still finds a way to get Y/N in there

user6 your honor... it's them. It's always them!

youruser I'm ready to be back in my home soil!

user7 I constantly forget our girl is from the US charlesleclerc you mean MY girl user8 Charles will never learn to share charlesleclerc not when it comes to MY Y/N youruser alright calm it down you charlesleclerc yes maam

user9 I hate feeling single but I do love you guys!

carlossainz Will I ever get a post with just us?

user10 Carlos... they're a package deal user11 If I don't expect anything less, you shouldn't either youruser damn... catching strays carlossainz Y/N I thought we were friends!

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Your insta story

user12 how does it feel to be living my dream

carlossainz he's been smiling at his phone for 10 minutes because you posted him

youruser I love knowing he loves me as much as I love him

user13 his eyes

charlesleclerc that's one lucky man

youruser he really is!

user14 I love the way you guys love each other

landonorris you guys disgust me with how cute you are together

youruser you wish this was you huh? landonorris I miss when you were to shy to interact with us... kinda a meanie youruser you'll learn to survive

Twitter

your Instagram

Liked by charlesleclerc, yourbff, oliviarodrigo, and 3,092,172 others

youruser Thanks for the warm welcome home... see you in a few weeks for Vegas!

Look for a surprise tomorrow around noon YeeHaw time!

charlesleclerc Ooooo I wanna know the surprise

user18 I can't believe I have notifications on and Charles is still here before me

charlesleclerc you snooze you lose! gotta be quicker than that! youruser love you need to be a bit nicer! user18 no this is on me... I should know no matter how much I love you Charles just loves you that much more! user19 I'm sobbing at this! Charles is so unhinged when it comes to Y/N

landonorris Can I also know the surprise

charlesleclerc NO!

user20 YeeHaw time is SENDING me! For anyone confused she's talking about CST

user21 THANK YOU! It makes so much sense now that you've explained but as a non F1 Y/N fan I didn't realize she was in Texas haha

user22 I love their height difference. I forget just how SMALL Y/N is.

Your Insta Story

charlesleclerc I can't wait to watch you!!

user23 HOLY SHIT! I can't fucking wait!

user24 omg! I'm so excited for this!!

landonorris: I hope you have a ticket saved with my name on it!

youruser: I do including the rest of the grid... spread the word pleaseeee

user25: Oh to be in the US rn to experience this concert! I just know it's gonna be amazing

Twitter

Charles Insta story during the show

Max's Insta story during the show

Youruser: Max! hahaha you had me cracking up in the first slide... then tearing up through laughter in the second. Thank you so much for finding time in your title fight to support!

maxverstappen1: I wouldn't have missed it! Had to see what all the hype was about. Please invite me again

Grid Members Stories (Lando, Carlos, Oscar, Yuki, Liam, Franco)